The Princess Bitch

She was a bitch, everything about her said that she was a spoilt little princess, and the strange thing was that she got away with it. When she was with her friends, all sitting in the booth laughing at her, to me feeble, jokes she was the life of the party, a good friend to both male and female alike, but I knew different.

They were college seniors and had been coming into the off-campus bar since the beginning of the year, three couples who seemed to have their lives so settled it was disgusting, but when it was just the girls it was totally different. They sat there plotting how they could keep the boys dangling on their sexual string. "Trent thought that he was really going to score last night, I let him play with my titties and when I let him put his hand between my legs I thought that he was going to have a stroke, oops I didn't mean it like that," they all giggled at her pun, "what I meant to say was that he got really, really excited, and then I told him to stop because I was saving myself for when we get married, he had a boner that big that he couldn't stand up when he got out to open the car door for me, I just about wet myself when I got inside."

"You're so lucky Miranda, you've got your life so sorted, after college you get married and Trent has a job with your father, you'll have your own home, he doesn't know about that yet, in a couple of years you'll start having kids and he'll be an executive with the opportunity to take over from your father when he retires. I just wish my father had that kind of money so that Brad can work for him rather than his own father."

"Daddy was lucky that his family owned the bank and he was able to increase its business when he took over from his father. It was just a small town bank back then but now look at it. I'm so proud of Daddy and what he has achieved."

What is my interest in all of this banality? It is my job to pose as a student and try to get close to Miranda and see if I can gather usable Intel on the 'Daddy' in question, J Michael Housman, owner and CEO of the Housman Trust Bank of Centerville, the only bank in the entire state, maybe even the entire US of A, that has survived relatively unscathed from the global financial meltdown. Not only did it survive but it increased its business, and a bank that could achieve this was enough to set alarm bells ringing in the fiscal halls of power.

I felt sorry for Trent because she was playing him like a cat with a mouse, giving him the hint of success and then cruelly crushing his hopes. He didn't deserve this but he had little choice, it was some sort of family deal that the two of them would finish college, get married and live happily ever after, unlike J Michael himself whose wife Melanie had decamped some three years earlier and was now living with her lady lover in the next county.

I had spoken to Trent a couple of times, well exchanged the time of day is closer to what happened, and I found him polite and friendly. He was a good, almost brilliant, student studying for an MBA that was designed to give him the qualifications he needed for the career chosen by both parents when it was found that Miranda would be the only child in the Housman household. The Housmans and the Whitmans had been friends for three generations and the bank had helped establish the Whitman sugar empire in the early days of the relationship.

William Whitman owned several sugar plantations and a mill in Cuba up to the time of the revolution and the emergence of Castro. William had sensed the revolution building up steam and had sold his interests to a competitor and moved to the Caribbean where he purchased plantations and a mill in the Virgin Islands and Jamaica. At least three times a year his son, also William, would travel to these islands to check on the business and maintain the friendship with the managers.

J Michael had convinced William Jr. that, to appear successful, he should lease an executive jet for these visits, so a lease deal was arranged by the bank for him to use a Gulf 5 for this purpose, and to act as a courier for the bank. This consisted of delivering a case of business papers to an associated bank in the Caymans. He was assured that the transactions were all strictly Kosher so he had no qualms about this minor task, after all he was just helping a friend.

When the crash of '87 happened, the Whitman family helped the Housman bank to ride out the storm. This brought the two families even closer together and, over the years and through many family occasions their children, Miranda and Trent, became close friends, some would have said that they were like brother and sister, so it came as no surprise that they had made a pact that, when the time came, they would marry. It was this pact that kept Trent hoping for a change of heart from Miranda that would allow him to become more than just friends. During many of their fumblings in the front seats of his Audi he became frustrated at her inability or unwillingness to provide him with a rational reason why she would not allow him to go any further than to caress her through the material of her panties. Any attempt to venture beyond that brought from her a firm rebuke and the command to take her home. Her refusal didn't stem from any religious zeal, church wasn't on either of their agendas, she just reiterated that she had made a promise to herself that she would remain 'pure' until their wedding night.

