To double cross a double cross?

This is a short story about a politician trying to get a reporter to stop a story by any means. Whilst there is reluctance, what is offered is freely given.

A special thanks to RF-Fast for helping to proofread and ensuring the story is in good shape.

To double cross a double cross?

"You can't do this." The young woman demanded, and I sat back and felt amusement.

Jessica Rachel Honeycutt, 27, was married shortly after she left university. Studied politics and passed with OK grades, but made a run for a political post when she was 22 and shocked everyone when she was elected.

I might have inadvertently helped, as I'd published a story about her opponent that she'd leapt upon to her advantage. She came from a conservative family who were wealthy, but not rich. Certainly not rich enough to explain her meteoric rise.

Her husband's family was connected to businesses with dubious practices, which her political influence could help or protect. Four election wins in five years, perfectly timed for her to progress to a higher office each time

As a wordsmith, I could appreciate the skill of the speeches she read, even if I disagreed with the content. But they weren't her words. You knew that after seeing her in an unscripted interview. When she hit on the first question she struggled with, it would cause her to launch into a rant over the biases of the press.

No, she must have had powerful backers, and I was desperate to find out who.

Returning to the moment, I replied to her objection.

"I already have. Just because I've not published yet..."

"But it will ruin my career."

"So? It will advance mine." I replied, and enjoyed the look of venom on her face.

She jumped up and for a moment I thought she'd slap me, and I was disappointed she didn't. Not that I would have enjoyed the pain, but my office was wired with microphones and hidden cameras. It wasn't surprising given how many people came to see me in person, after I hinted about my upcoming stories. They'd come to stop me and often reveal even more without meaning to do so. It didn't always work, but it was worth it, just in case.

Ms Honeycutt was a young and upcoming political hot potato. Someone big had found a pretty young graduate with a cut throat attitude and no morals, then backed her career. So far, I've not found out who, but I'd get there, eventually. Especially if I published a story that could wreck her further political aspirations. In that case, I could feel the vibrations in my web of information to see what had turned up.

I'd no interest one way or another if I fucked her over or not. I was interested in bigger fish.

She paused with her back to me, and I saw her hand in her purse from the many reflections in the room. I saw her fiddle with her phone, then turned back.

"But all the people I've helped?"

"I showed you the figures. By my maths, the votes you've cast have cost each of your constituents hundreds or thousands each. Ironically, at the same time while earning your contributors millions. That's why it's a good story."

She glared at me and made an overly dramatic feint at crying. Turning away, she took a handkerchief from her purse and dabbed her eyes to cover her, placing her phone on a shelf. I was pretty sure she was recording this, and I turned to one camera and shook my head.

I was fairly sure even this was stage managed by someone. Her outfit was subtle, but easy to spot if you were looking for it. She wore black patent leather high heels. They were a little taller than her usual public persona. Her hair and makeup were a little overdone, and the grey button up dress was a nice touch. Knee-length, but figure hugging. The neckline emphasised a bust she didn't have, but drew your eyes to it. It wasn't overtly sexual, but hinted that way.

This wasn't a new ploy, and was one of the reasons I'd bugged my office. If Kimberley was so proficient at setting her phone like that, I prayed I'd get the chance to listen to what she'd recorded. Who knew who else she'd recorded?

She looked at me harder.

"So, what's it going to take?"

"Sorry?"

"You heard me. But I doubt money is of much interest to you." She looked around the room and projected pity at the paucity of my office furniture.

I'd have laughed that she was so naïve in such matters. Tycoons sold their wealth with opulence. Others sold themselves as down to earth by going the other way. If I wanted to, at 50, I could retire tomorrow to any sunny beach and live out my years with umbrella cocktails and pretty girls on my arm. But I loved the cutthroat nature of journalism. Skewering one politician after another was too sweet. With no political leaning myself, whoever was corrupt was a fine target for me. It's just I'd not expected Ms Honeycutt to be added to my list so quickly.

"I have influence," she threatened.

"So, do I. Only mine is the kind to encourage people to do the right thing. What your party is means nothing to me. How you do it, nada. Doing what your voters want rings my bell."

