Lapdancing Girlfriend Ch. 05

Jen had been true to Dan for almost six years since they had gotten back together after he graduated from college, yet in the last week she had let three different men fuck her, given oral sex to three, had at least four men finger her to orgasm, and stripped completely nude in front of who knew how many men. After all that happened, the last seemed pale in comparison, although at the time she had thought it the worst thing she could have done.

Much of her flustered thoughts were due to the dichotomy caused by her mind being repulsed at what she had done and may end up doing, and her body's response. She would never have thought she would have sex with anybody except Dan, her being faithful something she wholeheartedly believed in with both mind and body all these years. Yet the circumstances of her contract and Mr. DeWight's involvement, along with everything transpiring the past week, was a complete betrayal to her and Dan. At the time, her reasoning had accepted having sex with Agent Geiger, and even Agent Vogel. Her mind had been resigned to allowing it to happen due to her circumstances, but now, after the fact, she was remorseful.

The physical act she could have convinced herself to be excusable—what woman had not faked an orgasm sometime in her life? Unfortunately it was not the case here—what bothered her was how her body had responded, enjoying the sex, the feel of a strange man taking her overcoming her inhibitions, her body eagerly accepting, and in fact craving for more.

It was the response from her body she feared the most. She could reconcile WHY she had sex with these other men, or even WHY she would probably have sex with others due to her contract and being 'undercover' for the FBI. These circumstances were uncontrollable, forced into the situations by her contract. It was upsetting to be forced to do something against her will and have it be legal, but not as upsetting as how she had given into the sensations, responding eagerly.

She had told the FBI agents their concerns about her shirking her duty was not an issue, and had had given them proof by fucking two of them—there would be no problem convincing anybody else she was accepting her role as a porn actress, but it was not acting, as her own body would betray her!

The repetitive stopping and starting of the limo let her know they had reached the airport, also breaking her reverie as she looked out from the heavily tinted windows. Tim's voice came over an intercom telling her he was dropping her off at the Departures entrance as he had to park the car, and Jen was again reminded he would also be flying to Los Angeles with her.

She hoped he would not be sitting near her, but the way her luck was running she was not going to hold her breath, especially if the tickets had been purchased at the same time.

Jen was startled when the limo door suddenly opened as the limo stopped yet again, a nice elderly black man in uniform helping her out of the car. She could not help but notice his wide eyes as he got a look at her, understanding she was dressed more for a night out at a club than a plane trip. She was also pretty certain he got a good view of her hard nipples sticking out through the fabric from the chilled car.

Looking around, she noticed several other people also looking at her. For a moment she thought it was simply natural curiosity to see who may be getting out of a limo at the airport, and that may have been the case at first; however, she noticed most of the women turn away after a brief glance while the men blatantly looked at her. Their attention made her uneasy, knowing her outfit revealed half her body to the world.

Once again Jen's body betrayed her, a thrill running through her at the attention she was receiving, her breasts tightening and a warm pleasant feeling deep within her stomach.

Glancing at the time she saw it was 8:45 A.M.—there being plenty of time to go through Security and get to the gate as she entered the airport.

Jen was a little apprehensive, not having flown for quite some time, and long before 9/11. In fact she had only been a little girl, but Tim had instructed her to follow the signs before driving off in the limo, so she was soon standing in line for the security check. Once again she became conscious of the stares from other men—some hesitant, others flagrant. She tried to occupy her mind by reading the fine print on her ticket, but instead noted how her nipples were conspicuously protruding through the material of her outfit, feeling a heated blush rush across her skin.

Obviously she was embarrassed dressed so scantily in public and outside of the environment of the club; however, there was another feeling causing her skin to heat up, as she felt the betraying thrill of excitement in response to being dressed so scantily in public. It was the same sensation she felt when dancing at the club. In fact, it was one of the reasons Jen became a stripper, as a part of her was an admitted exhibitionist.

As the line slowly moved forward she noticed an older teen openly looking at her. The line zigzagged back and forth and Jen kept passing him, feeling nervous at his intense gaze. The third time he came along side of her he had apparently gathered enough nerve to talk to her, asking if she were a model or actress.

