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Bridget looked herself over one last time, pushing her lips out, kissing towards her reflection in order to touch up her cherry lipstick in the bathroom mirror of her tiny apartment. Her wonderfully tight black dress slid fluidly along her captivating curves, beautifully complimenting her soft, smooth, lightly bronzed skin. Her client tonight was a regular. He was quick, always tipped well, and frankly, the thrill of pleasuring a congressman never lost it’s luster.
The 23-year-old leaned forward and smiled into her chocolate brown irises, checking her eyeliner before slightly tugging at her dress, exposing enough of the valley her C-Cups created to entice, but little enough that it still tortured any observers.
“Amanda, I’ll be back a little later tonight, okay?” Bridget, trying to sound casual, called out to her roommate who sat watching T.V. from the living room couch. Bridget heard no response, and grabbed her four-inch black stilettos from the entryway floor. She leaned against the wall for support, slipping on the shoes that she knew would show off her toned legs, as well as raise her average height to a respectable 5’10”. Bridget looked expectantly over at the back of her Amanda’s head. The two girls, that only a year and a half earlier had got along like devoted sisters, had talked little since Bridget had been forced to drop out of school. She’d been unable to pay her tuition after a knee injury early in her junior year had cut her track career short, robbing her of a much-needed scholarship. With no close family to turn to for help, but determined to get back into school, Bridget started up with what she saw as her only legitimate option. Amanda very clearly didn’t approve of how Bridget was earning the money finish her degree, but each girl’s stubborn nature prevented either from moving out of the apartment.
Bridget swallowed the flash of anger that her roommate’s apathetic silence had sparked. Snatching her clutch from the hallway table, Bridget strode out of their apartment, snapping the door crisply behind her. Accompanied by the clicking of her heels against the cement sidewalk, Bridget made her way to the dinged-up, red Honda accord that she shared her age with. She slid in onto the grey cloth of the driver’s seat, being careful to lean forward, and bringing her hands to the back of her neck, brushing her long, straight, silken locks of auburn hair forward, draping them over her shoulders, to keep them from being crushed between her dress the seat. Her car sputtered to life and Bridget began the short drive from the Georgetown campus, to the Capitol Hill neighborhood of D.C.
Bridget pulled up in front of the tall, thin, red-bricked townhouse that her client, Iowa State Representative John Grittner, had lived in with his wife for the past five election cycles. Giving herself one last look in the small mirror of the car’s sun shade, Bridget ran a careful hand through her soft and silken hair. Giving a playful kiss towards her reflection, then slipping her keys into her handbag, Bridget stepped out of her car and began walking up the familiar, unlit steps to the dark varnished wood of the front door, ringing the bell.
The door opened almost immediately. Apart from his jacket and tie, John was still in the clothes he’d worn to work; a blue, button-down dress shirt, and a pair of black pants. His face was slightly flushed, betraying the fact that he’d been drinking in anticipation of her arrival. Bridget flashed him her white smile and gave a slight tilt to her head that she knew he found impossibly cute.
“Congressman…” the young girl in the doorway greeted with teasing smirk.
“Hey there, beautiful girl…” John answered, looking Bridget up and down slowly, a knowing grin on his face, holding the door open wider to welcome his date inside.
Bridget stepped into the hallway, giving John a playful smile, then looking around at the walls, feeling John’s hand slip around to her lower back, pulling her further into the house, and closing the door behind them. Bridget’s eyes returned, boring into to John’s as they walked slowly into the living room. It was a look she’d mastered over the last year; seductive and sweet, with a mischievous grin tugging at the corners of her mouth. Its sole purpose was to convince whoever the man was who’d asked her over, the he was the only person in the world she’d ever wanted. Sometimes Bridget would get so caught up in her persuasion, she’d almost convince herself of it.
The pair stood in front of the leather couch of John’s living room. Bridget let a soft sigh escape her mouth, biting her lip, feigning her lust, as she faced John, pressing forward, and letting her right hand slide up his chest. Bridget stepped out of her heels, and was suddenly tiny in front of Johns 6’1″ frame, neck arched, looking directly up at the older man.
John smiled arrogantly at the young girl, sliding both of his hands around her waist, gripping one of his wrists behind her, resting low on her back, growing certain of this call girl’s desperation kartal escort bayan for him.