"But power..."

I shook my head and pointed to the wall behind me. I'd won dozens of awards and earned professional acclaim.

"Power is just an opportunity to abuse it." I tossed her a page I'd written but not included in my spoiler.

Normally you'd expect to keep a political scandal under your hat until you published it, to avoid someone scooping you. However, this was a different sort of story and I wanted to see what cages were rattled when they found out.

Serious players keep electronic communications to a minimum, knowing that anything can be hacked. So, they dealt with each other face-to-face. The biggest problem with that is when something urgent comes up.

We had more than a dozen investigators watching her, her husband, and associates. Any sudden change in plans or unexpected meetings was a new thread to investigate.

The new page I showed her, showed how she had pressured the city to award a contract to a company heavily associated with her father-in-law. A company with no skills or expertise in the work required. And it had overrun by over six months, costing the city double the original price.

She glared at me, then turned to the window. The night sky perfectly reflected her as she unbuttoned the top button on the dress. That was interesting. I'd expected more threats and pleading first. An attempted seduction would be an interesting and unexpected approach.

Kimberly was slim and fit. At best, I'd say I was acceptable for my age. My job had cost me my marriage and, to be honest, I was glad to let it go. Too many hours and too much stress, so my wife moved on and found a better guy. I resorted to the occasional massage parlour, but even then, I was still a reporter looking for a story.

"So, you say you won't stop publishing it, because it's the right thing to do. And money and power have no influence over you. What does?" She leant over my desk and thrust her rather modest chest at me. "Are you going to ask me for sexual favours?"

I nearly laughed out loud at how amateur she was about this. To me, it was obvious she'd been sent to see me and told to do whatever it takes to make this go away. But I suspect her ego refused to accept whatever advice she'd been given on how to do it. Thinking her womanly wiles would win me over. She was pretty, but was clearly no seductress.

It would be amusing to introduce her to Candy. A hooker I knew who was both an informant, and a heck of a lot smarter than me. She could easily hold her own talking with tenured professors while sucking dick like a goddess. Let's just say I need to verify my sources.

"Why would you think I would do anything like that, Ms Honeycutt?"

Her expression showed she was thinking hard. Not much of a surprise. Her modest IQ would make it easier for her backers to control her.

"Because I know your kind. Low life with low tendencies. I can arrange for the most proficient courtesan to deal with your base needs."

It was amusing that she used the word courtesan, as if it would throw me. Words were my career. I nearly asked her how she knew Candy. But I kept my eyes neutral.

"Kimberly..." I started and watched her scowl. "Despite your bias to the press. I'm not that kind of guy. Even if your husband is..."

Her eyes flared wide, and I was impressed that she kept her temper. She obviously knew that her husband was unfaithful. I'd heard rumours, but no evidence she'd had lovers. I suspected both she and her husband were sleeping around to further her career.

It was hard to think about the commitment the pair had to their future. But was it different from Candy? She was more honest about it, but Honeycutt would earn more, eventually.

She glanced around, and seeing no cameras, popped another button.

"Trey. It's just us. I need your help. You hold my entire career in your hand. Tell me what you'd like to put in mine?" She mimed giving me a hand job.

I nearly said something, then realised she was hoping I'd say something she could use against me. She didn't have the luxury of 4 high quality hidden cameras and several microphones, instead relying on her phone. I avoided looking over at it, as it would give the game away. So, I recalled its position from memory.

It lay on its back with the base pointed towards us, for better audio pickup. There was no way a camera from her cell phone was on us. But if I said the wrong words, she could edit them together, to make it look like I blackmailed her. However, I'd trained as a lawyer before moving over to journalism. Few people remembered that, and I'd grown jaded seeing politicians and large corporations use loopholes in the laws they helped create to get away with things. That was why my courthouse was that of public opinion.

I made an excuse to go to the toilet, knowing that my open drawers had nothing but office supplies. But I also knew I'd have a video of her rummaging through my stuff. All my videos were recorded on a certified system that time stamped the content. So, Kimberley's recording, even edited, would be useless.

