Kinky!

by Alex Algren

“We’ll play it by ear. I figured we could start with some champagne. The rest will take care of itself. I assure you that I will not hurt you. Unless you want me to.”

  I squeezed my legs together to keep my clit at bay. My type, and I do have one, is older, dominant women. Did I mention gorgeous? Yeah, gorgeous, older, dominant women. This dame was three for three.

  I looked into her eyes and remembered that everything we said was being recorded. I didn’t want to bust this lady, unless we were role-playing, but there was no way out of the situation that I could think of. My job was to protect and serve, but I swear, if you asked me who I was protecting and serving at the moment, my mind would have drawn a blank. I had to get her to offer me money for sex in a way that would hold up in court. Usually, the “what did you have in mind” line works for cops, but she easily sidestepped that one. I couldn’t be too blunt either; that would be entrapment.

  “Are we just going to drink champagne and play Scrabble then?”

  “I do enjoy a good game of Scrabble, but no. I thought you could model some outfits for me. And I would pay you. To model.”

  Oh, she was slick all right. I was supposed to turn a john (in this case, a jane) away if I couldn’t get him to solicit me for sex outright. The problem was that this broad had piqued my curiosity. The fact that she was a knockout and my type didn’t help either. All my instincts were telling me to get in her car, so I did. I would tell the captain later that I felt I could get her to proposition me once we were in the hotel, that I had already been standing on the street for an hour, that I was cold and wet, yada, yada, and blah, blah. And yes, Captain, that is the exact moment that my wire stopped working.

  She seemed pleased that I got inside the car. I immediately put one hand on her leg, which she quickly removed. “You are to behave until we are safely inside our hotel room.”

  I was tempted to place my hand back on her leg, just for kicks, to see if she would get mad, but since I was still wired, I decided instead to take the opportunity to scope her out. It seemed like her stems stretched from the pedals all the way to the sunroof. She was voluptuous, unlike newbie lesbians, who think stick figures are attractive. Unfortunately, that’s all you meet when you go to bars and clubs, which is one of the reasons why I was single. Women like this didn’t frequent my local bar on Ladies’ Night Thursdays.

  “What’s your name?” I asked only because I was getting restless. The fact that I had defied orders was starting to hit me, and hard, but if I had resisted her charms, my gut told me I would have spent the rest of my life regretting it.

  “Jane.” She smiled, and although I’ve never seen the painting in person, I would say that it was a Mona Lisa smile, all vague and mysterious.

  “Well, I’m Trick,” I joked back. She laughed. It was a good laugh, healthy but not too strong, and real, not phony.

  All of a sudden I saw the hotel looming large. Holy crap! The Biltmore? It cost a few hundred bottle caps a night just to rent a closet at that hotel! I had always wanted to stay there, but not looking like a hooker for christ’s sake!

  She stopped the car on the street before going up the long driveway. “Reach into the backseat; there is a trench coat you can put on over your clothes. It’s been raining, so you won’t look out of place.”

  This dame really thought of everything, just like a good domme would. I reached into the backseat and pulled on a trench coat that, if the designer were any indication, would cost me about a month’s salary. Now, I know we had been followed; that was protocol. The other members of the sting were supposed to ensure my safety. The thing is, I knew that they couldn’t get to us once we were in the hotel. A hotel like this wouldn’t voluntarily divulge a guest’s room number, and my fellow officers wouldn’t be able to get a warrant to make the hotel do so. After all, the lady had not committed a crime. At least not yet.

  We pulled up to the entrance of the hotel. She told the valet to get her luggage, and he removed two suitcases from her trunk. If the trench coat would have cost me a month’s pay, her luggage surely would have cost me two.

  A bellhop loaded Jane’s luggage onto a cart and waited while we checked in. The hotel staff either recognized her or got paid a lot of money to act like it did, because each one of them bent over backward to please her. Then again, she seemed to bring that out in people. I know I was definitely thinking about bending over.

