Dave sits at his desk, mountains of work piled up around him. There are files on his desk, files in stacks on the floor and more files stacked up on the chairs reserved for his clients. He looks up from his work and surveys the insurmountable pile of work around him.

The window behind him is dark. It's well past sundown and he knows he won't be going home for hours. So is the life he has chosen. He grabs his pen and points his weary eyes down to the papers in front of him.

Just as he's settling back into his work the phone rings. He reaches out blindly, grabbing the phone. 

"Hello, this is David," he says into the receiver.

"Hi honey... Yes...I...uh...no...honey, look, this is how it is. I know. No, I...Honey..." he can't get a word in. "Look, this is my job, it's what I do. It's how I pay for the lives we lead. It's how the kids go to camp and we go on vacation and it hasn't changed in the fifteen years we've been together so please, just leave it alone." He listens to his wife's rambling speech and looks around the room.

"It's worse than ever. The work came in later than usual and I don't see how I'll ever get it all finished." He knows this to be untrue. He always gets it done. Always on time, and always providing the best services for his clients.

"I..no..stress? Me? Nah. I'm fine, I swear," he tells his wife. He listens to her pontificate further.

"Yes, I know what the doctor said. I know I need to keep my stress levels down. Yes, I have them," he tells her. He looks to his left. In front of the phone is a blue stress ball, meant to be squeezed when the holder needs stress relief. Next to the ball is a stress button. You hit it and it lights up. Again, a cheap, silly means of relieving stress. 

"Yes, I have the stress toys you bought me. I'll use them, I promise," he tells her. "Okay, honey, I need to get back to my work. I love you," he says and hangs up.

Dave grabs his pen and begins working again. His hair hangs over his face as he reviews the paperwork spread out on his desk. He's clearly agitated. He puts the pen down.

"Stress? I'll tell you what gives me stress. It's the phone calls when I'm trying to work. It's the nagging and the bills that seem to grow without my help. You want me to use the stress toys? Fine. I'll use them," he says as he picks up the stress ball. 

He squeezes the round ball, lifting and giving it a shake as he does.

Extending from the bottom of the ball is a thin chain. The chain leads down to across Dave's desk, across the floor, and to the couch on the opposite end of his office. 

Lying on the couch is a woman. She's wearing a blue skirt, heels, and a crisp white shirt, the top four buttons are undone. The chain runs up along her body and as Dave pulls and squeezes and shakes the ball, the chain pulls on the two screws that are clamped tightly around the woman's nipples.

The woman rises from the couch. She's 5'10" and has long red hair and green eyes. Her C-cup breasts are exposed. She smiles at Dave as he pulls on the ball. She strides across the room and stands behind Dave. Her hands rest on his shoulders. She begins massaging the tension in his muscles. A sigh whistles from his lips as she slowly wheels him backward.

The woman steps around Dave and kneels beneath his desk. Dave shuffles his feet, pulling himself closer to the desk. The woman runs her hand along the front of Dave's pants. She traces the outline of his manhood with a pointed nail. She slowly unzips his pants and slides a manicured hand inside the zipper. Long, slender fingers wrap around his semi-hard cock. She takes it out of his pants, his cock pointing at her face as it quickly grows to its full size.

Her hand slides slowly up and down along his shaft. Red lips part as her tongue snakes out, slowly licking the rim of his head. She runs her tongue under his shaft, licking a line along the now throbbing vein that pulses along his cock.

She presses the head of his cock against her lips, sucking gently as her tongue moves around the tip. Slowly sliding her face down on him, slowly taking him into her mouth. Dave leans back, closes his eyes, and feels the stress begin to wane.

Her red hair sways as she bobs her head up and down along his throbbing cock. Her free hand cups his balls, gently massaging them as she sucks him deeper into her throat. Dave's right hand slides to the chain that runs between her nipple clamps. He casually fingers the chain, feeling the cold metal on his skin. He feels his cock starting to swell, he is nearing release. He gives the chain a jerk and a muffled gasp vibrates his cock. She tightens her grip on his balls and starts moving her mouth faster over his cock.

He straightens his legs and closes them around her, his knees against her shoulders, squeezing her as his cock twitches and jumps. 

With each spasm of release, he feels the stress fade further. As he finishes, and his cock slowly begins to soften in her mouth he realizes he has been pulling the chain. He releases it and, when he does, she releases her oral grip on his now flaccid cock. She tucks his cock back into his pants and zips him up.

The woman rises, she towers over him as he sits, slumped in his chair. She lifts the chain over the desk and strides back to the couch.

She lies down and folds her arms across her chest.

"Jane?' he says aloud.

"Yes, Sir?" the woman responds.

"Tomorrow, send flowers to my wife with a note thanking her for the stress toys."

Dave looks to his left, sees the ball and the button. A set of wires extend out of the button to a small black box with an antenna. Dave's hand hovers over the button. His finger traces a circle around the edge of it. He goes to press it and stops.

"Make it a large bouquet, Jane, she deserves it."