The kind of site you can really sink your teeth into.

The night was hot and muggy, as was a common occurrence during the summer in the oceanside resort town of Van Harbor, Florida. Small enough to not have the crime and gang troubles of larger cities yet populace enough to allow one Blaine Colton to ply her trade without drawing too much attention to herself. Dressed to the nines in a form-fitting and rather skimpy white tube dress, matching sandals with three inch heels, and a shade of lipstick over her full sumptuous lips that would make any man throb with desire, she approached the main entrance to the Van Ritz hotel and headed directly toward the lounge.

Every head in the place turned her way as she entered, but she only had eyes for one in particular. With a slight toss of her thick mane of red curls she quickly scanned the room as she headed towards an open stool at the bar. She spotted him before she sat down, then slid lithely onto the it and placed an order for a very dry martini. Within a few minutes no less than four men hit on her, all failing miserably. She only had eyes for him... mister dark sports jacket over light polo shirt standing near the far end of the bar talking to a couple of other fellows. As luck would have it they were already looking her way. A few looks from her and a few moments later one of them started his approach.

He was a tall fellow, a little thick around the middle for her tastes but as it happened he wasn't the one she was after. He came up along side her and put his empty beer bottle on the bar, signaled the bartender for another one, then with a sidelong turn of his head her way he started to speak. She cut him off before he got a word out and asked him “So, who's your friend over there?” and gave a slight nod that led with her chin. He looked back at the other two he was with and asked “Which one?”, the disappointment telling in his tone.

“The one with the darker hair, the shorter one.”

“Oh. That's Jim, why?” His tone said a lot about what he really thought of “Jim”, and in fact screamed of what would you ever see in a guy like that when you could have me?.... he like most men was an easy read for her.

“Thanks” she said without so much as a glance his way as she slipped past him and headed towards her prey.

As she approached, Jim and the other guy stopped talking and looked her way, and simultaneously gulped at their drinks while staring. She took note of their eyes darting from her rather ample cleavage to her eyes and thought This is going to be too easy. It was in fact almost always easy. That was the problem, for her at least... because she actually wanted the guy to turn out to be decent, and the type who would do the right thing. Rarely was that the case. She mused that she'd have better odds betting against the house at an illegal underground casino. She walked straight up to the guy Jim was standing with and said boldly “Would you be a dear and bring Jim and I another round?” The fellow's jaw dropped slightly, after which he stammered the barely coherent words “Uh...y...uh yeah, sure, I'll....” She turned to Jim before he could finish.

“So Jim, what's your story? Do you... come here often?” she said with an ever so slight curve of a smile at the corners of her mouth and a twinkle of her eye. With great effort he kept his eyes off her incredibly shapely chest and instead took in the deep intensity of her strikingly green eyes and said with a grin “Am I on one of those ambush shows or something?” He looked around, as if looking for a hidden camera.

“No Jim, this isn't TV.”

“So, how do you know my name?”
“Your horny friend over there gave it to me.” She nodded back towards Jim's other companion at the bar. “He also told me you were a nice guy Jim. I like nice guys.”

“No woman that looks like you likes nice guys like me.”

“Jim, try to follow along here. I noticed you when I came in. I saw you looking my way more than once while I sat at the bar. You had to have seen those other guys hitting on me. A few of them are in fifteen hundred dollar suits, yet who is it that's talking to me right now?”

“Me.”

“Exactly. And what does that tell you about the kind of nice guy I'm interested in Jim?”

“Point taken. So, um.... now what?”

“Well, we can waste time down here with the riffraff, getting plastered and spending a lot of time pretending to get to know each other, or... we can go somewhere more private and cut to the chase.”

“Just like that?”

“Just like that Jim. I'm a woman that doesn't waste time, I see what I want and I take it. And Jim... I rarely see what I want.” And with that she slipped her hand inside his jacket and caressed one of his nipples through his shirt with her thumb. He felt an immediate tightening in his trousers, the nearness of her incredible body and her touch fueling his lust.

