Lapdancing Girlfriend Ch. 04

Things had gotten intimate, when suddenly one of the guy's friends, Justin something-or-another, had shown up. Jen had not wanted to stay, but had ended up having sex with both of them all night on a dirty mattress, her body used repeatedly until she had passed out, waking up naked and alone. She had not been forced, and she had not said no, so it had not been rape—but she had not wanted it to happen and it had.

In truth, every man she had dated had ended up having sex with her when they wanted to, not when she was ready; she was just too timid or malleable to fight it.

Except for Dan. Dan had been patient, Dan had never pushed her, and when they had first made love, it had been her choice. And that was what it came down to, wasn't it, she thought. When she lay with Dan, she was making love to the person she chose. Others she had been with had merely fucked her, a physical use of her body. She even enjoyed it eventually, but it lacked substance compared to what occurred between her and Dan.

Over the speakers she heard another sound, the repetitive noises of "gachk...gaachk...ackth" coming over the sound. In repulsion she realized the officer was showing Dan the video of Tim deep-throating her, the sounds being those of his cock ramming into the back of her throat repeatedly as he fucked her mouth.

She still had her eyes on Dan instead of the video, watching as his eyes flared, but otherwise showed no emotion. Jen was about to leave the room when Dan squeezed her hand. He glanced at her, his lips mouthing the words "I love you" as she lowered her gaze, not feeling worthy of his love.

She heard the agent speak to Dan. "This is how Charles DeWight treats women. This is not just your fiancée he puts this through. Although there are some women who accept such treatment, the one's that do not are still forced. And there is the issue Mr. Jeffries," the officer told Dan. "Free will is fine and dandy if it works in his favor, but Charles DeWight does not care if it doesn't, he exploits women for profit. Whether it is through pornography, strip clubs, or other sexual vocations, he cares little for the woman, her feelings, or those of her loved ones."

The sudden utterance of "I'm cumming!" from the laptop drew all of their attention.

Jen watched the scene, showing her face with her eyes half-lidded, her mouth wrapped around Tim's cock. As she stared at the video she saw Tim pulled out of her mouth, his shaft covered with her saliva and shining in the light as he began ejaculating on her face. All of them watched as Tim milked his cock onto her cheek, the white fluid rolling and dripping off her chin.

In morbid fascination she watched her lips open and Tim guide his cock back into her mouth. Jen knew she was actually about to say something at that moment; however, on the video, it looked like she had eagerly accepted his phallus.

She could only stare as she cleaned off his cock while groaning in response, before he pulled it out from between her lips, a loud suctioning sound coming from her. Jen continued to watch transfixed as her image looked at the camera, amazed at the amount of sperm on her face.

She figured the video was over, but it did not fade to black. Then she watched in horror as Diamond on the screen began to smear Tim's cum over her body, the camera zooming out as she spread it across her breasts, her stomach, her arms, even her legs. It was not until the video showed her naked body to the world covered in cum before it finally ended.

The agent left the laptop sitting on the table as he said, "You know, I know, and Miss Simmons knows that was not her or how she normally acts. That was what Charles DeWight creates, distributes, and forces people to do," he finished.

Jen was still amazed at her calm acceptance which had come over her this morning. The scene on the video had caught her by surprise, but having lived through it once, it was easier to watch. The cop was correct, this was inevitable and she had to reluctantly accept what would happen. This video was only the beginning.

In the silence of the room after the video ended she asked the agent, "If Dan says no, you will stop, won't you?" feeling as if she were disembodied, another person speaking.

"I'm not a bad person Miss Simmons," the officer replied. "Of course I will stop, I won't even suggest it again if either of you say so," he told them both. "This is to test if either of you can accept what will happen, not force or coerce you into doing something you refuse. Just say the word and I will leave you both alone," he told them.

Jen nodded and looked at Dan. She could see the resolve in his eyes, as well as a mixture of other emotions—love, fear, sadness. "I'm willing to do this if you are, but you need to be honest. If you cannot handle it, just say so," she told him.

Dan said nothing, his jaw firmly set. Jen knew that was the only acceptance she would get. Realizing she needed a moment to herself, she looked at them both, "I need a moment to freshen up, if you'll excuse me?" she said.

