Covert Seduction

A woman in a blue dress

Her second drink arrives as she perches on her barstool and patiently observes her target, Victor Lancaster. Victor may not know that his company manages investment accounts for sex traffickers, contract killers, and other unsavory groups. He is a rainmaker, a moneymaker, and the company lets him do his magic. He’s the weakest spot in the company’s security armor.

Victor is good looking, better than many of Taylor’s assignments. He’s already got some gray, a bit early for a 35 year old man. He’s just over six feet tall, and fit. He’s wearing a perfectly tailored suit, stylish and sleek, with a slightly loosened tie. He’s got a roguish smile, the easy confidence of a man who has won at life repeatedly, and expects the world to continue to lay down at his feet. Taylor is ready to make her move, to reel in Victor like the arrogant fish that he is, but there is an obstacle.

The blonde Victor was talking to gets up and leaves, and he’s disappointed, it’s visible on his face. He’s looking into his glass, thoughtful, surprised he did not close that deal. He’s used to winning. Taylor, sensing her moment, finishes her own drink, and taps her glass lightly on the bar, to get the bartender’s attention, and Victor’s. The barman arrives, and asks if she’s ready for another drink. Victor, three seats down, tells the bartender that the drink is on him, to put it on his tab, and takes a look at Taylor.

He likes what he sees. She’s brunette, with hints of auburn in her long wavy hair. At five foot nine, she’s just shorter than him while wearing her professional heels. She’s beautiful in a classy and old fashioned way, a reserved but alluring amount of makeup accentuating her cheekbones and drawing attention to her ice-blue eyes. Taylor wears a sleek gray skirt and jacket over a bright teal blouse, all tailored to hint at her body beneath.

He smiles at her, and asks if he can move over and sit closer. She replies, “Sure, and thank you for the drink, I’m Anna” using one of her common aliases.

“I’m Vic, nice to meet you. That’s a pretty name, Anna. Suited to a pretty lady. What brings you into The Hidden Door? Have I seen you here before?” Victor is looking deeply into Taylor’s eyes, trying to establish a non-verbal connection, communicating a message of “trust me.”

Taylor lies “You may have, I come in here after I visit nearby clients, but not very often. It’s a nice place to unwind, and to avoid the rush hour mobs.” She looks down at her phone, at the time, “Mission accomplished, I had no idea it was 8:30 already. What a long day, but I’m sure you get it. Work hard, play hard.”

Victor’s eyebrows rise at the phrase. “Work hard, play hard, that’s my motto,” he repeats, and smiles. Victor is on the hook, now. He and Taylor talk about their jobs, his in investments, her cover story as Anna, the legal consultant. Taylor puts her hand on his a few minutes into the conversation, and is lightly running the back of her fingernails on his hand and arm after that. The little things, the small touches, the looks into his eyes, all contribute to the seduction, sinking the hook deeper, and reeling him in.

Taylor’s most effective tool of seduction is to make her target think everything is his idea. With her non-verbal cues leading him along, suggesting her acceptance, Victor asks if she’d like to come up to his place, saying that he could mix another round of drinks. She pretends to think about it, looks at her briefcase for a moment as if considering her work, then demurely accepts.

Victor’s apartment is a penthouse on the 37th floor, and jaded Taylor is genuinely impressed. He’s got a beautiful view of midtown and downtown, and the décor is tasteful. He mixes a pair of drinks and Taylor beckons him to the couch, facing the impressive view. As he sits beside her, she stretches her back, raising her arms. The movement challenges her business suit, breasts straining forward above the button of her jacket, blouse rising, showing an inch of narrow waist above her skirt. The slow seductions are the most effective.

Victor settles in on the couch, his desire stoked by her subtle charms. They continue their conversations from before, with a long diversion as Victor points out various famous buildings in the skyline below and before them. She “oooohs” and “aaaahs” at the cathedrals and the skyscrapers and museums, leaning into him as he gives his tour. She kicks off her heels, and brings one stockinged leg under her on the couch, turning to him, putting a hand on his shoulder. “Your place here is really nice, Victor. It’s a great living room, and a spectacular view.” She bats her eyes and overplays her slight buzz, overdoing each flirty gesture.

He takes the bait, “The living area is wonderful, I love it. I think you’d like the bedroom, too, Anna.” Taylor looks at him coquettishly, building a few last bits of anticipation in the man before leaning in and kissing him. The soft kiss lasts for moments, and she brings up a hand, runs it along his jawline, feeling hints of stubble. Emboldened, Victor kisses back, putting a hand on the back of Taylor’s neck, pulling her in, kissing her hard. She moans softly.