“Where’s your wife tonight?” Bridget asked in a soft, mischievous tone, slowly moving higher by getting on her tippy toes, causing John to unconsciously begin to bend his head down to her.
“Some fund raiser,” he answered in a sarcastically sorrowful tone, one hand slipping down to the smooth, firm ass of his guest, “but we probably don’t have more than an hour…”
Bridget gave the Congressman her most childish frown, sticking out her bottom lip in a pout, but letting a smile quickly grow to replace it. “We’d better hurry then, huh?” Bridget said quietly, leaning in and pressing her soft lips against John’s for the first time that night. At first gently, letting him enjoy the feel of the small girls’ mouth against his. After a few seconds she began pressing harder, seemingly giving in to her hunger for the married man, slipping her tongue into his mouth, cementing John’s delusion of the young girl’s desire for him.
Bridget broke the kiss and put her lips next to John’s ear. “Mmm, you taste good, Mr. Congressman. How about a glass of whatever that taste is,” she whispered playfully.
John smiled at her, and guiding her down onto the couch before walking over to the bar against the wall and pouring each of them a generous glass out of one of the crystal decanters containing a light, golden-brown liquid. John turned back smiling once again and walked over, sitting next to his young guest on the soft leather of his couch, handing Bridget one of the circular cut glass tumblers
“Mmm, God that’s so yummy” Bridget cooed licking her lips after her first sip.
John slipped one arm around her and his other he put on her thigh. “I got this scotch as a gift,” he said in a smug voice, sliding his hand up Bridget’s leg slowly. “From a very important man… I don’t bring it out for just anybody,” he finished with a wink.
Bridget acted impressed like she knew he wanted. “Oh wow” she giggled, “Spending the good stuff on me, huh?”
John leaned forward, “Only the best for the most beautiful girl in the world…” he gave Bridget a clumsy kiss, sliding his hand further up her leg.
Bridget pressed back against him, setting her glass down on the coffee table and letting her hands roam John’s imperfect body, feeling his hands grope her in hunger.
“Mm, John…” Bridget moaned as John’s fingers found her mound through her dress. “That’s so good, baby,”.
John’s lips moved to Bridget’s neck, before he licked up to her ear and whispered arrogantly “Get on your knees, sweetheart…”
Bridget gave him her best naughty smile as she slid off the couch down to her knees in front of her client. “Is this what you want, Mr. Congressman?” She asked sweetly, sliding her hands up John’s legs, rubbing his stiff cock through his pants.
John let out a groan, partly from the mention of his impressive title, and partly from the placement of the young girl’s hands.
“That’s it, baby…” he answered, talking down to the girl on her knees. “Get that fat cock out. You know you wanna taste it,” he said teasingly.
Bridget, keeping her warm brown eyes fixed on John’s hungry blue ones, leaned forward and kissed the bulge in his pants, blowing warm air through the fabric, as she unbuttoned and unzipped him.
John let out another groan and tilted his head back before looking back down at the young girl in front of him, running a hand through her hair. “Fuck… You’re so hot,” he said under his breath.
“Yeah, daddy?” Bridget asked smiling, looking up at her client. She wrapped her fingers around the waist band of John’s pants and boxers, lightly scratching his hips with her nails.
“Mmm fuck yes. My sexy little slut,” John teased, possessively giving her neck a light squeeze.
Bridget bit her lip and tugged off the clothes concealing John’s hard cock. His six inches sprang up and bobbed in front of her face, oozing a small amount of precum. Bridget licked her lips looking down at it.
After a second, the 23-year-old leaned forward, lifting the older man’s shaft and taking his balls into her mouth, sucking gently. After a minute, she let them slip out. Still holding up John’s cock, Bridget slide her tongue out of her mouth, dragging it slowly from the base of the married man’s cock to its tip, staring up into John’s greedy eyes.
John let out a low groan of torment then whispered, leaning back, eyes closed, “Holy shit…”
Bridget wrapped her ruby lips around John’s cock, took its head into her warm mouth, swirling her practiced tongue around the tip, drawing a gasp, then another moan from the older man.
“That’s it, little girl,” he breathed. “Worship that thick married cock.”
Bridget slid her lips a little further down the Congressman’s prick, humming lightly, causing her mouth to vibrate, making John dig his fingers into the couch, moaning even louder.
Bridget drew her head back, then bobbed it forward, going further escort maltepe down the shaft, sliding her tongue up and down the underside of the older man’s cock.