The agent told her to take her time as she got up to leave the room.

As she reached the doors, she looked back at the agent, asking, "Is there anything special you like?"

The agent looked at her in surprise as he finally looked down, as if suddenly shy as he said, "I'm a leg man," he said, looking up at her, "so have been wondering what you would look like in white heels," he confided.

She nodded, turning to leave. Right before she stepped out of the room she heard the agent call out, "And you can leave the robe off," as she closed the doors, not turning around.

Jen wondered what the two men were going to talk about as she went up to her and Dan's room. It was an odd thought—what did a man who was about to screw another man's woman say to him?

She entered the room in a daze, looking at herself in the mirror and sitting down at her vanity. Grabbing her brush, she began brushing her hair, and then proceeded to put on a light foundation and mascara. Finally she grabbed her lipstick, choosing her favorite MAC Pro Longwear, wondering if the color's name held any significance, 'Extended Play.'

She knew it was incongruous to care how she looked, but the act of putting on her make-up calmed her, like she were preparing for work—which she realized may be what she was doing now.

Finally satisfied with how her face looked, she stood up and examined herself in the full-length mirror. She let the robe fall to the floor, standing in nothing but her lace camisole and matching boy shorts. Her apprehension increased as she turned around and beheld the crack of her ass through the opening in the back of her shorts.

The officer's words echoed in her head, "You can leave the robe off."

She chided herself for suddenly thinking the opened back of the shorts was too blatant. Why was she worried about him seeing something he had already seen before? She had been naked at the club, and he was probably going to see a lot more before the day ended.

Walking into her closet, she grabbed her white pair of Viva Bordello platforms and put them on. Once again she looked at herself in the mirror, seeing how the almost 6" heels lifted her ass—the reason she had bought the shoes in the first place. They were only 1.5" platforms—low enough to wear anywhere and not typical 'stripper shoes' many girls wore.

Seeing her toned legs, she remembered another one of the agent's comments, that he was a leg man.

Kicking off her shoes, she went to her drawer and pulled out a package of lace-topped, sheer white stockings, sliding them up her legs. There was a swirling design up the sides—wedding bells she noted sullenly—but they were the only pair of white stockings she had available.

Once again she looked at herself in the mirror. Although the shoes had definitely been an improvement for her legs, the stockings were what made the outfit. It was often the slightest accessory that could change an outfit from good to fantastic, she thought.

For a second time she noted the opening down the crack of her ass, still feeling self-conscious about it blatantly exposing her. Ridiculous as the feeling was, she did not want to give the impression she was that willing, feeling if she were dressed too slutty, it would give the wrong impression.

She almost laughed at the thought; here she was preparing herself to be fucked by a stranger, and she was worried about impropriety.

Even so, she dug through her lingerie drawer until she found what she was after—a ruffled lace micro-miniskirt. Sliding it over her hips and looking in the mirror. It did not cover much, instead merely teasing the eye; however, the material at least covered the opened crack of her boy shorts. Twirling around she saw the bottoms of her ass cheeks hung out from the skit, but knew that was as much a tease as the see-through cloth itself.

Finally as ready as she could be, she went downstairs.

********************

Patrick Geiger sat across from Mr. Jeffries while silence filled the room. They had talked a few minutes about Charles DeWight, but the elephant in the room remained. What did two men talk about when one was going to have sex with the other's fiancée?

The agent was not sure how long he would let the charade continue. He had been fairly certain Mr. Jeffries was going to put a stop to it; however, once his fiancée spoke up, he had quieted and not said much, but Geiger knew the man was close to the breaking point. So unfortunately, as his branch chief had said, he needed to push harder.

He was somewhat surprised at the woman's stoic resolve, but then as an exotic dancer she may have been desensitized to simple innuendo. He had not truly pushed her yet, having merely suggested the idea of him having sex with her—it was Mr. Jeffries who was the weaker link.

Miss Simmons—being a stripper—was used to showing her body, so merely having her strip was not enough to push her to the edge. In fact, if he had to put a wager on it, he did not even believe feeling her up would shake her resolve enough, but he did not feel the same about Mr. Jeffries.