Most field operatives like Taylor view seduction and sex as a necessary part of the job, no different, emotionally, than completing an expense report. Their acting skills, their sexual capabilities, their training, all contribute to bedroom experiences that their targets find completely believable. Taylor could fake it if she wanted. She enjoys it, both the game and the sex. With Victor, an attractive man whose only sins are arrogance and having a set of access codes, she could have fun.

She leans forward onto Victor on the couch, the two of them spilling sideways, Taylor on top. She hikes up her skirt a few inches, and straddles him, legs on either side as they continue their kiss. His hand reaches up, gently caressing her cheek from ear to chin. He trails a finger under her chin and down her neck, then finds the top button of her blouse. She feels his intent and sits up, straddling his belly. She looks down at him, a mock scolding look on her face, mixed with a smile. “Are you trying to unbutton my blouse, Victor?” He nods, and reaches up his hand to continue. She knocks his hand away, and says “you lay back and enjoy the show, OK?”

He puts his hands behind his head, and watches as Taylor unbuttons the single brass button on her jacket, and shrugs it off. As she tosses it to the table, she stretches her arms high, grinding herself on him, teasing. She unbuttons the blouse, stopping when only two buttons remain. She leans forward, her hands together on his upper chest, squeezing her cleavage together between her upper arms “Are you enjoying it so far?” she asks, and he nods, impressed.

She sits back up and quickly removes the shirt, leaving her white sheer bra. Her torso is long and toned, her breasts are firm and high in the bra. The cups of the bra have some elasticity, and appear to strain against her boobs. They aren’t huge, full C cups, just a bit more than a handful for Mr. Lancaster. She unhooks the bra and brings her hands forward. She cups her tits and lifts them as she removes the bra. Her boobs settle with a heavy bounce, and an echoing jiggle. Vic can no longer merely watch, and reaches up, grabbing one with each hand. As he gently squeezes and massages her, Taylor hears herself moan. She is getting wet, enjoying Victor.

She lightly grinds herself on Victor’s abs as he plays with her breasts, and after a moment, she asks him “did you say something before about the bedroom?” Victor smiles, the topless “Anna” has given him quite a show so far, he’s obviously enjoying himself. She stands, and helps him up from the couch. They kiss again, and her hands find his hardening cock through the fabric of his pants.

“OK, slow down, Anna. Follow me.” He takes her hand, and they walk from the high ceilinged common area to the bedroom. The gray walls and black furniture, with hints of blue throughout, betray a professional hand in choosing Vic’s style. It is tasteful, too well coordinated for an oversexed financier to have selected, in her opinion. He does dress well, though, she thinks, maybe I’m underestimating him. As these detached thoughts pass through her mind, Victor sheds his shirt, and stands before her. He is a fit man, with defined abs, broad shoulders and strong arms. He has a certain look to his physique. Rather than a bodybuilder look, his muscles have purpose, not merely for show.

She compliments him, “wow, you must work out,” and he smiles, and even flexes a little, enjoying the flattery. He continues to undress, removing his belt and socks, then his pants. He flexes again, showing the definition in his shoulder and back, in his butt and his thighs. His tight undershorts frame his powerful behind, and she can see the outline of his half-hard dick through the material. She walks up to him, pressing her breasts to his strong chest. With a hand on the back of his neck, she pulls him down into a kiss. Her other hand seeks out his cock.

She strokes the sides, feeling a throb, a twitch, a swell. Victor does not break the kiss, but both of his hands search down her back, finding the zipper of her skirt. After lowering the zipper, he puts his hands under the material, grabbing her ass hard and pulling her to him. She moans slightly through the kiss, his hands are strong. She feels the signals inside, from her head and from her core, the change in intent from fun foreplay to an urgent desire to fuck.

She hooks her thumbs into the waist of her skirt and lowers it. They stand embracing, his hands firmly on her behind, pressing her to him, her hands exploring from his neck and shoulders down his back. He stands solidly, a rock that her softer body is pressed to as they become familiar with each other. She breaks the long kiss, moving her mouth to his neck, to his collarbone, to his chest, leaving a trail of smaller kisses, catching her breath. He smiles, feeling like he is conducting this orchestra, not realizing that he is the instrument, and that Taylor is the maestro.