Jim was basically just a regular working stiff in a sea of average Joe's. A good provider for his family, responsible for the most part with his money, and up until this point had been 100% faithful to his wife of seventeen years. Well, close to it anyway. In recent times he'd gotten himself deeper and deeper into the habit of meeting the guys after work for a few, which eventually turned into whole evenings. On more than one occasion he had been tempted when looking at some of the women in the bars his circle of friends frequented. But since none had until now ever looked his way, he had remained faithful... just not necessarily by choice.

Although he loved his wife as much as he ever did, at no time in his life had he ever had a shot with a woman as gorgeous as Blaine. What's the harm he thought, and his booze-fueled libido and the resulting stroke of his ego rendered him incapable of passing up the chance. Yet still he hesitated, and finally made the supreme effort of taking her hand in his (and off his chest) and saying “Um, let's just keep it at another drink for now, okay... miss...?”

Blaine smiled a little sexier if that was possible, then coyly replied “Sandra. My name is Sandra Wescott. You're not going soft on me now, are you Jim?” But before he could reply she said “It's no problem, we can have another drink.” and with that Jim motioned to his friend to bring over the drinks.

They took their place upon a couple of stools at the bar and proceeded to chat and laugh for the next hour. Later on they barely noticed as his two work pals said their goodbye's and left. Their good time carried on until Blaine finally decided to put the knife to the throat of this fish once and for all. After yet another cute anecdote from Jim she ever so elegantly tossed back the last of her 3^rd martini, took her clutch purse in hand, swiveled his way and said “Well Jim, it's been a slice. I'm going to walk out that door now, so if there's anything else you want to say to me, now is your chance.”

Jim looked thoughtful for a moment, then lamely uttered “Will I ever see you again?”

“Honestly, I doubt it. If you really wanted that you wouldn't have such a problem spending more time with me this evening, but something is holding you back Jim. I don't know what that something is, but maybe you should go with that.”

And with that, Blaine got up, kissed him on the cheek and whispered “Goodbye Jim” in his ear and headed towards the door. She gritted her teeth as she exited the bar and headed through the hotel lobby toward the elevators, hoping she would make it. Hoping that Jim would do the right thing. She was almost there, just another ten steps.... and then she heard his voice behind her, calling out, “Sandra! Hey Wait.” As he caught up to her she turned to face him, and after a brief look they entered the elevator together, the doors slipped closed behind them.

* * *

Blaine had a luxury suite on the 10^th floor, with a view overlooking the harbor. Once inside she headed to the bathroom to freshen up and asked Jim to pour them both another drink. When she emerged she slinked over to him and accepted the glass.

“Bourbon okay?”

“Perfect” she purred, then added “What shall we drink to?”

Jim looked thoughtful towards some point where the ceiling met the wall, then said “Here's to new beginnings, with few regrets”

“And” she added, “here's to living dangerously.”

He nodded with unfeigned interest, clinked her glass with his, and drank deeply. As he did so he held her gaze with his eyes, but also drank in the beauty of the rest of her with his peripheral vision. She was, without a shred of doubt in his mind, the most beautiful woman he'd ever had this much of a shot at sleeping with. The anticipation of entering one of the two beds in the room with her fired his loins furiously, and assisted the booze in the clouding of his judgment.

She put her glass down, took his hand and led him towards the bed closest to the large glass balcony doors. Slowly and sensually she turned and pressed her body up against him, pressing her thigh particularly firmly into his groin. She would have to make this believable if she wanted to pull off the plan in full. Jim reacted to her touch as predicted, and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her even closer, tighter. He could feel the press of her full breasts against him, which in turn caused a throbbing hardon in his pants which he was quite certain she could feel against her bare thigh. She tilted her head slightly up and to the left and brushed her lips close to his. He couldn't resist.

The long, deep, wet kiss fired his loins even more, to the point where he could take it no longer, and lowered her to the bed. They fumbled with each other's clothes for a bit, but she was of course the more expert of the two. Once Jim's jacket and shirt were off she swung her leg over and rolled on top of him. Removing his hands from her now exposed breasts, she pushed his arms up over his head and deftly clasped his wrists in the pair of soft restraints she'd hidden earlier. As she ran her blood-red nails down his arms and bare chest, he, slightly caught off guard, uttered “Uh, Sandra... I'm not really into...”