Suddenly his thoughts were interrupted by the study door opening. What walked through literally took his breath away, as he had never seen anything more beautiful and sensual.

There was not one thing that caught his attention, and to cease his ocular epilepsy he focused first on his personal preference, her legs.

She had not only put on the high heels like he had asked, but also a pair of silk stockings, the tops laced and seeming to grip her tight thighs. The combination of heels and stockings were breathtaking, making her legs go on forever.

Around her hips she wore a frilly lacey lingerie skirt which extended only a few inches below her hips, not even covering her crotch; he knew her ass would likewise be hanging out behind her. Raising his gaze, he beheld her tanned, well-toned midriff, definitely those of a dancer and athlete. Then, forcing his look higher, he beheld her chest, held tightly by the see-through lace crop-top, the outlines of her bust and areola unmistakable.

Finally he looked at her face. Although she had put on make-up, it was not excessive, instead drawing attention to her natural beauty as opposed to masking or disguising her features into a parody of beauty. Her stunning features were surrounded by her long silken hair, now brushed and gleaming.

He had seen every DSA spokesmodel in the history of the company and although some were attractive, none were as marvelous. She was in a league unto herself, and there was no doubt why Charles DeWight was interested in her; she would make him millions.

His cock was hard before she had taken four steps into the room. This woman was sensuality personified—no longer Miss Jennifer Simmons, but truly Diamond, a DSA girl in the flesh.

He glanced at Mr. Jeffries, whose mouth was open, pure awe and shock in his face. Once again Special Agent Geiger's training kicked in, understanding even though the man had seen his fiancée dressed and undressed a thousand times, being dolled up for a stranger she was allegedly going to have sex with in their own home changed everything.

He stood up, moving behind the loveseat to meet her. "You look stunning," was all he could say.

He saw her smile, her cheeks blushing, the tone complimenting her look so much he had to swallow while he fought for control. This close to her he noticed a slight smell of lavender, uncertain if it were perfume, her shampoo, or something else.

Geiger could not help but be aroused. This woman was beautiful, dressed specifically for sex. He had a raging erection; even the movement of shifting slightly sending a shock through is system. The woman was a spark in the middle of the gasoline that was his testosterone, and he knew he had to break her or Jeffries before he lost control.

Grabbing her wrist, he turned her towards Jeffries. "Remember, this is all happening because of Charles DeWight. I would not be here but for him, your woman would not be forced into sexual servitude if it were not for him," he told the man.

He saw the man's jaw clench, sensing the signs of him about to break, so he moved behind Diamond, placing his hands on her bare waist.

Geiger felt the girl flinch, but otherwise she remained stoic, while he saw Jeffries' jaw lock tighter. The heat of her bare flesh against his palm was both cool and scorching at the same time, the smooth skin sending shockwaves through his body directly to his balls.

Looking over her shoulder at Mr. Jeffries, he slid his hands around her waist to her stomach, feeling the smooth texture of her skin. "One word and I will stop," he told them, "one word and I will walk out of here and you can do what you want with Charles DeWight," he cajoled them.

The woman was so soft, and he unconsciously pulled her against him, his dick pressing against her ass. He felt her quiver, knowing she felt his hard member against her.

"Just tell me when to stop," he whispered in her ear.

He did not expect her to say anything, nor did she. This show was for the man, waiting for him to break, to call quits on the whole thing. Yet as he looked over her shoulder once again, the man remained still, his jaw clenched.

Geiger knew he had to up the ante, as he slowly slid his hands up, feeling her ribs as his thumbs came into contact with her lace top beneath her breasts. Still watching Jeffries, his primary attention was focused on the sensations going through his hands as his thumbs stroked them hemline of the top.

He had planned to merely slide his hands across her body so Jeffries could see; however, he recalled his earlier thoughts, wondering if the girl's breasts were real or not. Subtle touching was not working, but an overt grope could definitely be the breaking point for Jeffries. This was his only chance to touch her before he was told to stop.