It was around midnight the next night when Trent came into the bar looking like a bear with a sore head. I had stayed back after the last patron had left to help the owner clean up because I knew that he'd be in and in a state. "Can I have a scotch?"

"We're closed." Tony the owner wanted to get away from there as soon as possible. I walked behind the bar and poured Trent his drink.

"Thanks." Half the drink was gone and he put the glass down on the bar. He just sat there and stared at his reflection in the mirror behind the bar.

"You look like someone who has had his balls kicked in." I topped up his glass.

"Women, I don't understand them."

"Don't tell me, let me guess. You took her out to a fancy restaurant and had a meal that set you back more than I get in a week, and, believing that all the body language between you meant that you were finally going to score, you got to her place and she let you fondle her tits but, when you put your hand between her legs she cried foul and left you there with Roger saluting but no action forthcoming."

"Are you psychic or something? This has been going on forever and I'm not getting any closer to making love to her. If it wasn't for the fact that she has promised a million times that, on our wedding night I can have it all, I think I'd have given up."

"Why don't you? I'm sure that there are any number of girls willing to let you, I even think that with a little persuasion I'd let you." I placed an obvious amount of emphasis on the word 'little'.

He looked at me as if he was seeing me for the first time. "Do I know you? You look familiar somehow."

"I've seen you a few times and spoken to you a few time as well, but I didn't expect you remember someone like me when you have Miranda on your mind."

"So you know her do you?"

"No, but I have overheard her and her friends talking about you and the other girls' boyfriends, so I knew what she had planned for you tonight."

"What?" An incredulous look slowly drifted across his face as the reality of his love life slowly sank in.

"Let me ask you this; if she really cared about you and told you that she was saving herself for when you were married, do you think she'd tease you this way? Surely it would be better for you not to allow you to even touch her breasts let alone feel her between the legs."

"I guess she thought that if she didn't give a little I would look elsewhere."

"Have you ever given her any cause to believe that to be the case?"

"No, never. I don't even look at other girls." Even as the words left his lips he realized that was what he had been doing for the last couple of minutes.

"Look, Tony is giving me the sign that he wants to close up, would you do me a favor and walk me home?"

"Sure thing."

I grabbed my bag from behind the bar and we left. It was usually only a ten minute walk but tonight neither of us were in a hurry.

"When are you expecting to start working for Housman's?"

"Oh I already work there during vacations, getting to know the ropes you know. I just help out mainly, whatever I'm asked to do, you know the shit jobs that get heaped on the most junior staff."

"I know what you mean, I help my father out from time to time, when I can." I wasn't lying, my father was my boss but he didn't show me any favors by giving me the best jobs, I still had to do the hack work unless it was something that I was most suited for like this job. "Do you like the work?"

"It's okay I guess. The whole time that I'm there I can feel the staff looking at me and talking behind my back. I don't suppose that I blame them after all they can see that in a short time I'll be leapfrogging them for a senior position. If it wasn't for the friendship between my parents and Miranda's father I think I'd leave and find a job somewhere else."

We had arrived at my apartment building. "Would you like to come up for a coffee?"

He hesitated for a second or two. "Why not? I really enjoy talking to you, you seem to be interested in things other than fashion and music."

The light was flashing on my answering machine but I ignored it, there was nothing that I could do about it so I thought that I'd leave it until the morning until I had time to take care of it. "How do you like your coffee?"

"White'll be fine thank you." He was looking around the room, it wasn't much to look at, just a sofa, a coffee table and a TV, while in the corner was my computer, that was it. I could see that this was nothing like what he was used to.

"It's not much is it? It's all I can afford right now but wait until I graduate and then look out. Onwards and upwards, that'll be me." I handed him his coffee and we sat on the sofa and I kicked off my shoes. "That's better." I wiggled my toes. He was looking at me, trying to decide what to do next. "What?"