  After she checked us in, we got into the elevator with the bellhop. She managed to position me in the rear of the elevator without me even realizing it. As we rode, she bent over slightly, pulled up her dress and adjusted the strap of her garter belt. I didn’t miss that scene and neither did the bellhop. We both kept staring at her the entire elevator ride, and I don’t think either one of us was thinking about baseball.

  The elevator stopped finally. I was wet from the rain and from all the images swimming around in my head. The funny thing was that I could also imagine my brothers in arms, trying to get information out of the front-desk staff. If I didn’t have something better to do, I would have loved to watch that exercise in futility.

  All three of us walked into the suite. This place was even fancier than I had imagined. It was huge! There was a living room area, a bar, and a balcony with a panoramic view. There were also a couple of rooms set off from the main area. I’m not into interior decorating, so my description of the suite probably wouldn’t help, but a twelfth-grade vocabulary word popped into my mind: opulence. It’s amazing what the old noodle can recall when it’s inspired. The suite had gold and red everywhere; it looked like a palace. I must have been gawking like an idiot, because I heard the door close and turned around to find that I was finally alone with this magnificent creature. Even though I deal with the worst element of society on a daily basis, I felt scared for a moment.

  “Excuse me while I go to the bathroom.”

  “Young ladies do not excuse themselves of their own accord. They ask for permission.”

  “I’m sorry, ma’am. May I please be excused? I need to use the bathroom.”

  She looked me up and down, taking her sweet time. “In a moment, you may.” She grabbed me by the back of my neck and led me to the suitcases. “Open the one on the right.”

  I did as she asked. The suitcase had an assortment of lingerie in different colors and bottles of lotion. She grabbed one of the bottles, opened it, sniffed, then held it under my nose. “Do you like this scent? I think it becomes you.”

  The lotion smelled delicious, like a cross between lavender and fresh peaches. “Yes, ma’am.”

  She then pulled out a burgundy-colored teddy, held it against me, looked at my face and then down at the teddy. She thrust the teddy and the bottle of lotion into my hands. “Take these into the bathroom with you. Take a bath and put both of them on before you come out.”

  I started walking toward a door that I thought would lead to the bathroom.

  “Trick.” I heard that pretty laugh again.

  “Yes, ma’am?” I answered.

  “Take your time. I’m sure you are still wet and uncomfortable from being forced to stand out in the rain. There is no hurry. You are mine all evening, correct?”

  “Yes, ma’am.” I appreciated her generosity, but I was in no mood for a leisurely bath. I wanted to kiss her plump wet mouth and hold her large breasts in my hands. I had literally risked my career to be with this amazing woman, and I wasn’t going to waste any time.

  As soon as I got into the bathroom, I removed the wire that had been taped to my chest hours ago and drowned it in the sink, making sure it could never be resuscitated. I drew a bath and threw some complimentary bath crystals in it. Why not? I washed myself, making sure to clean all my parts extremely well, rubbed the lotion into my skin after drying myself off and then threw the teddy on. I stared at myself in the mirror. Although I was somewhat of a tomboy, I did clean up well. I had always kept my hair long—it just made life easier—but I was lean, to the point of looking athletic, which gave my appearance a bit of a
n edge. I don’t know what the teddy was made of, but it felt really smooth on my lotion-soft skin.

  When I stepped out of the bathroom, Jane was standing on the balcony in a black corset and black panties with a matching garter belt and stockings. She was sipping a glass of champagne. “Pour yourself a glass and come here.”

  I wasn’t a champagne kind of girl, more beer and scotch really, but I did as she asked. Something made me want to obey her. I joined her on the balcony, slightly shy in my teddy now that I had an audience.

  She turned to me. “You look radiant.” She motioned her drink toward mine and we clinked glasses.

  “Luminous, really. You should step outside your safety zone more often.”

  I became even shyer at her description of me. I wasn’t any of those things. I was a 32-year-old female vice cop, but it was sweet of her to say so. “Thank you, ma’am.”

