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Shrugging my shoulders, I wink. “It's what they want to do. What can I say?”
“One of these days you’re going to find someone you want for more than just some head.”
I look at him like he’s crazy. This shit is way too lucrative to even think about having sex with someone. I’m the fucking Head Hunter. “Yeah right, dude. I’ve got it made. What else could I possibly want?”
Chase laughs, but he still looks skeptical. Whatever.
Time to head out. “Let’s go, man. Time to hit up the Big Apple.”
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.
