Pretty Woman

It all happened pretty naturally, really. I was an attractive, confident female graduate of the academy, one of just six women out of a class of 40, and the only one of those six who could convincingly pull off posing as a hooker. No offense to the other women - let's just say it was obvious that many of them played for the other team. Anyway, I was quickly selected to join the vice squad, and given the task of putting on a different disguise each shift and walking the streets as a decoy to pull in johns.

At first, I was all business, just seeing it as a chance to prove my professionalism and work towards a promotion, so I could be doing the work I was really passionate about. My goal was to work my way up to the rank of detective, so I could work on really important cases, getting bank robbers and murderers off the streets. If my perfect body and my willingness to pose as a member of the oldest profession was my ticket to get there, so be it.

I should probably take a moment to share a bit more detail about what my work entailed. I was never actually at risk of following through on the act in question with the guys who picked me up. My job was to look the part, walk the street, reel the guys in, and then signal my backup as soon as the john had offered me money for sex.

I showed up to work late each afternoon, dressed in whatever jeans and t-shirt I had thrown on at home, and selected an appropriate wardrobe from the strange assortment of slutty outfits we'd put together at the station. Some days it would be red leather, some days black, sometimes I'd go with the red wig, other times blonde. The key was that I look as inviting as possible, while disguising my actual identity.

Beyond the clothes, wigs, and makeup, though, it didn't take much for me to look the part. At 22, I was in perfect shape - well-proportioned at 5'7" and 120 pounds, nice perky tits, long legs, and a great ass - so my boyfriend always told me, anyway. I had lived a fairly straight-laced life up to this point, so I have to admit I was a little shocked each time I looked in the mirror when I was dressed for the street.

The first few times I went out, I was a little scared, but any feelings of worry quickly wore off as I got used to the routine of signalling for the arrest. Strange as it may sound, it actually got a little dull, as I never did more than just hop in a stranger's car, talk for a few seconds, and then get back out once the backup car's siren went off.

The most enjoyable part of the task for me was choosing the slutty outfit and strutting up and down the street corner, as it was a unique experience for me to act in a such a blatantly sexual way. In fact, before long, this part of the job started to turn me on. Even though it was all an act, and I was being paid to catch these poor suckers, rather than to fuck them, I couldn't help enjoying all the attention as they drove by, honking and hollering at my hot body.

And soon, I found myself quite frustrated, shocked at the realization that at least a small, dirty part of me wanted to follow through on one of these transactions. It was when I started fantasizing about it, imagining a stranger paying me for sex as my boyfriend fucked me to orgasm, that I realized I owed it to myself to live out this fantasy, at least once.

Knowing everyone in vice in this town, I knew I'd need to go elsewhere - the risk of being caught by a colleague was just too great. I quickly decided on Vegas, figuring I could make a quick trip some weekend when my boyfriend was going out of town for business, and catching a little of the 'what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas' action without anyone finding out.

Three weeks after I'd made this decision, the opportunity finally presented itself. In the meantime, I'd made a trip to one of the local adult shops, picking out my outfit for the trip - a black leather bustier and mini skirt, matching knee-high boots, and crotchless fishnet tights. I was so turned on by shopping for the clothes that I fingered myself to a breathless orgasm in the dressing room as I tried them on.

I packed my bag, which contained little more than that outfit and a fresh supply of condoms, and hopped the quick flight, checking into the hotel I'd chosen near a likely street corner. I'd done my research in advance, thinking the safest bet would be to target a convention crowd - straight-laced guys interested in a fun time away from the wife or girlfriend - rather than a seedier part of town where I might risk running into a psycho.

I hung out in my hotel room for a few hours, waiting for dusk to arrive, but also gathering up my courage. As excited as I'd been about this scenario for the past several weeks, I was suddenly nervous once it was actually within sight. I showered, played with my long brown hair for a while before finally settling on two youthful pigtails, and then slipped into my skin-tight leather outfit.

I was only on the street for a few minutes before the first car pulled over, and I chickened out, pretending to ignore the driver's advances as if I dressed like this every night and was on my way somewhere. A few more cars slowed as they passed me, and finally I took a deep breath and decided to respond to the next guy who pulled over.

It was a silver sedan, a rental car, I noticed, thinking that to be a good sign, clearly someone in town for business. The driver pulled around the corner to a side street before stopping, so that I had to walk several steps to catch up with him before leaning down to look at him through the passenger window he'd opened. I was pleased with what I saw, a handsome and well-dressed man of about 40 with a kind face. This was my chance, no backing out now.

"Hey, honey, looking for a good time?"

"Sure, baby," the stranger replied to my breasts, "why don't you come in out of the cold."

"Just one thing before I get in," I said coyly, "you're not a cop, are you?"

