Realtor Revenge Pt. 02

"Please no. You're hurting me. Please stop."

Green gave her one final smack and then dumped her on the couch with her tiny tits pointing upwards.

After one final slap on the ass, Flanagan sat me up on the couch and was unbuttoning my blouse while I watched to see what Green would do next.

After a moment's rest from the exertion of paddling the young girl, Green pulled Sticki's panties completely off and stuffed them into her mouth.

"You spit those out and I'll really give you something to complain about," Green threatened.

"What's it going to be?" Flanagan asked. "You eat your undies or make a phone call?"

Green was in the process of removing his pants when he heard the chirping cricket sound of me calling Sticki's phone.

"What the hell is that?" he asked.

"Ih muy fuun," Sticki mumbled through her panties.

"Take the damn things out and talk to me."

"Ignore it," Sticki said with her panties temporarily in her hand. "It's just my phone. If it's important they'll leave a message."

She put the saliva-soaked panties back in her mouth while Green pulled a reasonably stiff cock out of his boxers.

Flanagan looked at me and shrugged. "I guess she's not ready yet."

"Or maybe she forgot what the phone call means," I countered.

"Possibly. Call her again."

Which I did... just as Green had his cock poised an inch above Sticki's cleanly shaven pussy.

"Shit," Green said. "Can't you do something about that?"

"Uh sinc ut," Sticki answered.

Green pulled the panties back out of Sticki's mouth so she could say...

"Let me up and I'll silence it."

This was where I thought it would end. We had more than enough material to convince Green to see things our way and Sticki hadn't completely compromised herself to the full extent. Which is a nice way to say, he hadn't fucked her yet. But, instead of making some excuse to leave or escaping through the door, she went over to her purse, silenced her phone and returned to the couch.

Sticki took the wet panties from Green's hand and threw them across the room. Then she grabbed his cock and stroked it to a rigid state of readiness. Once Green looked like he was going to explode, Sticki assumed the 'take me' position... on her back, knees scrunched up against her chest, pussy exposed for easy access.

"Stick that monster in me," she said. "And when you're done... stick it in again."

During the next hour, Sticki did Green on the couch, desk, floor, easy chair and against the wall. She apparently didn't have an off switch. The girl was either a closet nymphomaniac or she really wanted the Dorothy role. The more sex she got, the more she wanted, and Green was doing his best to keep up.

Luckily, Flanagan didn't expect me to keep up with what was going on upstairs. While Sticki and Green explored several chapters of the Kama Sutra, Flanagan was more than satisfied to watch the show from the couch with his hands on my tits and his cock buried deep in my surprisingly slippery slit.

I don't know if it was the non-stop live porn on the TV, the slow fucking from Flanagan or the anticipation of what I would be able to do with the video we were recording. Maybe it was a combination of all three. Regardless, that night's orgasm was almost as satisfying as what I experienced with Mark Seiman a few days earlier.

Despite the Viagra we saw him take just before Sticki arrived, Green finally ran out of steam. Good thing. I was afraid he was one more blow job from a heart attack and I needed him alive to make my plan work.

Making up a lame excuse about an early business meeting the next morning, Green loaned Sticki a shirt and kicked her out of his private domain just after 10:30. Sticki met us in a parking lot down the street from the theatre, where we continued to watch Green on our smart phones.

Green gathered up Sticki's clothes, inhaled the scent of her undies, and placed them in a shopping bag. Then he removed the sim card from his camera and put it in an envelope which he taped to the back of a picture of him hugging a young girl in a harem outfit which was hanging on the wall over his desk.

Green spent another ten minutes tidying up and then left the apartment. From our vantage point, we could see him exit the theatre, lock the door, and get into his car. We all ducked down in our seats as his Mercedes drove past us. Five minutes later, after Flanagan picked the stage door lock and disabled the alarm, we revisited the scene of the crime.

While Flanagan retrieved his cameras, Sticki and I searched the apartment.

"Take all the videos you can find," I told my apprentice. "Make sure we get the one of you. I don't want Green to have an unedited version of what happened tonight. We don't want to give him an alibi."

By noon the next day, Flanagan gave me the original video recordings of all four cameras... my three and Green's... plus an edited version of the last night's audition which combined footage from all angles. Not once did he suggest we send them to the district attorney.

The final cut was exactly what I needed. A close up of Sticki's innocent face when Green coaxed her into the apartment. An action shot of Green forcibly removing her clothes. Several scenes of Sticki screaming "NO" as he rammed his middle-aged dick into every one of her apparently underaged holes. And most importantly, a very short conversation between Green and Sticki:

"... how old are you?"

"I'll be sixteen next month."

I owned Councilman Green.

***

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Aaroneous