  After we finished our champagne she tossed our glasses over the balcony, placed my hands on the railing and stood directly behind me. I looked out at the vast space behind the hotel. I could make out an Olympic-size swimming pool, a golf course and darkness. Then I felt her hands. She had started caressing my shoulders and was languidly trailing her hands across my neck, back, arms and ass. I was on fire for her, and I wondered if she could feel the heat burning inside me.

  She moved my hair to the side and started kissing my neck while firmly kneading my ass. I was glad she had placed both my hands on the railing, because without support, I might have made a fool of myself.

  “Are you enjoying yourself?” Her voice had changed. It was huskier and less authoritative, as if she had been drinking scotch.

  “Yes. Thank you.” It was an effort to get the words out. She reached around and cupped my two breasts. I could feel her palms and fingers through the thin fabric of the teddy, and I was sure she could feel my nipples harden at her touch.

  “I’m glad. You deserve a night off from work.” I heard her laugh again, but like her voice, her laugh had also changed. It was lower and breathy, more like a deep chuckle than the sweet, tinkling laugh I heard earlier.

  My body was pressed against the balcony railing, and Jane was pressed against me. She started rubbing my erect nipples through the fabric while kissing my back, shoulders and neck gently. She kissed me with her mouth open, and I could feel her warm tongue on my skin. My breathing was fast, and I started to moan. “Do you want me?” she asked.

  “Oh, god, yes.” I answered. “So much, ma’am.”

  She pushed my legs open with one of hers and started rubbing the top of her thigh against my cunt. My hands tightened on the rail for support and I almost came. “Not yet, darling; only when I allow you to.” Jane had complete control over me and she knew it.

  Her words made me almost come again, but I held it in for her, to please her as she was pleasing me.

  One of her hands made its way from my breast to the back of my neck, and she pushed my head forward until I was nearly bent completely over the railing. Her other hand trailed off my breast and down my back before stopping between my legs. “Do you want this?” Jane whispered. “Do you want me to fuck you?”

  I could barely stand at that moment, much less speak. I had never been with someone so glamorous, so exciting. She was all I had ever wanted but had never been able to find at any of those girl bars. She was my fantasy come true: a powerful, decisive woman who could turn a tough vice cop into a submissive little girl.

  “Yes, ma’am.” I used all my strength to give her the answer I knew she wanted. I felt her fingers push inside me, and I used all my willpower not to come without her approval. It felt incredible to be penetrated by her, to know that this stunning woman, dolled up from head to toe in expensive black lingerie, wanted to fuck me, a simple public servant. I pushed back onto her hand, wanting her completely inside me, needing to be filled by her perfectly manicured fingers.

  She released my neck only to grab a fistful of my hair and hold me in place, pounding her fingers in and out of my pussy, fast and hard. I could feel my cunt soaked and dripping, and knew that soon I would not be able to hold off the orgasms that were threatening to come, with or without permission.

  “Please…”

  “Please what?”

  “Please, please…”

  “You know what you must say. I will not allow you release until you ask correctly.”

  “Oh, God…please ma’am, please let me come.”

  “That sounds like a request, not a question.”

  My pussy ached from the amazing cunt-fuck she was giving me. I was dripping all over her hand and my thighs. I wanted to come so badly, why was she torturing me like this?

  “Proper young ladies ask for permission from their mistress. They do not make requests,” she reminded me.

  Thank you, god. Perhaps she had taken pity on me. “Ma’am, may I please come?”

  “You may.”

  The multiple orgasms rocked my body so hard, it was a surprise I didn’t knock us both to the floor. She kept her fingers deep inside me the entire time, which made me come even harder. I continued to hold on to the railing as orgasm after orgasm ripped through me, forcing me to shake violently against her, but she held on the entire time without removing her fingers from inside my cunt.

  Once I had stopped shaking, she led me to the king-size bed. The sheets were soft, yet crisp at the same time, the pillows like giant marshmallows. She poured herself more champagne and held it up to my lips so I could drink. We were both lying on the enormous bed, Jane in her black lingerie, and me in the wine-colored teddy. My body was starting to recover from the incredible fucking she had given me. I turned and asked if I could kiss her, but instead she grabbed me by the hair and pulled me close. We started kissing as violently as she had just fucked me, and my clit immediately reignited.