When I returned to my office, I saw her pacing. For a moment, and only a moment, I felt sorry for her. Someone had fed her full of ideas and wound her up like a clockwork toy and pushed her out into the world. Hoping she would succeed, but not overly caring one way or another. These were players with decade long plans. People who always had back-ups.

"Look Kimberly..." She scowled. "OK, Ms Honeycutt. You are here to negotiate something and for that there has to be give and take, right?"

"Is this what you want to take?" She asked and opened her dress wide.

Whilst I'd gone, she must have finished unfastening it and it was quite a display. Her underwear was sexy, but whispered seduction rather than screamed sex. Obviously, she'd dressed expecting our meeting to go this way, which was interesting and held promise.

She had the body of a woman as dedicated to her diet and exercise routine as any athlete. Slim and toned, but just short of muscular. I was sure she could outlast whatever her lovers demanded. The one deficiency to my mind was her breasts were undersized for her frame, but you couldn't have everything. Or could you?

"You have an impressive..." I remembered her recording and altered my words. "Portfolio." I gestured to her body. "But talk is cheap. I've seen recordings of your fundraising speeches, and you have a gift for oratory." I was going to say 'oral skills,' but that was too easy to edit to meet her needs.

She frowned, and I tried again. "I mean, you are skilful with what comes out of your mouth. But it's time to put your money where your mouth is."

Her frown deepened and then the lightbulb went off. A depressingly dim lightbulb as well.

She moved around my desk and pushed my chair back and knelt. From the way she handled my belt and zipper, I got the impression she was practised at this. However, as she reached inside to grab my tool, she froze. On my best day, I'd never claim my looks were anything other than average at best. However, I excelled in other areas.

I'm not porn-star big, but I'm bigger than most. Candy, who has a lot of experience in that area, was impressed. And that's not when I'm paying her for that sort of service. She can be brutally honest when she has to.

Kimberly extracted my tool, and her eyes widened. Obviously, she'd bitten off more than she could chew, as they say. Nope, don't even think of the word bitten in this context. She looked up at me in shock, and it was only partially hard.

I slipped off my trousers and underwear whilst she decided. I'd seen that look before on women's faces when they discovered what I was packing. A small number just said nope and left. Others were hesitant, and a few saw it as a challenge. It was hard to tell on Kimberly's face as she was doing this reluctantly. But I got the impression she might fall into the latter camp.

She pursed her lips together as if swallowing a sudden rush of saliva. Gave me a scowl and put her mouth over it. In a couple of minutes, I realised she could give Candy a run for her money. I had to wonder where this supposedly upright and religious woman had learned such skills. And I wondered how many times she'd done this for influence or financial donations. Along with secondary spermy donations.

I realised she wasn't as good as Candy after all, and she certainly didn't have Candy's business acumen. She'd not negotiated the scope of this encounter. If I was a different kind of guy, and there wasn't a limited time frame for this. I might have strung this out to multiple encounters to sample her body again and again.

I had to give her credit. Faced with the unexpected, she wasn't backing down. She was giving head like a pro and taking it deep. Gagging a little, and tears were forming at the corners of her eyes. I could imagine her taking photos afterwards of how her mascara had been ruined by the brute of a reporter.

I winked at a camera and gestured with my hands that this was perfect. Then I realised I'd nearly fucked up as she looked up at me. I turned the gesture into rubbing my nose. It was obvious that she was working hard to get me to cum quickly, and I didn't want to rush this. I especially wanted to do more.

"You look a little flushed. Are you too warm, Ms Honeycutt?" I asked.

She looked up and gave me a confused look. Which gave a comical cast with her mouth stretched by my tool.

"I mean, are you too warm in what you are wearing?"

She understood and, while keeping my tool in her mouth, shrugged out of her dress and bra.

Her breasts were small, and I was surprised to see both were topped with pierced nipples. That certainly didn't fit with her public persona. I wonder how many others had been pleasantly surprised with the small gold orbs nestling up on either side of her hard nipples.

I reached out to touch one. She tensed, but my wife had small breasts, and I knew how gently you had to handle them. My fingertips hardly grazed her flesh, and I sensed a wave of relief that I'd not just mauled them. Kimberly might do this reluctantly, but it didn't mean that I'd be mean and not return some of the pleasure.