“Shut up Jim” She said softly. “You came up here to play, so let's play a little.”

And with that she unbuckled his belt, unzipped his fly, and pulled his pants down below his knees, leaving his pinstriped boxers in place. His now aching hardon painfully evident below the layer of thing fabric. Now sitting on his legs she quickly turned, reached under the end of the bed and brought up two ankle restraints and fastened them to him. Turning back, their eyes met, and as she moved like a cat up over him, she brushed her hand lightly over the hard lump in his underwear and purred “Now you're ready Jim. Right? Tell me you're ready for this” and she splayed her arms wide to show off her charms.

“Oh yeah I'm ready, give it to me baby” Jim rasped, barely able to get the words out. Then with a coy yet ever so slight smile, Blaine pulled her garment back up over her breasts and proceeded to get off the bed.

“Hey, where are you going?” Jim asked rather lamely and helplessly. “Sandra?”

“My work is done Jim, it's time for me to leave.” She began picking up her things.

“What the hell are you talking about?” He struggled slightly against the restraints but the bed frames in this hotel were very solid.

“This was a test Jim. I'm sorry to say you didn't pass.”

And with that she pulled what looked to Jim like a red billiard ball with straps attached to it out of her bag, approached the bed and straddled him once again... and before he could launch any sort of protest she shoved the ball gag firmly into his mouth. He wouldn't open up at first, and his lip was pinched painfully against his teeth by it, thus he had no choice but to open wide, in pain, and in it went. Around his head went the straps, where it was firmly fastened in place.

That was the final touch, and that now done she headed to the door of the room and opened it, revealing a slightly overweight and very angry thirty-something female... Jim's wife Lorraine. Blaine stepped closer to her as Jim's voice could be heard from the room now making lame attempts at yelling “Smdrh! Lmm mggmrgl-mggmrlll!”

“I'm sorry Lorraine. He almost did the right thing at one point, I'll give him that. But he's all yours now, remember what I told you.”

“Yes, don't worry, I know it's all recorded on video, I won't kill him or anything. Not that he doesn't deserve it.”

Blaine waited in the hall, behind her she could hear the sound of their voices... “rnn, hwmnm grmm mmnrm?” followed by “Shut up Jim, just shut up! How could you DO this to us? How could you throw away almost 20 years we've been together?! HOW?!”

It was always the same. Blaine had placed a small camera mounted into a small flowerpot in the room. Indeed everything that occurred from the moment she and Jim had entered the room was recorded, leaving him no way to deny a thing. She would give Lorraine as much time as she needed to talk with Jim, then she'd have to let him go. That part almost always went the same as well.

She heard Lorraine's voice, she was talking lower, probably very close to Jim's face so only he could hear. That went on for some time, and she could well imagine what Lorraine was saying. Whatever Jim had coming, well, he definitely had it coming. Hopefully he'd learn his lesson, and maybe Lorraine would in time come to forgive him. After all, unlike a lot of other guys, Jim did not actually have sex with another woman. Semantics of course, but it was something, if only a very small item to consider. She was quite sure he would have if she'd let it go further.

A moment later she heard Jim's muffled scream from somewhere deep in his throat, “GRMNRUUUHHHHHGG! MRRMHHHHHG!!!!” Blaine rushed back into the room to find Lorraine sitting on top of Jim. She had placed a pair of locking pliers onto each of his nipples, and was proceeding to whip his exposed torso with some sort of horse whip. She could see several raised welts on Jim's sides and abdomen already, and heard Lorraine saying “You want different Jim? I'll GIVE YOU DIFFERENT!” WHAP – WHAP – WHAP! Blaine hesitated a moment or two, giving her time to get her frustration with her recalcitrant husband out of her system. Then she decided he'd had enough.

Blaine reached the bed and held Lorraine's arm back from administering the next blow. Jim's eyes were shut tightly in a perpetual wince, and she could see tears forming at the corners. She helped Lorraine off of him, saying he'd had enough for now, which he most likely had. Still groaning in pain, he finally opened his eyes when she removed the pliers. It would be several days before his crushed nipples returned to their normal shape.

