Bridget looked herself over one last time, pushing her lips out, kissing towards her reflection in order to touch up her cherry lipstick in the bathroom mirror of her tiny apartment. Her wonderfully tight black dress slid fluidly along her captivating curves, beautifully complimenting her soft, smooth, lightly bronzed skin. Her client tonight was a regular. He was quick, always tipped well, and frankly, the thrill of pleasuring a congressman never lost it's luster.
The 23-year-old leaned forward and smiled into her chocolate brown irises, checking her eyeliner before slightly tugging at her dress, exposing enough of the valley her C-Cups created to entice, but little enough that it still tortured any observers.
"Amanda, I'll be back a little later tonight, okay?" Bridget, trying to sound casual, called out to her roommate who sat watching T.V. from the living room couch. Bridget heard no response, and grabbed her four-inch black stilettos from the entryway floor. She leaned against the wall for support, slipping on the shoes that she knew would show off her toned legs, as well as raise her average height to a respectable 5'10". Bridget looked expectantly over at the back of her Amanda's head. The two girls, that only a year and a half earlier had got along like devoted sisters, had talked little since Bridget had been forced to drop out of school. She'd been unable to pay her tuition after a knee injury early in her junior year had cut her track career short, robbing her of a much-needed scholarship. With no close family to turn to for help, but determined to get back into school, Bridget started up with what she saw as her only legitimate option. Amanda very clearly didn't approve of how Bridget was earning the money finish her degree, but each girl's stubborn nature prevented either from moving out of the apartment.
Bridget swallowed the flash of anger that her roommate's apathetic silence had sparked. Snatching her clutch from the hallway table, Bridget strode out of their apartment, snapping the door crisply behind her. Accompanied by the clicking of her heels against the cement sidewalk, Bridget made her way to the dinged-up, red Honda accord that she shared her age with. She slid in onto the grey cloth of the driver's seat, being careful to lean forward, and bringing her hands to the back of her neck, brushing her long, straight, silken locks of auburn hair forward, draping them over her shoulders, to keep them from being crushed between her dress the seat. Her car sputtered to life and Bridget began the short drive from the Georgetown campus, to the Capitol Hill neighborhood of D.C.
Bridget pulled up in front of the tall, thin, red-bricked townhouse that her client, Iowa State Representative John Grittner, had lived in with his wife for the past five election cycles. Giving herself one last look in the small mirror of the car's sun shade, Bridget ran a careful hand through her soft and silken hair. Giving a playful kiss towards her reflection, then slipping her keys into her handbag, Bridget stepped out of her car and began walking up the familiar, unlit steps to the dark varnished wood of the front door, ringing the bell.
The door opened almost immediately. Apart from his jacket and tie, John was still in the clothes he'd worn to work; a blue, button-down dress shirt, and a pair of black pants. His face was slightly flushed, betraying the fact that he'd been drinking in anticipation of her arrival. Bridget flashed him her white smile and gave a slight tilt to her head that she knew he found impossibly cute.
"Congressman..." the young girl in the doorway greeted with teasing smirk.
"Hey there, beautiful girl..." John answered, looking Bridget up and down slowly, a knowing grin on his face, holding the door open wider to welcome his date inside.
Bridget stepped into the hallway, giving John a playful smile, then looking around at the walls, feeling John's hand slip around to her lower back, pulling her further into the house, and closing the door behind them. Bridget's eyes returned, boring into to John's as they walked slowly into the living room. It was a look she'd mastered over the last year; seductive and sweet, with a mischievous grin tugging at the corners of her mouth. Its sole purpose was to convince whoever the man was who'd asked her over, the he was the only person in the world she'd ever wanted. Sometimes Bridget would get so caught up in her persuasion, she'd almost convince herself of it.
The pair stood in front of the leather couch of John's living room. Bridget let a soft sigh escape her mouth, biting her lip, feigning her lust, as she faced John, pressing forward, and letting her right hand slide up his chest. Bridget stepped out of her heels, and was suddenly tiny in front of Johns 6'1" frame, neck arched, looking directly up at the older man.
John smiled arrogantly at the young girl, sliding both of his hands around her waist, gripping one of his wrists behind her, resting low on her back, growing certain of this call girl's desperation for him.
"Where's your wife tonight?" Bridget asked in a soft, mischievous tone, slowly moving higher by getting on her tippy toes, causing John to unconsciously begin to bend his head down to her.
"Some fund raiser," he answered in a sarcastically sorrowful tone, one hand slipping down to the smooth, firm ass of his guest, "but we probably don't have more than an hour..."
Bridget gave the Congressman her most childish frown, sticking out her bottom lip in a pout, but letting a smile quickly grow to replace it. "We'd better hurry then, huh?" Bridget said quietly, leaning in and pressing her soft lips against John's for the first time that night. At first gently, letting him enjoy the feel of the small girls' mouth against his. After a few seconds she began pressing harder, seemingly giving in to her hunger for the married man, slipping her tongue into his mouth, cementing John's delusion of the young girl's desire for him.
Bridget broke the kiss and put her lips next to John's ear. "Mmm, you taste good, Mr. Congressman. How about a glass of whatever that taste is," she whispered playfully.
John smiled at her, and guiding her down onto the couch before walking over to the bar against the wall and pouring each of them a generous glass out of one of the crystal decanters containing a light, golden-brown liquid. John turned back smiling once again and walked over, sitting next to his young guest on the soft leather of his couch, handing Bridget one of the circular cut glass tumblers
"Mmm, God that's so yummy" Bridget cooed licking her lips after her first sip.
John slipped one arm around her and his other he put on her thigh. "I got this scotch as a gift," he said in a smug voice, sliding his hand up Bridget's leg slowly. "From a very important man... I don't bring it out for just anybody," he finished with a wink.
Bridget acted impressed like she knew he wanted. "Oh wow" she giggled, "Spending the good stuff on me, huh?"
John leaned forward, "Only the best for the most beautiful girl in the world..." he gave Bridget a clumsy kiss, sliding his hand further up her leg.
Bridget pressed back against him, setting her glass down on the coffee table and letting her hands roam John's imperfect body, feeling his hands grope her in hunger.
"Mm, John..." Bridget moaned as John's fingers found her mound through her dress. "That's so good, baby,".
John's lips moved to Bridget's neck, before he licked up to her ear and whispered arrogantly "Get on your knees, sweetheart..."
Bridget gave him her best naughty smile as she slid off the couch down to her knees in front of her client. "Is this what you want, Mr. Congressman?" She asked sweetly, sliding her hands up John's legs, rubbing his stiff cock through his pants.
John let out a groan, partly from the mention of his impressive title, and partly from the placement of the young girl's hands.
"That's it, baby..." he answered, talking down to the girl on her knees. "Get that fat cock out. You know you wanna taste it," he said teasingly.
Bridget, keeping her warm brown eyes fixed on John's hungry blue ones, leaned forward and kissed the bulge in his pants, blowing warm air through the fabric, as she unbuttoned and unzipped him.
John let out another groan and tilted his head back before looking back down at the young girl in front of him, running a hand through her hair. "Fuck... You're so hot," he said under his breath.