"Oh. I'm sorry if I was staring, it's just that you're . . . . . . nice."

"Oh wow! Such praise. Of course I'm nice, do you think that I'd be shitty to someone that I think is pretty nice?" I put my hand on his thigh. "Look Trent, your experience with girls is a little limited, we're not all prissy little princesses you know." I leaned across and kissed him. I thought that he was going to do a runner but then he surprised me by returning my kiss. I slid across next to him and pretty soon we were at it full on and I didn't stop him when he unbuttoned my blouse and slipped his hand inside and over my breast. When his hand reached between my legs I opened them wider to allow him access to my pussy. "Slow down, this isn't a race you know, I'll enjoy it more if you take your time."

"You're not going to stop me then?"

"If I'd wanted to stop you you would be writhing around on the floor about now. I'm not a prick tease you know."

"That's what you think Miranda is?"

"That's exactly what she is." I felt his hard cock through his trousers, it was ready for action. I slipped to the floor and knelt between his legs, the look on his face when I opened his flies and extracted his stiffened cock from his jocks was priceless. When I opened my mouth and engulfed him I thought that his eyes were going to pop right out of their sockets. "Just relax and enjoy, I'm not going to bite it off you know." I returned to my task.

Some minutes later he grabbed my hair and gently pulled me from his cock. "If you don't stop I'll, you know, ejaculate into your mouth." Straight out of Sex Ed 101.

"And that's a problem how?"

"Do you mean that you'll let me?" In answer I swallowed his cock and swallowed his cum.

"Now it's your turn." I stood up and slipped off my knickers, what there was of them. "I want you to, I'll rephrase that, I need you to get between my legs and lick my pussy, you don't think that you're the only one to get pleasure out of this, do you?" He did as I asked and was getting into the swing of things quite nicely when I stopped him. "Now what I want you to do is to put your finger into my pussy and turn your tongue's attention to the area just at the top of it, that's where my clit hides and if you lick it well enough it will poke its head out and I'll be really happy." I was soon happy. Trent looked at me and my smiling face with a certain amount of pride that was only going to get better.

I stood up and held out my hand, "Come with me." I noticed that he didn't hesitate in following me to my bedroom, he even helped me out of my clothes, that was of course after I helped him out of his and he stood, naked, in front of a woman for probably the first time since he was a little kid. With his new found confidence he made no attempt to cover up his cock. In bed his lesson in sex began in earnest and I have to admit that he was a keen student, and enthusiastic, and energetic, his stamina saw him still going an hour later. Eventually we slipped into exhausted sleep.

"Fuck! What time is it?" Not the wakeup call I was expecting. "Shit, I'm supposed to meet Miranda and her father in less than an hour. He scrambled out of bed and began to throw on his clothes.

"Stop." He stopped with one foot in his trousers. "Why don't you have a quick shower, you can't go to meet her smelling of us, then get dressed, you can even use my razor to scrape off your excuse for a beard and I'll get some coffee happening." He threw his clothes back off and followed the direction of my finger to the bathroom. The coffee had just brewed when he rushed into the kitchen, grabbed the mug that I held out to him and swallowed it in one gulp.

He kissed me with quick passion and headed for the door. "Wait, I've got to thank you for last night and I'd really like to do it again."

I grabbed a pen and scribbled my name and phone number on a piece of paper. "Call me whenever you need help."

"Thanks." He glanced at the paper. "Julie, I will. You are so different from Miranda, I can't remember when I felt so relaxed with a girl."

"Go!" I pushed him to the door. As soon as he had gone I pressed the button on my machine. It was, as I had expected, my father touching base. I dialed his number. "Hi it's me, listen, I think a strategic shift is in order."

"What do you have in mind?"

"I was getting nowhere with Miranda, she has her circle of 'Heathers' and no outsider dare try to enter, so I think her boy friend might be a better option."