The call girl found a rhythm, bobbing her head further and further down each time, letting the cock slide down her experienced throat, her face pressing into John’s belly.
John’s pleasure reached a new peak as he looked down at the young working girl who had his cock in her mouth, big brown eyes staring up at him.
“God yes, you talented little whore,” he berated her. “Fuck you’re so good… You know you fucking love that powerful cock, don’t you, bitch?”
Bridget hummed her agreement, feeling one of the older man’s hands slip through her hair, making a pony tail handle at the back of her head.
John used his grip to push the young girls face further down, pressing her into his stomach, then yanking her back roughly, forcing Bridget to increase her pace.
“You like when I fuck you face, don’t you, slut?” He teased down at the girl staring up at him, moaning her agreement again.
Bridget felt Johns cock start to twitch, and playing with his balls, she felt them start to tighten. A tear of effort leaked out of her eye as she looked up at the ravenous face of the married man she was pleasuring.
John forced the young girl all the way down on his cock, and Bridget felt the first rope of cum shoot out and hit the back of her throat.
She started swallowing as fast as she could, determined to suck down every drop as John cried out in ecstasy, releasing her hair.
His face twisted in pleasure, John kept groaning, “Oh my God… Holy shit yes… Take all of it, baby… Suck my cock dry… That’s so fucking good…”
Bridget kept sucking until every ounce of ecstasy had been milked. When she was finished, she leaned back smiling with sincere price, letting the still hard cock fall out of her mouth, John continuing to whimper and moan in front of her. Bridget smiled, pleased with herself and wiped her lips clean. Then sat back down on the couch, her hand resting on John’s bare thigh, stoking it lightly with her nails.
John looked over at her gratefully, running a hand through her hair. “You’ve got a gift from God, baby. That was the best you’ve ever given me, I swear”
Bridget giggled. “You say that every time,” she teased in a soft voice, kissing him sweetly on the neck and cheek.
John put his hand on Bridget’s leg and gave her an apologetic smile. “Martha’s… You know… gonna be home soon…”
Bridget gave him an understanding grin and said quickly “I totally get it… I’ll head out”
John looked at her gratefully again, “Thank you so much… I wish you could stay… Fuck that was incredible! Uhh, the envelope is on the kitchen table. There’s a little extra in there for you,” he finished slightly awkwardly.
Bridget gave him another on the cheek and stood up, walking to the kitchen and picking up the white envelope containing the colored paper that would go towards her rent and future tuition.
John walked her to the door and Bridget gave him one last deep kiss before walking out of the door, saying playfully, “Text me soon, okay?”
She walked down to her car parked on the curb, unlocked the door and sat down, opening the envelope to see her usually ten, hundred-dollar bills, plus an extra three hundred alongside them.
Bridget smiled to herself, putting the envelope down on the seat next to her. She tilted her head to find the hole for her key.
She raised her hand to start her car, but before she could, a leather glove came from behind her and pressed into her forehead, slamming her back against her head rest. Another hand came to her lips, pressing an odd smelling handkerchief over her mouth and nose. Bridget let out a muffled shriek. It only lasted for a second, before she fell unconscious.
Bridget woke up in a daze. She looked at the blurry world around her, and saw she was in a small apartment, sitting on an old couch. She suddenly remembered the event in her car and felt a bolt of terror go through her. She looked for an exit, then noticed for the first time, she wasn’t alone in the room. There was a doorway in the corner, but in front of it was a young man in a black suit and tie. Six and a half feet tall, with sandy blonde hair, and powerful muscles clear, even though his jacket, but a round, stoic, slight baby face that ran counter to the rest of his intimidating demeanor.
“Look who’s up!” A voice came from the other side of the room.
A man walked out of what seemed to be the kitchen, and gave her a smile that seemed both inauthentic, and sharkish. He was average height, average build, black haired, and had a face that was simultaneously familiar and forgettable. He was wearing a blue polo shirt and khakis, and was two bites of the way into a large red apple.
“Bridget! Pleasure to finally meet you!” He said in a smooth voice, taking another bite of his apple.
“What?” Bridget said slowly, pendik escort trying to find her voice through her foggy mind. “What the Hell is going on?” She said slightly louder. “Where the Hell am I?” She yelled causing the man in the polo to take a step back in mocking surprise.