Flattered, Jen smiled telling him no, she was probably nobody he had seen before.

"I swear I've seen your face before," he told her as she smiled and shook her head at his error.

The line took them apart again as the teen began typing on his phone. As they were coming around for a fourth time she saw the teen raising his phone towards her, obviously taking a picture of her. Flattered, Jen smiled at him, actually complimented at him wanting a picture to show off to his friends. She could imagine the caption, 'hot babe I saw at the airport' as they got closer.

Standing side-by-side once again, she heard a beep off of the teen's phone, his head bowed as he read his text message. Suddenly his eyes opened wide and his face turned red as he stared at her.

Once again Jen felt flattered, the boy probably catching sight of her prominent nipples in his picture as they continuously attempted to poke out of her dress.

Then her mind went into shock as he said, "You're Diamond, the new DSA girl!"

Immediately Jen's face went from red in embarrassment to white in shock as she looked around, seeing several men turn towards her, now with even more interest and scrutiny.

At first she tried to deny it telling him, "I'm sure you're mistaking me for somebody else," she said, but the boy continued.

"No, it's definitely you, look!" he said, holding up his phone. Jen felt as if she were two inches tall as she saw a close-up of her face looking out from the screen, her mouth around what she knew to be Tim's cock.

Jen saw the man behind the teen also looking at the camera, then at her, his mouth breaking into a big smile as he too realized who she was.

Her embarrassment and weak denial was interrupted as the teen said, "Can I have your autograph, or better yet, can I get a picture with you?" he asked.

Jen was still in shock, not knowing what to do as she numbly nodded, watching as the boy ducked under the rope in line, handing his phone to the guy behind him as his arm went around her bare waist.

"Wait until the guys see this!" he said as the sound of the phone camera clicked. "Take a couple more," he told the guy as he leaned into her, his head against her breasts.

Jen could only stand there in shock at the teen recognizing her. She saw several more guys taking pictures of her with their phones while the teen moved back into his place in line.

Jen was dumfounded when the line moved steadily forward and she was handed several pieces of paper, even other plane tickets, as people asked her to autograph them. The first one she got she almost signed 'Jennifer Simmons' until she caught herself, at the last minute changing the 'J' to a large 'D' and signing 'Diamond.'

Her embarrassment at being recognized for being in a porn video soon faded as she became amazed at the compliments she received—even by women—telling her how beautiful she was and how much they loved her acting.

'Acting,' she thought to herself, as if sucking another man's cock or dancing in a club was acting.

And yet people asked for her autograph, others asking to take pictures with her. Jen could not believe how many people knew of her, several undoubtedly having seen her videos on the DSA website based on their comments. Others, recognizing what being a DSA Spokesmodel meant and regardless of their stand on pornography, nonetheless wanted pictures or autographs with a 'celebrity.'

Jen's emotions switched from embarrassment to flattery, her 'stripper persona' coming out as she began flirting with some of the men, as well as a few women. It was an altogether new experience for her to be popular outside the club as she wondered if this would be an isolated incident.

Soon she reached the x-ray system, putting her carry-on bag on the conveyer belt. When she bent down to take off her heels she heard several whistles from behind her and grinned, actually enjoying the attention.

With a slight blush, she entered the scanner.

Immediately the buzzing of the scanner went off and Jen looked at the man in the blue shirt with a badge in front of her as he told her to back up and enter again.

Once again the buzzer went off, Jen noticing a red light flashing over the machine as the male TSA agent motioned her over to him by the conveyor belt where her carry-on baggage sat.

"Are you holding any guns, knives, phones, or other metal objects?" he asked her.

Jen looked down and raised her hands slightly, sticking her breasts out in frustration, "Do I LOOK like I can hide anything on me?" she asked, to the snickers of a few people behind her.

She heard somebody in line behind her call out, "Maybe she's smuggling a vibrator on board," followed by several laughs as she blushed.

