Ashley
“Oh, baby,” the guy groans, “you’re so fucking sexy.”
I bend at the waist and make sure he has a perfect view of my ass in my black lace lingerie, rolling my eyes as I do so. This guy may think I’m hot, but he's so fucking not.
He smacks my ass, making me jump, and I decide right then and there that there’s no way I’m sleeping with him. Not that I mind having my ass slapped. But this guy is so not doing it for me.
I turn around and straddle him, schooling my expression into one of desperate lust as I rub my pussy against the cock tenting his over-priced designer suit pants.
“I’m gonna fuck you so good. Better than you’ve ever been fucked before,” he says, panting as he swipes a hand across his sweaty brow.
Um. No.
It takes everything I have not to wrinkle my nose in disgust. I highly doubt he could even get me off, much less give me the best fuck of my life. I mean, the guy’s packing a decent size cock from what I can tell, but he’s sweating like a damn pig, his bald head shining in the light I have on above us in the hotel room.
Instead, I bite my lip and lean in, shoving my tits in his face as I grip the sides of his head and force him to look up at me. “Tell me how,” I say in a low, breathy voice that makes his cock twitch.
“How?” he asks, confused.
Jesus Christ. “Yes,” I breathe. “Talk dirty to me.”
Maybe I can get him so worked up that I can make him cum without having to actually do much. We don’t need much out of this one.
I grip the little bit of hair at the back of his head and bring my mouth inches from his, steeling myself for what I have to do.
It’s all part of the job, Ashley, I remind myself. The clients aren’t usually this repulsive, though.
Grinding my hips on his cock, I lean in and bite his lip, tugging gently, angling my head to make sure everything we’re doing is visible through the floor-to-ceiling glass that lines the wall of the hotel room, looking out on Manhattan. If I’m going to get out of here without actually fucking the guy, I need to make sure to set up some good shots.
“Touch me,” I whisper, hoping he can’t tell how totally not turned on I actually am.
His meaty hands come up to cup my tits, squeezing clumsily, and I tilt my head back and let out a very fake but well-practiced moan.
He pants even harder, his breath coming so fast that I start worrying he might go into cardiac arrest. A strangled grunt comes out of his mouth, and I know he’s close.
God, it’s almost too easy.
I’m pretty sure it won’t take much more. Reaching down, I slide my hand into my panties and start rubbing my clit, closing my eyes and imagining I’m here with someone else. I resort to my favorite fantasy. Hey, a girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do to get the job done. And I’m a professional. The best in the business, in fact.
Which is why in spite of this completely unsexy man with his face in between my tits, I’m still able to get wet.
Pulling my fingers out, coated with my juices, I lift them to his mouth and tease his lips. He opens up and I slide my finger inside, letting him taste me.
“Fuck,” he groans. “You taste so damn good.”
“I want your mouth on my pussy,” I purr. I so fucking don’t. But the senator who I’m currently seducing has no clue.
With a growl, he yanks down my bra and clamps his mouth around my nipple. That’s my cue. I angle my body to make sure we’re nice and visible, then take his hand and make him cup my pussy, letting out a cry that sounds needy and desperate.
Yeah, I desperately need to get this guy off so I can get out.
And that’s all it takes. He convulses and cries out, and I smile in satisfaction. I just made this guy jizz in his pants. His hand on my pussy, his mouth on my tit—the perfect money shot.
They don’t pay me the big bucks for nothing.
I fake a little orgasm of my own so that he feels like he did his job. The last thing I want is for him to try to keep going and return the favor.
Then I climb off his lap and give him a wink as I bite my lip. He barely even notices. I needn’t have worried about him wanting to make sure I’m taken care of. He got what he came for.
But so did I.
Grabbing my clothes, I make a quick trip to the bathroom and dress quickly, glad this job is done.
Sometimes I wonder what the fuck I do this for. But then I remember the fat stacks of cash I rake in from the richest companies and executives in the world.
No, I’m not a hooker. I’m not a stripper. I’m a professional seductress. I’m paid by some of the top dogs of the top industries to bend politicians and executives to my will. To make them do the dirty things that'll turn wife and country against them.
All so they can be blackmailed.
Don’t get me wrong. I’m not some evil black-widow type man-hater. But there are some evil dudes in this world. Many of them in politics and business. They’ve got some rotten agendas. Basically I’m just doing my part to make the world a better place by taking out the douchebags of the world.
Like this senator.
The asshole was almost too easy to manipulate. I know we got some good pictures on this one. Good thing, too. Now the people who hired me can be sure to get their legislation passed. See, this southern senator is one of the key votes that could affect a new bill coming up. He wants to ban teddy bears made in China from being sold in America. The company that makes the bears hired me, and now they have the pictures they need to blackmail this guy into voting their way.
What? You thought the American political system was on the up and up? Nope. These guys can be swayed to do what the big companies want them to do. And I use my body to make it happen.
I only take jobs I believe in, though. It’s my way of helping out the country. You’re welcome.
I’ve actually built it into a thriving business. It started out just me, but I now have a team of women working for me to bring down the assholes of the world.
Fluffing my hair up, I give myself one last glance in the mirror and leave the hotel room without a second glance at the good senator.
Just as I make my way onto the sidewalk outside the hotel, my phone rings. I stop and dig through my purse to find it, my eye on a limo that comes to a stop in front of me.
My assistant’s face is smiling at me from the screen, and I swipe the glass to answer. Does she have another job lined up for me already? “Hey, what’s up?”
“I have an important client that wants to talk to you.” Her normally chipper voice sounds a little subdued, like she’s in shock or something. Hmm, must be an interesting job.
“Okay, when?”
“I was just told to pass along a message. Get into the limo.”