“Jim, JIM, listen to me” she said as she leaned over him. “Jim, I'm going to assume you've learned your lesson here tonight. Am I right? Nod your head if you agree Jim.”

He did so, nodding his head profusely, at which point she said “Okay good. I'm going to untie you now, but you have to behave yourself Jim. I mean it. Do you understand?”

Again he nodded his assent. Blaine removed his ankle restraints, then the ones binding his wrists, whereupon he leaped off the bed and began fumbling behind his head. He had obviously turned angry, and as soon as the ball gag was out of his mouth he threw it at Blaine, yelling “Fucking BITCH!”

Blaine ducked, and the ball gag hit the wall behind her and bounced off harmlessly. She stayed in that crouched position waiting for Jim's next move. It came right away. His rage was increasing exponentially, and he came at her saying “You do this shit to guys for a living? Someone needs to teach you to...” but she cut him off cold. Before Jim knew it Blaine had him in a painful wrist lock and swung him around and back down onto the bed. She deftly side-kicked the back of his knee to force him down. It was lightning quick, and Jim simply had no defense for it.

She pinned his arm up behind his back and dug her elbow into the back of his neck, and said “I told you to behave Jim.”

He started repeating “Okay okay okay!” over and over. “I'm sorry, I'll stop. I promise.”

She held him down for a few more moments. Lorraine stood over by the TV in a funk of her own, still feeling angry but now also some shock over Jim's uncharacteristic outburst. The turmoil inside her could not easily resolve itself, thus she found the only outlet for her emotions she could, and began to weep openly.

Blaine let him up once again, and said “Take your wife home Jim, and try to fix this. And remember, YOU did it Jim, not me. I gave you every opportunity to do the right thing tonight. You can either look on what I did as a horrible deception, or you can see it as me doing you a favor, because you definitely needed a wakeup call Jim.”

He nodded, and then turned to comfort Lorraine. He apologized profusely to her as he guided her out of the room and out of the hotel. Blaine gathered up everything left in the room and headed home.

* * *

Four nights later there was an office cocktail party on the fifth floor of a rather extravagant-looking building on the west side of town. It was the law firm of Pierson & Cox no less. Blaine infiltrated it by blending in as one of the “extra women” that had been invited to the event. In most bars and nightclubs she cut quite a swath with her beauty and womanly charms, but at an event such as this there were several women to rival her beauty. None of them likely had the same goal she had though. She knew of no other firm that offered the services her company offered, at least not within several counties in any direction.

She casually lifted a champagne flute from a passing tray and lithely moved around the rather spacious front office area, and on passing the large open doors to the lavish boardroom she spotted her mark. Jonathan Cox Jr., eldest son of the venerable Horace J. cox, founding partner the firm, stood with several other lawyerly types including one woman, laughing and talking. She stared at him until he made eye contact with her, then gave him the slightest of nods which bespoke of her interest. Then she sipped her drink and waited, patiently...for her prey to approach.

It took all of ninety seconds for Jonathan to excuse himself from the group, slide his hand discreetly from the ass of the unknown woman, and head her way.

“I don't believe I've seen you at any of our parties before, miss...?”

“Wexler. Diane Wexler.”

“Very pleasurable to meet you Miss Wexler, I'm Jon by the way.”

“Diane. You can call me Diane.”

“Wonderful! Well Diane, can I get you anything... another drink? A tour? A sixty foot yacht?” he asked with a sly grin. His face was tanned and rugged, yet something in the look of him she found curiously annoying.

Without missing a step she replied “Another drink would be nice... aren't all offices pretty much the same?... and I already own a ninety footer.”

“Ah. Well, please excuse my cheapness” as he replaced their near-empty champagne flutes with full ones from another passing tray he added “Can I at least show you our executive board room?”

“Isn't this the board room?”

“That's just for non-partners. The executive is this way.”

She wordlessly acquiesced, and accompanied him down a wide and rather luxurious hallway to a large set of double doors.

“Oak?” she asked as he opened the left one for her.

“Walnut, actually.”

