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Slowly I pulledand moved the gleaming beads into their natural pattern, until I finallywas aware of what I had. I'd seen this item before in the movies, butnever one this fine or delicate in its beauty...in person. Thecraftsmanship was exquisite, it was an intricate beaded breastplate witha light pattern in the middle, that I was having trouble making out.I instantly knew that this would have had to be Indian beadwork, probablyadorning someone very important long, long ago. The design that wasworked into the larger breastplate, was delicate and beautifully crafted.It looked as if the creator had intended this for a child or possibly ayoung teenager.I picked up the small vial and gently shook its contents, I coulddistinctly hear some type of liquid sloshing or perfume that I possessedin my hand.I carefully folded it back up and placed it into this ancient Indianjewelry box, carrying it back around to the cab of my truck where I satit down on the seat. With only a backwards glance, I. He was jerking on it, trying fruitlessly to get the hook to come free; hoping to regain some modicum of dignity."Leave it, Trevor! And sit down."He looked up at her. He was still bent over but no longer working to free the belt. It was hard to tell what he was thinking. The glow of the desk lamp was behind him and the desk's shadow was obscuring his expression, although Sophie was quite sure his face had turned a bright shade of red. And she doubted it was from being bent over."Ok" he said, in an almost inaudible whisper. He sat on the edge of the chair and used the bottom of his shirt to cover his jewels but Sophie was not having it. She grabbed the bottom of his shirt and swept it back."What?" she asked him. "You can jack off in my office but you can't show me your cock?"Sophie knew this was probably excruciating for him. He would know soon enough that she wasn't upset with him. In fact, seeing him sitting in her chair like that—pants around his ankles, tie loosened and hanging.
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