Entrapment 14

Entrapment - Federal Detective Caitlyn Alvarez

Caitlyn flushed the condom and left the bathrooms. Ruben was fast asleep on the bed, a satisfied grin on his face. She smiled at the sight of him. Quickly, she wiggled into the tube top and miniskirt. The black lace thong had been accidentally left behind in the last client's room. That scrap of lingerie had cost her fifty bucks, but she had earned over a thousand for this night. So far.

Moving as fast as she could on stilettos, Cait hurried out of the motel and across the street. Time to advertise. From the fire hydrant in front of the drugstore to the homeless guy sleeping in front of the liquor store. That was her prowl tonight, with the strip club night between.

Lacie's was a topless club, and the dancers were less than friendly. The management was very strict. No touching allowed. So the girls who danced there were the girls who didn't like to be touched. Friendly girls danced at the Cherry Patch, where the management was lax, or The Rabbit Hole, where the managers were pimps.

Guys who came out of Lacie's were horny and frustrated. Easy pickings for a clever streetwalker.

Caitlyn liked to start on her left foot. A hooker strut was like a dance, moving one's body in a rhythm, attracting, teasing, enticing. In classical dances, the female starts on her right foot, with a backward step, as the man moves forward on his left. But in this dance, Cait was definitely leading.

A man came out of the club and started toward her. "Hey, can I talk to you?"

"Of course, Sweetie," Caitlyn said. "What's your name?"

"Arnold."

"What would you like to talk about?"

"Are you what I think you are," Arnold asked.

"A brunette? Yes, I am. Very perceptive of you to notice."

"No," Arnold said. "I mean...a...you know. A prostitute?"

"A whore? You're asking me if I'm a whore?" Caitlyn feigned outrage.

"I'm sorry."

She laughed. "No. I'm sorry. I was just teasing. I am dressed like a whore. It's understandable that you might think that. Why, are you in the market for a whore?"

He nodded silently. Caitlyn winked at him. "I've got to be careful, you know. Tell me what you want and we'll see if we can come to an agreement."

"I want sex," he said.

"Just sex?"

A blowjob would be nice," Arnold added.

"I love giving blowjobs," she said. "Love it. But you can get sex and blowjobs from a lot of girls, and even a few guys."

"I want it now," he said.

"But why a whore?"

"I don't have a girlfriend."

"What makes you think a whore will give you what you want?" Caitlyn asked.

"I'll pay her."

"Those are the magic words," she said. "$150 for a blowjob, $250 for sex and a blowjob, $350 for sex and a no-condom blowjob."

A nearby police siren gave one "Woo!" and the hidden flashing lights of an undercover unit went on. Two cops got out of the car. Caitlyn knew better than to run. Stiletto heels do not offer speed and running in bare feet through the minefield of broken glass, used needles, and body fluids littering the street was not healthy.

"I'm afraid '$150 for a blowjob' were the magic words," one of the cops said. "You're under arrest for prostitution.

"You were wired?" Caitlyn accused Arnold. He shook his head in panic.

The cop held up a little device, like a miniature satellite dish. "Parabolic microphone. It can pick up whispers from 200 feet away."

Caitlyn slipped a card into Arnold's hands as the police approached. "Call that number," she whispered. "You'll get what you want. It's all paid for. My business is with these clowns. Run. They won't chase you."

Arnold dashed away. One cop yelled but didn't bother pursuing. Caitlyn was handcuffed and put in the back of the car. Showtime, she thought. It had taken these guys long enough. Cait had been prowling for hours, waiting for them to show. She'd made plenty of money, but that wasn't really the point.

The shorter, blonde cop got behind the wheel. Officer John Preston, Caitlyn remember from her notes. The taller man had dark red hair. Officer Walter Hahn. Neither was wearing their required name tags. They seldom did on hooker busts.

Officer Preston drove away from the club. "What's your name?" He asked her.

"Anna," she lied.

"Well, Anna. There's quite a bit of cash in your little purse here. Over five hundred dollars."

"$1250," she corrected.

"Six hundred," Officer Preston said firmly.