Once inside he closed the door behind her, and as she peered around the room she heard a “click” as he turned the lock. Her quarry had entered the trap, time to slam shut the cage door. And it will be a pleasure to do so she thought. Jonathan Cox had creep written all over him, and the impression Blaine Got from his wife was that she had no use for him either, and was getting poised to take him to the cleaners. “Do whatever you need to do with him, I don't care” was her exact words.

After a few minutes of small talk riddled with flirtation and innuendo he began getting more aggressive with her. He backed her into the large table in the center of the room, whereupon she sat her clutch purse and her drink aside and said “So, right here, standing up?”

He reached to either side of her, lightly slapping the table top with his hands and said “I was thinking more like up here” then he slid his hands around the taught slenderness of her waist and lifted her onto it. Her short slinky dress rode up high around her upper thighs, and as Jonathan moved even closer he parted her legs. A moment later, locked in a wet passionate kiss, he discovered she had no panties on. He also discovered how smoothly shaved her crotch was, and how already-moist her tunnel was. He slid first one, then two fingers into her.

Blaine allowed him to have his way with her for a time, during which she casually reached out and positioned her little purse a bit further away from them on the boardroom table. Once she set it down the camera inside activated, and it's wide angle lens was capturing everything. Then she gave herself over to his aggressive onslaught thinking Oh what the hell, why not? She hadn't been laid in forever it seemed, and creep or not he wasn't all that bad looking. She deftly undid his pants and his cock flopped into her hand. She would have bet the farm that a weasel like him would have had a tiny weasel pecker, but that didn't seem to be the case. He was huge.

Eventually, between the deep kissing, his lowering of her dress, pawing at her incredible breasts, and the very firm cock massage she was giving him, he couldn't take it any more. Pulling her ass forward he took aim and sank his stone pillar into her, then pulled back slightly, and thrust in as far as he could go. Blaine ripped open his shirt as he doffed his jacket, and wrapped her legs around him. He began pounding her, rhythmically, thrust after thrust. Blaine held onto him for dear life, pressing her tits against his hard hairy chest. Then he withdrew, pulled her off the table, turned her around, bent her over it and slid his log back into her, filling her depths once again.

Blaine gasped at how far he penetrated into her. She let herself enjoy every inch of him as she pushed back and took it all, again and again. She clenched on him, gripping his shaft, and could feel him swelling and hardening even more. His grunting and panting began to increase in pitch. It would be over soon, she could tell. So with him railing away in her she reached down between her legs and rubbed her clit. She could feel the cool hard surface of the table on the side of her face and on her rock hard nipples. She could feel his hands roughly holding her by the hips as he pistoned his huge cock in and out of her. After another moment of enjoying all these sensations together, she came, just as he did. They both cried out in glorious unabashed pleasure. After all, a room such as this was undoubtedly soundproof.

After regaining their composure and taking a moment to straighten themselves up, he had no problem with her making a quick exit. He had scored and had no further use of her, and she certainly had no further use of him either. It was sad that she had to get her sexual release from a mark from time to time when possible, but in her line of work she did not meet many men that were worth admitting into her private life. She had long-ago come to terms with it, and thus was beyond letting it bother her. In fact she never gave it a second thought, which was also sad.

While heading down to her vehicle and getting the video footage back to the office she pondered the differences between her last two marks. Jim was basically an average schmuck who just needed reminding about what a great wife he had... he needed a wakeup call. She'd definitely given him one, whereas Jonathan Cox was to put it bluntly, slime in the purest form. A guy like Jim probably deserved a second chance. Jon, well, he absolutely deserved what he was about to get, but something further occurred to her; that any woman with an ounce of intelligence and a shred of dignity would avoid getting involved with a clown like him in the first place. His only redeeming quality was his money, and of course that long hefty pecker.

She sighed, realizing that that would be enough for a lot of women. She hit the gas and opened the sun roof, letting the wind blow through her hair.... and turned her thoughts away from philandering men, and on to closing out this account and then heading out to her boat. In the morning she would catch the sunrise from out on the water, and come Monday she would do it all over again, with new clients who would have new husbands and new boyfriends to test and tempt. Maybe one of them would be the one in a million that showed her there was hope for their species.

Maybe.

End.

~ CD '09.