As I used both hands on her body, she slowed down giving me head. I don't know if it's because I've shown I'm prepared to return the pleasure in kind. Or her surprise at the size of my tool. Was that the reason she'd not fully negotiated the scope of this meeting? Instead of starting like a pro with an offer for a hand job, and working it up from there.

But she'd dropped her reluctant pose, and I knew the difference between a woman who loves sucking cock and one who didn't. Just ask my ex-wife. I'd love to ask her, but it would only force her to renew her reluctant act, and I'd rather have her be honest and enjoy it.

A thought hit me, and I wondered if her husband was the one to pimp her out for political influence and donations. They would visit a potential person and he'd drop hints about how appreciative his wife would be. Wait until the man, or I suppose even a woman, bites. Then left them to it. Or perhaps he'd stay and watch. If it were me, I'd make sure I had enough photos to ensure they stayed on the Honeycutt's side for a long time.

Now that would be a photo album I'd pay a small fortune for a copy. A drinking buddy of mine was a private detective, but he'd been in the CIA in his former life. For the right fee, I was sure I could get him to investigate that collection.

A graze of teeth on my tool reminded me I wasn't paying Kimberly the attention she deserved. For a moment, I felt a wave of pity for her. Not enough pity to stop this. I enjoy a blow job as much as the next man, but I wanted to sample more of this woman whilst I had the chance. I knew that once I'd cum, this would be over.

"Ms Honeycutt, I do hope you aren't uncomfortable down there. Would you like to stand up for a moment?"

She got to her feet, and I caught a whiff of her excitement. Which made me feel better about this thing. If her body was reacting like that, her enthusiasm in giving me head wasn't all feigned.

I caught her by the hips and spun her around, then pulled her back onto my lap. My tool stabbed between her thighs and pressed against her panty clad pussy. She let out a gasp and shuddered a little as my hands covered her breasts more forcefully. Signifying my possession of her body. If only for a while.

Without the distraction of my dick in her mouth, she seemed to remember why she was here.

"Trey, will you promise not to publish this story?"

"I spent a lot of time and effort on it. My sources are excellent, and my bosses would be disappointed if it was pulled. Why would I do that?"

"Because if you do, you can put that disgustingly gigantic cock in my cunt." I love it when someone you assume is reserved and refined uses words like cunt. It's not a word I'm comfortable using, but obviously she was.

"I hope that will be enough, because I seriously don't think you could get it in my backdoor without causing me serious harm."

I'd not even considered anal sex when this started, and now that she brought it up, the idea was tempting. But she was right. Very few women could manage it and most complained afterward that it felt like they were a popsicle on my pole.

"Tell you what. I'll email my boss to not publish the story if you're serious about your offer."

"My..."

"Your first offer is acceptable after I get to study your portfolio a little more."

"Fine." She agreed and arched her back and ground her pussy against me.

I wheeled my chair closer to my desk and typed out a quick email. Clearly saying that we should not publish the story. Siting my contractual right to block a story as the lead author. I hit send and my computer pings a confirmation of receipt a moment later. I turned off the monitor and took my phone off the hook to ensure he couldn't get back to me.

"Satisfied?" I asked her.

"And I expect you want me to satisfy you?"

"A good deal is where both parties go away satisfied."

I lifted her off my lap as if she weighed nothing and peeled down her panties. She turned around, and I saw a perfectly trimmed bush. I gestured to my desk, and she sat on the edge. Without waiting, I grasped her knees and lifted them. She rocked back to prop herself up on her elbows as I placed her heels on the arms of my chair.

Kimberly let her legs flop open and reveal her true honey pot, along with a surprise. Her clit was pierced. I never would have guessed that. A small golden ring with a diamond set in it. I notice her wedding band on her finger, but no engagement ring. Perhaps the pair were kinkier than I thought, and this was her engagement ring? It seemed she had more secrets than just who her backers were.

Her piercing and use of crude language made me reevaluate how much of a sexual dynamo she was in bed. I was half tempted to check her back door to see if there was a butt plug. At this stage, I'd not be surprised.