Sofia remembered that she had a meeting with an FBI agent later that day (Danny? David? What was his name?), so with a couple of hours to kill, she decided to prepare for him.
After sharing a long, steamy shower with one of her maids, a cute redhaired bimbo named Sarah, she decided to kill the agent with kindness (so to speak). After going through various outfit decisions, she decided on a skintight pair of black leather pants that made the lower half of her body look like it had been dipped in paint; every curve and fold was visible. Sofia just looooooved the way the leather felt against her bare cunt when she walked in these pants.
Above the waist, she chose a bikini top that consisted of merely two triangles over her hard nipples, with a thin string barely holding it all together. With a pair of black platform heels, and the burgundy lipstick she chose, she couldn't help but admire her reflection; she was like a wild animal on the prowl. If cloning had been possible, she would've created a duplicate of herself to fuck the hell out of on a daily basis.
Finally, one of Sofia's assistants showed up at her room.
"Miss Montana, Agent Bishop has just arrived to speak with you."
"Thanks, Gwen. Show him to the living room, and offer him a drink."
"Yes, miss."
Sofia spent a couple of minutes feeling up the basketballs on her chest, making sure the nipples were extra-hard. As she headed downstairs, she felt her pussy start to cream at the thoughts of what she could do to this so-called 'gentleman.'
Entering the room, she saw Agent Danny Bishop sitting on the couch, enjoying a scotch-and-soda. He appeared to barely be over 30, probably at about 5'9", with short reddish-brown hair and blue eyes, wearing a simple dark gray suit.
"Agent Bishop, I presume?"
"Well, I ain't Dr. Livingstone," he replied with a smirk. He briefly flashed his badge at her. "I'm here to discuss a business transaction with you, ma'am; so I'll be brief."
"I'm listening, sir."
"You may or may not know about the deal myself and two other agents had with Harold Anton a while back."
"Anton, the owner of that cab company? Didn't he die in some fucking car crash?"
Danny took a sip of his drink. "You know your current events; nice. Anyway, what some people don't know was that he had been involved in some 'delivery services', if you take my meaning. He struck a deal with my friends and I; we'd each get 300 bucks a week, and we'd turn a blind eye to his activities. If he got caught on his own, that was his problem; but we wouldn't hassle him. You dig?"
"Yeah, I got you, asshole. In exchange for a weekly 'bonus', you'll stay the fuck away from me and my associates?" At this point, Sofia had taken out a bottle of vodka and a shot glass, and walked to sit in front of the glass table near the couch.
"Nice to know you're educated, ma'am. I'm leavin' it up to you; we can work out what sort of payments there'll be, if that will help any."
"Certainly, we can figure something out, Agent Bishop. There's a little problem, though." Sofia started to lean forward, so just her tits were resting on the glass; she loved the way it felt. Dropping her voice to a breathy, Marilyn Monroe/innocent little girl-style tone, she remarked, "Money's been kinda tight for a while."
Agent Bishop couldn't respond at first; he was staring directly at Sofia's cleavage, entranced. |