The TSA agent looked at her up and down before motioning her to move towards the end of the conveyor belt. Gathering her carry-on and shoes he told her, "Please follow me ma'am."

Barefooted, Jen followed the man to and area off to the side of the security checking area where she was guided into a small drape-enclosed cube.

"A female agent will be with you shortly," the TSA agent told her.

"Have I done something wrong?" she asked.

The man looked back at her, his roving eyes causing Jen's body to flush in response as he replied, "No ma'am, standard procedure for a pat-down when the alarm goes off," he told her. "A female agent will be with you shortly," he told her once again, leaving her alone in the small cloth-enclosed area.

Jen stood in the small area feeling silly. There were no chairs or tables, simply four 'walls' composed of drapes, the sounds of the airport coming easily to her ears. She assumed there were other draped rooms around her, as she could discern faint shadows of others next to her.

She pulled out her phone, seeing it was 9:25 A.M. as she began to get anxious. Her flight left at ten o'clock, and boarding began in five minutes. In her nervousness she began to pace, worried about missing the flight.

As the minutes ticked by she became more and more concerned. Finally after ten minutes had passed she pulled apart the draped door, motioning to the same male TSA agent who had escorted her here.

"Excuse me," she said, getting his attention. "Did somebody forget about me? I need to catch my flight," she told him.

The man apologized, stating they were shorthanded and a female agent would be coming by soon. Pulling out his radio, he made a call and she heard a deep voice reply loudly over the speaker, "Roger two-five-one, ETA female agent fifteen minutes."

"Fifteen minutes!" Jen exclaimed, "My flight leaves at ten, can't you do this?" she asked impatiently.

The male agent's eyes dropped down to her body as he answered, "I'm sorry ma'am," he told her. "Policy dictates a female agent is required to pat down female passengers," he told her. "Unless of course you wish to fill out a waiver," he added seeing Jen's frustration.

Jen said she would sign anything if it would get her through security, so the man reached into his pocket and pulled out a printed index card and a pen. In her rush, she did not even bother reading the paper—a brief flashback of déjà vu hitting her signing her contract the week before, and what it had cost her—but she was in a hurry and quickly signed it, handing the card back to the agent.

Expecting the agent to immediately follow her into the room, she walked back towards it; however, the agent still stood outside.

Seeing him pause, she asked if something was wrong.

"No ma'am, I still cannot enter the room alone with a woman without another agent present," he told her smiling as he now openly looked at her body.

Jen sighed in exasperation, about to tell him he had entered earlier with her when she saw a tall muscular black man also in a TSA uniform coming towards them. As the man got closer Jen stared up in awe, as he kept getting larger and larger—he must have been close to 7 feet tall she realized, as he greeted the other TSA agent.

"This is Marcus, my supervisor," the first agent told her. "He will be witnessing the pat down, assisting if necessary," he told her, holding open the drape for her to step back into the enclosed area.

Jen wondered what type of 'assistance' was needed to check for explosives and guns when she heard the black man ask, "You have the waiver?" in a deep baritone voice, recognizing the voice from the radio earlier. She glanced back and saw the smaller white man hand the index card to him.

The large black man stepped in front of her and smiled, causing her heart to flutter. He physically overwhelmed her, being well-built, tall and muscular, towering over her and making Jen feel like a child standing in front of him. Not only did his size intimidate her, but also the way he looked at her, causing her to catch her breath; the man regarded her like as if he was looking at a good steak dinner rather than another human being.

Jen felt her body flush as he smiled down at her, the bright whiteness of his teeth in sharp contrast to his dark skin. "First, Mike here is going to check your hair for any dangerous objects," he told her as the small white man moved behind her.

She felt her hair being patted as the smaller white man moved to her pony tail, then his grip wrapped around her skull as he felt her entire head. He paused briefly at her hairclip and Jen wondered if it was the reason the x-ray machine went off as he stepped aside.

Immediately the black man moved behind her, his presence towering over Jen as he said to her in his deep baritone, "I need to check as well, as Mike is still in training. If he misses something that ends up causing an incident, it's both our careers," the large man explained behind her.