She drops to her knees in front of him, and looks up, questioningly, waiting for the nod she knows is coming. As he nods, she pulls down his shorts, and his dick springs free, bouncing out before him, pointing right at her. He’s got a nice cock, maybe a little bit bigger than average, and he manscapes, which she appreciates. She holds his dick in her hand and looks up at him saying, “Oh, Vic, it’s so huge” as she rubs it along her cheek. She feels it twitch a bit, redden a bit more. He is a man who enjoys being flattered.

Taylor takes the head of his cock into her mouth, and sucks deeply while stroking him. She feels his hand on her hair, and hears him moan softly. After a few moments, she makes a ring of her hand at the base, above his balls, squeezing tightly, and bobs her head halfway down his shaft. Briefly blocking the flow and strongly sucking, she elicits a gasp from Victor, and hears him whisper “holy shit” as she continues to bob up and down.

She looks up at him, waits for eye contact. When he looks down, with just the head of his cock in her mouth, she releases her squeeze on the base of his dick, and sucks as hard as she can on the head. The blood rushes fast into his cock, she can feel the heat, the slight engorging of his head in her mouth. “What are you doing? That’s great!” he mutters. She feels his knees briefly wobble as they maintain eye contact, her mouth still around his throbbing member. “We have to lie down” he says, somewhat weakly.

As he lays on the bed, she rises from her knees and walks to him, slowly, across the floor. Her hips sway, her boobs bounce gently. Her eyes betray urgency, every movement of her body communicating sex and want. Reaching the edge of the mattress, she crawls up over him. She stops briefly, her tits alongside his erect cock, and she looks at him with longing. He looks down, and she holds there for a moment, letting the image sink in to his mind. She then continues to crawl, her nipples brushing the strong muscles of his torso then his chest. She reaches where she wants to be, eye to eye, chest to chest, the heat of his cock near the heat of her sex.

“Well, Victor, where do we go from here?” She has reeled in Victor all evening, from the first brush of her hand to his at the bar to the feeling of his warm cock in her mouth. But to complete her mission, he needs to work, to exhaust himself. She must surrender control to him, get his inner “man’s man” to come out and take over and fuck her. On her hands and knees, over him on his back like this, some men do the unexpected, and submit, and Taylor does not want that.

Victor looks up at “Anna,” looks deeply into her eyes, and smiles. He reaches up, and with his arm nudges her to the side, and onto her back. As he sits up, he says “oh, Anna, you’re going to love where we go from here.” His fingers trace a line down, between her breasts, across her firm belly, down to the narrow strip of hair above her pussy. He latches on to her nipple with his mouth as he brushes his fingertips from her clit down the crease of her lips. She moans, and arches her back slightly. The movement presses her nipple into his mouth, and urges his fingers to explore deeper.

He kisses down from her tits to her pussy, light brushes and pecks on her skin as he moves himself between her legs. Victor surprises her with the oral. She lifts her legs over his shoulders, eager for the unexpected treat, and feeling her inner heat begin to blaze. He finds and kisses the taut tendon of her inner thigh, lightly dragging his lips along the sensitive skin. He replaces his lips with gently massaging fingers on that thigh as he moves to the other side. Again, he plants kiss after urgent kiss along that raised ridge, slowly progressing down to her slick lips. Taylor realizes “This bastard is teasing me, dammit! He’s good.” Finally, as her anticipation crests, she feels his tongue run the length of her lips, gently parting them as it passes. She shudders as his tongue reaches her clit, pushing back her small hood, flicking his tongue across and around that wonderful spot.

She arches her back, another shudder, and at the peak of that tremble, she feels penetration, his fingers exploring her pussy as his tongue continues to pleasure her clit. She feels pressure building, and tries to relax, to ride the approaching wave. She feels him suck lightly on her button as his fingers hook upward inside, massaging that magical spot. She exhales hard as the wave of the little orgasm washes over her. She grabs hard at the back of his head, perhaps too hard, holding him to her as she thrashes. As the orgasm passes, she releases him. Still glowing, she says “Victor, fuck me!”

He needs no further encouragement, moving up and positioning himself above her. He’s a handsome man, she appreciates the view. He holds himself back, waiting, his hard dick brushing against her lips. She reaches a hand down between her legs and guides the tip of his cock to the crease in her lips. He slides into her with ease, her body is ready and needy, her pussy slick from his oral and her orgasm. She moans as he penetrates her, and she sees him smile. After a few short strokes, he thrusts fully into her. As he reaches a rhythm, Taylor begins to run her fingers along his strong arms, up to his shoulders. As she feels pressure begin to build within her, she lets her fingernails dig into his straining back, and she breathes a long moan of pleasure.