"Fine. Six hundred. Would you let me go now?"

"What's your hurry?" Officer Hahn asked. "Don't you like our company?"

"Your company just cost me half my money. Expensive friends."

"We'd like to be your friends," Officer Hahn told her. "Friends do things for each other."

"If we were friends, we'd let you go," Officer Preston added.

"But what would you do for us?" Officer Hahn asked.

Caitlyn made her voice a sexy whisper. "What would you like?"

"Any suggestions?" Officer Hahn asked.

"Do you boys like blowjobs? I love giving blowjobs."

"We love getting blowjobs," Officer Preston confirmed.

"And if you're interested," Caitlyn offered, "I happen to be female. You are probably aware that girls have a special anatomical feature tucked between their legs, a hot, wet tunnel just made for sticking a cock into. You are both invited to enter."

"Now you're talking," Officer Preston said. He drove them through the old industrial heart of the city, onto a road lined on both sides with warehouses. The road would be busy at five in the morning, a multitude of tractor-trailers dropping off and picking up heavy loads. But at this hour, just past midnight, it was deserted.

On the sandy shoulder, the car stopped. Caitlyn was made to get out. Officer reached for his keys, but Caitlyn stopped him. Keep the cuffs on," she told him. "I don't think we're here for a handjob."

The cops looked at each other, delighted with tonight's prize. For six months, they'd been busting hookers two or three times a week, just to get a little action. This was the first whore to be so eager. It was just a bit suspicious.

"You're not wearing a wire, are you?" Officer Hahn asked.

Hands securely cuffed behind her, Caitlyn turned away from the cops, putting her forehead on the roof of the car, and spread her legs. "You should probably search me. You had both better give me a thorough strip search right here on the side of the road. I consent. The tube top and skirt will just slide right off."

As the senior partner, Officer Hahn eagerly went first. He made absolutely sure Caitlyn's top contained nothing but her tits. He searched and searched and searched. Cait closed her eyes and savoured the rough male hands squeezing and sliding over her tits. The stretchy tube top was eased down to her waist, exposing her to the night and the hungry eyes of the men, and still the officer searched.

When he was satisfied that Caitlyn had no contraband above the waist, he crouched down behind her. Officer Hahn slipped the tube top and skirt down her legs, to her ankles. She obligingly stepped out of them and the cop threw them to the side. Caitlyn was left wearing nothing but high heels and handcuffs.

Cait wriggled her ass, waving her bare pussy in the crouching officer's face. "You need to search that little pocket, Officer. Some strange man put something in there a little while ago. He was behind me, so I couldn't see what it was."

"Any weapons or drugs I need to be aware of?" the officer asked, stroking the seam of her sex with his finger.

"I couldn't say for sure," Caitlyn answered. "But you know how some drug smuggler will hide cocaine or heroin in condoms?"

"Yeah."

"Whatever that man put in my pussy, it was wrapped in a condom,"Caitlyn informed the officer.

"You've been a bad girl," Officer Hahn accused her.

"I've been a very, very bad girl. If you want to spank me, I totally deserve it."

He gave her ass several sharp swats. Caitlyn gasped at the stinging pain. Her pussy watered in response and she moaned her pleasure.

She heard his zipper come down and smiled. "Take me," she whispered to the cop. This was what the whole night was about.

The blunt head of his cock probed between her legs, like an animal snuffling around the entrance to its burrow. Caitlyn had a deep, abiding love for the penis. The shape fascinated her. The musky scent was intoxicating. The feel of that smooth veiny shaft and the spongy bulbous head in her hands, or between her lips, was the greatest tactile experience she could think of, save one. And she loved the way it could thicken and lengthen. Watching it happen in response to her touch or even just to the sight of her, was an ego boost like no other.

But if she was girlfriend to the cock, then she would happily cheat on him with the balls. That bulgy little sac rubbing against her face or tongue was enough to make her wet. She could spend hours exploring the balls.