The Bureau taught field agents to make use of any advantage to gain the upper hand, so without further hesitation he slid his hands beneath the top, cupping her breasts.

Surprisingly the woman sighed, her head falling against his shoulder as he held the soft yielding flesh in his palms. He could not believe how soft and firm her mammaries were—the dichotomy causing a rush of pure adrenaline through his system.

Reflexively he ground his hard-on firmer against the girl's ass, surprised when he felt her push back against him.

Sliding his hands up the spongy flesh, he felt the hard nubs of her nipples rasp against his palm as he squeezed both breasts gently.

The woman made a small moan which he felt through her body more than heard as he continued to look at Jeffries, who remained as he was before, jaw locked as he watched a stranger fondle his fiancée. And yet the man had not broken—nor had the woman. He had not thought she would, having been in the stripping business for so long, but based on how much Jeffries hated her stripping, he thought this would set the man off.

The woman's response confused him as well. He had not expected her to object, but her reactions were not those of a woman bracing herself and allowing something which she was against.

He had to push harder.

"Take your top off," he told the girl, loud enough for Jeffries to hear.

Surprisingly the girl complied without hesitation, pulling the top up and over her head while he continued to massage and knead her breasts. Neither of them moved other than his hands kneading her breasts and her hands pulling the top off and dropping it on the floor beside them.

Now there was nothing between her breasts, his hands, and Mr. Jeffries eyes, but that man did not budge.

They were definitely real, the agent thought to himself as he squeezed the soft flesh. Without thinking, he grasped her nipples between his fingers, twirling the hardened nubs. The girl let out a louder moan, feeling the vibration through her body as he teased her rigid buds.

He knew Jeffries had heard the moan; however, he surprisingly remained sitting quietly, watching as Geiger held his fiancée by her chest.

Emboldened, the agent moved one hand down, sliding across the smooth, warm flesh of her stomach until he felt the lace waistband of her panties. Not having the nerve to slide his hand beneath them, he instead glided across the lace material to the junction between her thighs.

The woman let out a louder moan as she moved her hips, pressing his palm more firmly against her mons. Without thinking his fingers cupped the cleft between her legs, amazed to find the material damp as the girl once again moved her hips forward, increasing the pressure of his hand against her.

Looking up, he was astonished that Jeffries had still not said a word.

Since slow and gentle was not fazing the man, he reluctantly slid his hand off the woman's breast to her back, between her shoulder blades. Without warning he pushed her forward, continuing to hold her crotch with one hand, creating a fulcrum and forcing her to bend over the back of the loveseat.

Diamond steadied herself with her hands on the back of the loveseat as he roughly massaged her crotch with his left hand. Unexpectedly her ass ground harder against his pelvis as his cock wedged deeper within her crack, the feeling almost causing him to cum in his pants.

Now that the woman was bent over at the waist, he had a clear view of Jeffries, who remained in his chair like a statue. Geiger had one more angle, wondering if the visible aspect of what could happen would break the man.

Sliding his hands back around the beautiful woman's hips, he massaged her ass briefly before stepping away to the side—he wanted Jeffries to see what he was doing. Looking directly at the man, Geiger reached down and slowly unbuckled his belt, then undid his pants, slowly lowering his zipper.

The man did not flinch; however, he did avert his eyes and Geiger thought he had him until the man returned looking at him. As if a silent gauntlet had been thrown, he lowered his pants along with his boxers, freeing his erect penis.

If he were not looking directly at him, Geiger would have thought there was no reaction. Almost imperceptively the man's eyes widened slightly, the muscle in his jaw slightly flexing; however, that was the only sign that he registered what was going on around him. And he still did not tell Geiger to stop.

Looking over at Diamond who was watching him over her shoulder, the agent noted she had remained bent over, her luscious tits hanging below her. Her mouth was slightly open and he noticed her respiration rate was increased. Amazingly she was aroused, although he had gathered that from the dampness of her panties earlier.

Unbelievably Jeffries had not said anything, so Geiger moved back to behind the woman, flipping up her skirt.

"Wow," he gasped, observing the back of her panties having a 2-3 inch wide opening down the back, laced up by a silvery white ribbon, the crack of her ass bared.