Victor picks up his pace, his urgency, he wants to make Taylor come, to show his prowess. Taylor brings her knees a bit higher, locking them above his hips. With the adjusted angle, Vic’s next thrust brushes her G-spot, and she sees little dots of light as she grunts an “unngh” sound. Each stroke grazes that place, each urgent thrust eliciting another pleasurable grunt. Taylor’s knees tighten around Victor’s waist, urging him deeper, harder … more. Her hands tightly clench his triceps as she leans her head back. A guttural moan escapes her lips as the powerful waves of the orgasm buffet her body. Every muscle clenches briefly, and a sheen of sweat appears on her brow, warm and pleasurable feelings pulsing out from her core to her fingers, and curling her toes.

Victor continues to thrust into her, his rhythm merging with the rhythms of her ebbing orgasm. She opens her eyes to see him smiling above her, a bit of sweat on his own forehead as he works. “That was fantastic baby, let’s do it again,” she purrs. He brings his knees under him and sits upright on his heels, disengaging from her with a filthy sexy sound. He wraps an arm around each of her thighs and pulls her toward him. As he pulls her close, he enters her. The angle is unusual, but effective.

As Victor pulls her to him for each thrust, she watches him appreciatively. His muscular shoulders flex, his biceps bulge, his forearms are solid under her thighs. He’s doing all the work, drawing her to him for each thrust. Before, he was barely grazing her G-Spot on each thrust, now he is methodically hitting it, again and again. Taylor feels each stroke, and feels the tension and the building need for release. Victor’s position is overstimulating her, like she should have already come, but he keeps adding to the fire. She is breathing heavily, short hard breaths matching his rhythm.

It’s too much, she moans out, “Fuuuuck, make me come, Victor, oh god, make me come.” He lifts her a bit higher, and instead of the deep strokes, only partially enters on each thrust. Jesus, that’s better, she thinks, as the last few strokes push her over the top. Her orgasms usually feel like waves, but this one is like falling off a cliff. The warmth, the glow, jets out from a place deep inside, a place Victor has stoked and fed. The heat passes through her, and she clenches her legs around Victor and howls “oooooooooh, god, god, god, unnhhh.” After intense moments, the high cliff fall evolves into waves, then into ripples, her body trembling in orgasm. She opens her eyes and sees Victor’s face grimace, feels his grip on her thighs tighten, feels the heat of him, spurting and twitching inside her.

They hold for a moment. Frozen, paralyzed by their orgasms, enjoying those last few sensations. Neither wants it to end, but it does, with smiles and sweat and heavy breathing. Victor leans back, and swings Taylor’s leg over so he can lay beside her. He’s still breathing heavily, that position was pleasurable for them both, but took a lot of effort. She feels a kiss on her neck.

“Victor, that was amazing. You’re a great fuck. My legs are still shaking.” She follows that up with a kiss on his cheek, he’s still huffing a bit.

“Anna, the stuff you did earlier, that blowjob, that was amazing. I just wanted to show you a great time. So you liked it?” He needs more affirmation, the screams and shaking weren’t enough.

“Liked it? You couldn’t tell? You know what you’re doing.” She turns, and pulls up a sheet over them. Then she reaches back, urging him to spoon her, to take that classic protective pose. He does, and puts a hand on her hip, still breathing hard on her neck, but relaxed.

Taylor basks in the glow of her orgasms, playing it all again in her head, particularly that position at the end. The oral from Vic was a pleasant surprise, but this guy breaking out an odd and amazing sexual position was remarkable. Minutes pass, she hears Vic sigh happily a few times. Eventually, his breathing becomes regular, he’s out.

She waits, and moves his hand from her hip. She rolls over, off the arm he had under her head, and then she lies still, letting him settle again. It’s slow, a process, but soon she is off the bed, and Vic remains asleep. She stands, and dresses.

She goes out to the living area, to a table with Victor’s laptop. After a few minutes on the machine, Taylor has what she needs. She looks to the bedroom, seeing Vic’s spent athletic body on his big bed. As she leaves, she regrets that she won’t get the chance to fuck him again.

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4 months ago
Oye es hermosisima! Me encantaría que me ayudaras también comentando mis post.
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