  After a few minutes, she pulled her face away from mine. “Remove my panties and service me.”

  She didn’t have to order me to eat her cunt, since it was the only image running through my head. I moved over her neck and her corset, kissing my way down her body. I must have removed her panties too fast, because she told me to slow down. “Yes, ma’am. I’m sorry, ma’am.”

  Once I was in position and staring at her striking pink cunt, I pressed my face against it and inhaled. Her pussy smelled sweet and she was as wet as I was, her juices pouring from between her legs and over my face. I licked around the outside of her cunt, at the fold between thigh and crotch, and she whimpered. I kissed and nibbled her inner thighs, near her cunt, hearing her moan and feeling her shiver. I was enjoying this just as much as the fucking she had given me, and I hadn’t even gotten started on the entrée yet.

  She grabbed hold of my hair again and guided my face. “Eat my pussy. Now.”

  I started licking and sucking her labia and clit like I was getting paid for it. Well, technically, I was.

  As I licked her pussy and she became more and more wet, I began to feel the waves of an orgasm making their way through her body. Her thighs tightened on my head, and her body began to lift from the bed. I clamped my arms around her legs to hold her down and began furiously sucking her clit, then gently biting it, circling with my tongue slowly, then flicking my tongue rapidly. She was moaning so loudly and shaking so much that I knew I was giving her what she deserved. If only I could receive a commendation for this! I slowed down to make her wait for it, but she gripped my head in both hands and ordered me to continue. She started rocking her hips back and forth as if she were fucking my face and then erupted into a skull-rocking orgasm that almost threw me off the bed.

  After she had finished coming, she pulled me up to her and started kissing me gently, licking and sucking my lips and tongue slowly, tasting herself. Her body continued to tremble against me.

  “That was very good, Detective.” I froze for a minute. What? Did I hear her correctly, or was my brain so fucked (literally) that I was hearing things? Then she chuckled and spoke again. “You must be very good at what you
do. You figured out exactly how to service me without being given any clues.”

  Was she from Internal Affairs? Was I going to get fired? Screw it. It had been worth it.

  She kissed me again deeply. “Relax, Detective. You aren’t being reprimanded. Not yet, anyway, but I’m sure your superiors would like a few words with you for not following proper procedure.”

  I looked at her silently for a minute. “Who are you?”

  “My name is Kate Fellows, and I am the CEO of Roundtable Publishing. We own your city’s daily newspaper, along with about 300 others across the country. One of our editors wanted to write a piece on the prostitution sting, denouncing it as a waste of taxpayer dollars when you have so many other, more serious, crimes in Miami. The article would have alerted the public to the fact that there were going to be undercover cops posing as prostitutes. There were some legal questions involved.”

  I wasn’t sure what to say, but my brain must have kicked into detective mode. “All your little speech tells me is how you found out about the sting. What were you doing cruising the streets, trying to pick up a hooker?”

  “Curiosity, mainly. I wanted to see what a cop dressed as a hooker would look like. I wanted to know if I would be able to tell the difference.”

  “That still doesn’t tell me why you tried to pick me up.”

  “I picked you up because I wanted to have sex with you. Plain and simple. No mystery to solve, Detective.”

  “Did you know I was a cop?”

  “Not at first, but once you leaned into my window I knew you were interested in me and experiencing an ethical crisis of your own. To act on your desire and go against departmental procedure or to try and… What is the term? Oh, yes. Bust me. Your internal struggle was all over your face, which excited me even more.”

  She trailed her hands along my shoulders and sides, looking at me earnestly. “There is nothing for you to be upset about, Detective. You didn’t let on that you were a police officer, and I didn’t let on that I already suspected you were. We’re even.”

  I thought about what she said. Being a detective and the daughter of a detective, what really bugged me was that I hadn’t figured out that she wasn’t an ordinary Jane.