It was almost disappointing that she couldn't study Officer Hahn's cock and balls. Almost. But he was impatient, eager to get inside her. And she didn't really blame him. It was only natural that he should be as enraptured by the lips of her pussy and the soft wet walls of her cunt as she was by his dick.

It was impossible for to be truly disappointed at not being able to play with his cock when he was sliding it inside her, right where she wanted it most. If touching and tasting a penis were the second greatest tactile experience, then the feel of a man sheathing himself deep within her was absolutely number one.

Men paid a lot of money for the privilege of sticking their cocks inside her, but Caitlyn would happily pay them to fill her cunt with dicks.

Officer Hahn pushed deep, retreated, then advanced again. Cait reached back as far as her cuffed wrists would allow, until her fingertips touched the officer's hairy belly each time he thrust into her.

She pressed her head to the cold metal roof of the cop's car, luxuriating in the discomfort. Naked, bound, and helpless on the side of the road as a strange man fucked her. This was her idea of Heaven.

"Oh, Fuck me!" she screamed as the orgasm hit. If she weren't pinned between the cop and the car, Cait would have slid bonelessly to the ground as she lost control of her body. Officer Hahn stopped thrusting and pushed her hard against the car, holding her up with his dick, as she shuddered through the climax.

When it faded, and she could stand on her own again, she weakly thanked the cop. "That was amazing. Did you come?"

"No," he said. My partner doesn't like to fuck a girl with cum in her. So I stopped. Now he gets a turn."

"Okay," Caitlyn agreed. She had been hoping both cops would fuck her. But Officer Hahn wasn't finished with her yet.

Officer Preston pulled her up off the car and turned her to face away from him. He made her bend forward at the waist. He took hold of the link joining her cuffs to keep her from going too far.

Officer Hahn stopped in front of her and took hold of her shoulders. "Open wide," he ordered her.

One cop slid deep in her pussy while the other put his dick in her mouth. She joyfully accepted both men inside her and savoured the taste of her own pussy on Officer Hahn.

They shoved her back and forth between them. She was skewered at both ends, like a piece of meat on a spit. Caitlyn tried to concentrate on both the cocks plunging in and out of her, but the sensations were too intense and she was soon in orgasm again.

Officer Hahn was pumping loads of semen down Caitlyn's throat and Officer Preston was coming in her pussy, but she was too lost in her own ecstasy to pay any attention to them. For a long moment, they all shuddered together, each in their own private throes of orgasm.

Recovery was long and slow. The cops panted and wheezed as their heartbeats returned to normal. Caitlyn had to breathe through her nose as her mouth was still filled with cop dick. But eventually, the cops withdrew and helped her to stand. "That was fun," Caitlyn whispered. "Did you boys enjoy it?"

"Oh, yes," Officer Preston assured her. Officer Hahn merely nodded.

"I'm awfully sorry about this next part," Caitlyn told them.

"Next part?" Officer Hahn asked.

"Come on in!" Caitlyn yelled. Six FBI agents jumped up from the ground. They'd been lying facedown, hidden by tarps and covered with sand. Two cars drove up from each direction, surrounding the two police officers.

"Did you get it?" Caitlyn asked. Three FBI agents held up video cameras.

"What about the front of the strip club?"

"Agents Howe and Thompson filmed the arrest."

"Excellent," Caitlyn approved. She stood straight, somehow exuding authority, even naked, with her hands cuffed behind her. "Officers John Preston and Walter Hahn, you are both under arrest for kidnapping, rape, assault, robbery, and corruption under the colour of law."

"Who did we kidnap, assault, and rape?" Officer Preston asked.

"Me. When you arrest a hooker, you take her to the station and book her. When you take her to the middle of nowhere to spank and fuck her, it's not an arrest."

"You consented!"

"A woman in custody cannot legally consent. And the video will show that I was in handcuffs at the time. But don't you worry, boys. This was just the beginning. If you want to avoid a long prison term, you will be giving us all the information we need about your whole corrupt department. You'll even wear a wire."

"Good work, Detective Alvarez," one of the FBI agents told her, looking her up and down appreciatively.

"Thank you, Sanders. Would somebody please uncuff me and bring me my clothes?"