Once again Jen felt hands going through her hair. The large man's touch was gentler than the other agent, his hands almost caressing her hair and head as he completed his search and moved back in front of her.

Noticing the time on the large man's watch as he moved away, Jen saw it was now nine-forty as she became even more anxious. "Can we please hurry up, my plane leaves at ten!" she said impatiently.

"Of course ma'am," the large black man smiled down at her. "We need a couple minutes to search your person for weapons and other illegal items, Mike?" he said to the small white man, who stepped up to Jen.

"Ma'am, please put your hands behind your head like this," he told her, demonstrating to her the position he wanted. "Good," he told her when she complied. "Now, please spread your legs slightly," he instructed her as he crouched down in front of her, asking her to spread her feet a bit wider as she complied.

Jen became worried the man would see she was not wearing any underwear, then gasped as she felt his cool hands wrap around her right ankle, his hand sliding up her calf to her knee, then reaching around and palming the back of her knee.

"Do you really need to feel anything than through my clothes?" she asked, trying to push away the sensual feelings of the stranger's hands on her skin, practically feeling her up.

It was the large dark man who replied. "Ma'am, you would be surprised how some people have hidden things beneath their skin, or even in their body. Drugs, explosives—we once had somebody slide a knife under the skin of their arm. People are perverted these days, and terrorists have given us plenty of reason to be thorough," he explained.

At this point Jen only wanted to get to her plane as she muttered an exasperated, "Fine," as the man continued his 'pat-down,' his hands moving up her lower thigh.

As Jen stood there with her fingers clasped behind her head, the smaller agent running his hands across her skin, she turned her focus in front of her, noticing the black man holding up a phone!

"Are you recording this?" she asked in surprise as he smiled back at her.

"Standard procedure ma'am," he told her. "It avoids a civil lawsuit if you claim we were overly aggressive with our search," he said. "The waiver only covers so much liability," he said in way of explanation.

The man kneeling before her then slid both his hands around the back of her thigh, his touch almost sensual as he wrapped them around her leg, slowly moving higher. Reaching the hem of her skirt, the man's hands kept rising, his palms sliding against her skin as his fingers wrapped around her, disappearing beneath her skirt!

Jen closed her eyes in embarrassment as the man's left hand moved up her hip beneath her skirt, the bare flesh of his hand was warm against her, his touch almost caressing her skin instead of clinically trying to feel any foreign objects beneath her skin. She knew immediately he would perceive her not wearing any panties when her eyes suddenly flew open in shock as his hand moved up her inner thigh, his thumb or finger briefly brushing against her bare, shaved crotch before quickly moving away and grasping her other leg, his hands now around her ankle.

Jen stared down at the man who did not even look up at her as he felt up her other leg. She wondered if his touch had been accidental, as it had happened so fast. And the man had not responded, so it must have been a mistake she thought, as the agent's hands moved up her tanned leg.

She took a shuddered inhale as the agent's soft touch once again slid past her knee, moving up her thigh and sliding beneath her skirt.

This time there was no doubt in Jen's mind his touch not an accident, as his finger slid across her bare slit. She sucked in another breath and almost said something, but then her attention was focused on the other agent, who was staring at her intently with the phone camera held in front of him. His intense gaze upon her made her once again feel like she was a buffet and he was deciding which piece of her to eat as her mind went blank.

She ignored the other agent, who had already stood up. It had been such a fleeting touch she realized, so decided to simply get through with the pat down and get on her plane, not wanting to delay any longer with a complaint. Let him have his cheap thrill at her expense, the worry of missing her plane making her more anxious.

That was before the smaller white man stepped back and the larger black agent handed him his phone.

Jen realized she had to stand through the ordeal yet again, the supervisor needing to make sure nothing was hidden between her legs!

Jen's heart was racing, a combination of panic from being late to the plane as well as arousal at being alone with two men feeling her up.

The thought of missing her plane again came to her mind as she resigned herself to not creating a fuss. Her primary goal was to her gate as quick as possible.