"Nope, just a regular guy in town for a conference, looking for a little fun after a boring day of meetings! What about you," he said with a chuckle, "you're not undercover, are you?"

I felt myself blush, but quickly pulled myself together and got into the car next to him. I couldn't believe the rush, the dialogue no longer just a script I'd been trained to follow.

"Are you kidding, with a body like this?" I spread my legs in the seat next to him, and his eyes followed my hands as they traced their way up my thighs. I was pretending to do my hooker act, but in fact I was so turned on that I couldn't keep my hands off myself.

"So, what's your name?" I asked him.

"Richard, what's yours?"

"You can call me Danielle," I replied, surprised at myself but even more turned on after giving him my real name. "So, what would you like?"

"What do you do?"

"Anything you can afford."

He leaned over and whispered a naughty scenario in my ear, and I blushed once again.

"Hmm, no problem, if you've got 200 bucks. I assume your hotel is nearby?"

He responded by sitting back behind the wheel and making a quick turn at the next intersection, going around the block, just as I'd feared, to pull into the garage of the same hotel where I was staying. Oh well, it would make for an easy return "home" once my job was complete! Just before we entered the parking garage, I heard the familiar "whoop" of a police siren, and had to grit my teeth to keep from jumping out of my skin. A quick glance in the side mirror confirmed that it was a speeding motorist, not a naughty out-of-town vice cop, that they were after. Whew.

As soon as we were in his room, he pulled two crisp hundreds out of his wallet and put them on the table by the door. I could have jumped him right then, excited as I was at the naughty prospect of being paid for sex, but reminded myself that I had been hired for a job, and he'd been quite specific about his desires.

I went to the wardrobe and pulled out the silk ties he'd told me would be there, as he quickly stripped naked. He laid down on the bed, and I climbed on top of him, slowly tying each of his hands to the headboard.

Once his hands were tied, I stood back up and began a slow, sexy strip, peeling out of the tight, hot leather, but leaving on the boots and fishnets, just as he'd instructed. I watched his cock harden as he watched me, and felt the juices already flowing from my pussy. I couldn't wait any longer, and climbed onto the bed, taking his cock first into my hands and then into my mouth.

He moaned in pleasure as I slowly engulfed his length, and then began bobbing up and down on him as my fingers tickled his balls. I was just able to manage his length and girth, taking him completely into my throat with each stroke. I sucked him off for a few more minutes, before he pushed me away, wanting to move on to his next desire before he shot his load.

I stood up on the bed, giving him a great view up my long, sexy legs to my wet pussy. Unzipping one of my boots just a bit, I fished out one of the condoms I had packed for my trip. Kneeling back down above him, ripped the package open with my teeth and stroked his cock as I slid the condom on.

With his cock jutting upward from his body and his hands still tied, I began touching myself as he had instructed, while he watched, helpless to do anything but watch the excitement build. I began by playing with my tits, fondling them in my hands and pressing each nipple upwards to meet my outstretched tongue.

Soon, I couldn't help but let my hands fall to my pussy. Two fingers explored my clit while three fingers of the other hand easily slid deep into my wet hole. I kept my eyes fixed on his as I began to furiously finger-fuck myself, approaching orgasm so quickly that I could hardly believe it. The room was soon filled with the smell of my juices as my fingers slid in and out, and I cried out in pleasure.

Before he had a chance to complain about being left out, I pulled my hands away and pressed down onto his waiting cock. The feeling of fullness was fabulous, and I began riding him fast and hard. As I fucked him, I reached up and untied his hands. As soon as he was free, he rolled us over and began fucking me from behind, doggy style.

He asked me to talk dirty, and I easily obliged, feeling quite dirty.

"Yes, that's it, fuck me like the whore I am, ride my tight pussy! You know I want it, so give it to me!"

"Yes, that's it, yes!" He moaned as he pounded into me, letting his weight fall into mine so that his torso pressed against my back. "More, give me more!"

"I'm about to cum, if that cock of yours just keeps pounding into me, I'm going to cum, I want to cover your cock with my slutty juices!"

"Oh, god, yes! Unghhh...."

He collapsed to the bed next to me, just as my pleasure was still flowing. I couldn't believe the power of my orgasm, and fingered my clit as I rode it out, my pussy literally dripping with my cum. He peeled off the condom and stroked his cock gently as he watched me, clearly enjoying the show.

Satisfied as I was, I had to remind myself that I was pretending to be a professional. This wasn't a date where we'd stay and cuddle. He was expecting me to collect my cash and leave, and I had a hotel room of my own to get back to - just a few floors away. I said my goodbyes, grabbed my clothes and my cash, and rode the elevator back to my room. The story didn't actually end there - let's just say, I took a long, long hot shower, pleasuring myself as I remembered the events of the evening.