“Easy now” he laughed, his mouth still full “We don’t want Virgil over there to get nervous,” he said gesturing with his apple to the man in the corner, who remained motionless. “No one’s going to hurt you, we just need to talk. My name is Moby.”
Bridget felt her breathing pick up as her head started to clear “I was… I was in my car… You fucking kidnapped me! What the hell is going on?” She started to tear up “I know some really powerful people,” she said in a shaky voice. “You better let me go. You have no idea what might happen.”
The man who called himself Moby gave Bridget an amused smile, and sat down in a chair across from her.
“Listen, Bridget… Can I call you Bridget? I know exactly who you know, and I know exactly what might happen,” he said quickly and confidently. “Nothing. Nothing is going to happen. Those people you know… and by the way, very impressive client list… but those people you know, even if they felt inclined to do something, they don’t have to power to get you so much as a glass of water.” Moby reached into his pocket and pulled out what looked like a thin wallet, letting it fall open to reveal an ID labeled, ‘Central Intelligence Agency.’
Bridget’s fear lessened at learning these men weren’t criminals, then came back in force when she thought about going to prison. “Why am I here?” She finally said, voice shaking.
“Great question,” Moby answered with his phony smile. “You don’t whore yourself out to over a dozen politicians, judges, and wealthy businessmen without landing on someone’s radar. Frankly, I’m surprised. Based on your academic record, I didn’t expect you to be so fucking stupid,” he said with a laugh.
Bridget’s jaw clenched in anger, but she remained silent.
“You’re here, sweetheart, because I talked my boss into making you an offer. Christ, the scandal we would have had if we’d just arrested you and all of your powerful patrons?” He leaned forward toward the frightened young girl on the couch “I would have been a hero to my friends at The Agency, not to mention, the press.”
Out of instinct Bridget leaned away with discomfort. “I don’t understand…” she managed to say.
“You’re here, Bridget, because despite the temptation of busting you as a whore, I managed to see an even bigger opportunity,” he grinned at her gleefully.
Bridget’s fear began to grow “So… I’m here… for you?” She asked slowly, disgusted at the idea of letting this worm touch her.
Moby laughed again, “Jesus,” he looked over at the man in the corner, “how much of that shit did you hit her with?” He looked back at Bridget. “You not here to fuck me, honey. You’re here because I need someone like you.” His look grew serious. “Ten jobs. You do ten jobs for me. I pay you five times your rate, plus another $50,000 when you’ve finished.”
Bridget’s mouth opened slightly at the mention of the money. Visions of getting back into school ran through her mind. “Ten jobs… what kind of jobs?”
Moby smiled again. “The kind you can never mention to anybody. Seductions, setups, intelligence gathering… We’ll put your talents to good use,” he finished giving a patronizing glance down to the low cut of Bridget’s dress.
Bridget had no idea what to think. She answered, “Like… A spy? Will it be dangerous?”
Moby laughed again, “Sure… A spy, if you want to call it that, and it could be dangerous at times, but it’s either this,” he reached behind him and brought out a pair of handcuffs. “Or you can go to jail. Hookers do six months, but I might get the urge to be a little creative when we’re charging you.” Moby looked over at Virgil and said casually, “Did you know bribing a congressman earns you fifteen years in prison?” Not waiting for a response that he knew wouldn’t come, Moby turned, smiling, back to Bridget, content to let her think on her choices.
Bridget sat there, mouth open in shock, feeling like she was in a dream. Collecting herself she looked around the room again, before finally meeting the gleeful eyes of her blackmailer. “Okay…” she heard herself say. “I’ll do it.”
Moby’s smile got even bigger and the gleam behind his dark eyes made Bridget hate him even more. “That’s what I thought” he said confidently. “We’ll be in touch, Bridget. Virgil will take you down to your car.” He stood up and smiled down at her. “Don’t let me down, sweetheart. I’ll see you soon.”
He walked back into the kitchen and Virgil unlocked the door and held it open, clearly waiting for Bridget to follow.
Bridget stood up slowly and walked out of the apartment, down the steps, following the large man in front of her, too shocked to speak.
Virgil led her outside where her old car sat in the parking lot. The giant handed Bridget the keys, not meeting her eye, and said in a low but not unkind voice, “395 is about 10 minutes down the road.” He pointed in the direction of the highway. “You should know your way home from there.” He left her standing there and walked back inside the apartment building.
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