"How do you intend to work on him, and why?"

"I already have, and as for the why, he already works for Housman's and he is a strong possibility to get the information that we need."

"When you said that you have already worked on him, just what do you mean?"

"He came into the bar on closing time looking all sad, so I was the shoulder he needed to cry on, and one thing led to another, let's just say that I'm convinced that he'll be receptive. And before you ask, let's also say that I gave him what the princess has been denying him for years. I think that he could be falling in love with me."

"What are your feelings for him?"

"He's a nice guy, and that's all that I'm prepared to say about it."

"I hope you know what you're doing."

It was after eleven on Wednesday night when my phone interrupted my attempt to sleep. "Hello, what is your emergency?"

"Julie? It's Trent, did I wake you? If so I'm sorry but I have to talk to you, please."

"Okay, if you can remember where I live you can come over."

"Thanks." My doorbell rang, he must have been right outside when he called.

"What's so desperate that you have to call me this late?" Okay, I'm not the most receptive when I'm rudely awaken in the middle of the night.

"You know that sailing trip I went on with Miranda and her father on Sunday. Well the people that he was entertaining didn't look the type that a small town bank manager would normally be associating with and quite frankly they scared me. What was even more weird was the Miranda and her father were fawning over them like their lives depended on staying in their good books. I was so scared of these guys that I thought that I should go to the police, but then what could they do unless a crime had been committed. Then I thought of you and something that you said the other night about studying Corporate Law and I figured that you might be able to give me some advice about what I should do. I got the feeling that these guys were up to no good and that if I could get an ID on them, and they were crooks I would have something to take to the police, so I took a drinking glass used by each of them in the hope that their fingerprints would turn up on a database somewhere." He took a package from his sports bag and handed it to me. "I didn't touch the outside at all and I wrapped them carefully so as not to smudge any prints that might be there. What should I do with them?"

"Let me ask you one question; if you were to discover that Mister Housman was involved in something illegal, would you turn him in?"

"Yes, of course I would."

"Even though he's Miranda's father and you two are supposed to be getting married?"

"Yes."

"She'll probably be very angry and might just call the whole thing off."

"The way I'm feeling right now it wouldn't bother me too much. There's something else, I noticed the way that they looked at each other and when I mentioned it on the way home she just said that I was imagining the whole thing, there's something not right happening here."

I picked up my phone and hit speed-dial 1. "Hi, it's me, can you come over, I think that you need to hear this and I might have some evidence for you."

"Can't it wait until morning?"

"No. You'll understand when you get here." I looked at Trent and could see that he was confused by this. "I need to tell you something and it might affect the way you feel about me, but believe me it doesn't affect the way that I feel about you, in fact I think more of you now." He looked even more confused. "You remember when I told you that I was working for my father, well, he is my boss, but I'm working for the government and we're investigating the operations of the Housman bank. My job was to try and get close to Miranda in the hope that she would disclose some information that we could use. You know her better than most, if you're not a member of her inner circle the chances of getting close are zero."

"So you thought that you'd use me instead?"

"Not at first, no. When I overhead them talking about how they have been manipulating their boyfriends I felt sorry for you guys and when you came into the bar the other night I took the opportunity to get close to you and do something about the little bitch. I like you, probably more than I should, and I don't want to see you hurt like this, and after what you've just told me I think that you are going to get hurt even more if I let things continue to progress down the present path. Wait until father gets here and it will all become clear to you, I hope."

"What do you mean, I'm going to get hurt?"

"I think that there's a long term plan involved, but I also think all of that is about to change." My door bell saved me from further explanation.

"What is so important that it couldn't wait until morning?" My father was between anger and curiosity.

"Trent, this is my father Special Agent Simon Pettigrew, he is with the FBI's special taskforce investigating banking irregularities in the wake of the global financial melt-down, we have been investigating the Housman bank because there's something not quite right about how it managed to survive and profit from the melt-down. What you have just told me might be the solution."