Her Witness (A Lesbian Agent)
She viewed the dry southern community as a stepping stone. A small hitch towards her grand scheme in life. She was a hustler, a survivor. Now she planned to rule this place in her own special way, even while living under federal witness protection.
It would be difficult but she knew how to work her charm. And she had the body for it. Teresa spent a lifetime honing her skills on the streets, which later translated into skills used by various organized crime. She primarily ran underground casinos and an escort agency in her other life.
To make her comeback, she needed allies. The government had already provided her with a job at the local spa and she befriended her colleagues and customers. None of them knew about the witness protection, of course. All they knew was that she moved there for a 'better life in a quiet setting,' which was technically true.
Next she spent what money she had on sex toys, strap-ons, lingerie, makeup, and other beauty products. Call it an investment. In her younger days, she had to style herself on a tight budget, so this was nothing new.
Finally came the need to ensure she remained within the guidelines of her witness protection agreement. Feds, in her experience, don't mess around. One slip and she'd be sent to prison. The deal revoked. Not a good thing if the people after you are experienced killers with vast connections.
Luckily the FBI agent assigned to handle her was a woman. They were both around the same age, career-minded, and didn't take shit from anymore. There was some commonality between them, some common ground. Teresa appreciated the fact that the agent could sympathize with her about this whole ordeal.
Other than that, they were from different worlds. Teresa was a woman who lived the high life. Money, friends, parties. The agent, on the other hand, lived by the book. At the very least, she found the agent to be mildly attractive. On a few occasions, Teresa masturbated to the thought of pointing a gun to the agent's head, making her perform oral sex.
She laid the supplies on the dining table. Strap-ons next to panties. Corsets next to lingerie. Makeup next to hair products. It was fun to arrange these items, thinking of her sales pitch, because it reminded her of her younger days as a street hustler.
When the agent arrived for a routine checkup and trial prep, it was time to lay it all out there.
"You didn't have to show this to me," Agent Smith said, hiding her amusement.
Teresa perked up. "This is my new line of work. Well, a side business. I'll still be working at the spa, but as you know, I'm an entrepreneur at heart."
"Please explain, Ms. Cortez."
"What do you think this community is missing?"
"I was going to say good Chinese food, but I'm guessing you have other things in mind."
Teresa licked her lips. "Great sex. Fantastic sex. And since I'm expected to keep a low profile, then men can't be trusted. Men talk too much when it comes to sex. That leaves me with the only other clients available -- women."
It was almost entertaining watching the agent's reaction. The last few months had been a delicate game for them. Teresa had to be on her best behavior as part of the agreement, yet she loved antagonizing this straight-laced agent wherever possible.
Meanwhile it was the agent's job to ensure that Teresa was comfortable and getting settled in to the community. After all, Teresa was a star witness for two major trials. Without her, certain prosecutors would lose their limelight.
"I can't let you do anything illegal," Agent Smith said, unamused. "And you already know that."
"This state voted to decriminalize sex work last year. What I'm proposing would be within the confines of the law. I've researched it."
"Yes, but part of my job is to ensure that you don't commit any more crimes while you're here. That means keeping a low profile. You'd be surprised how many people use their witness protection funds to commit new rackets."
Teresa gave a sympathetic, almost condescending smile. "Which is why I'm coming to you. For your approval. I've already done the research into state and local laws, and trust me, everything is square."
Again, the agent's straight face was a source of entertainment. How rigid could one woman be? Teresa thought.
"I'll have to run it by my supervisor," Agent Smith said reluctantly.
"Your boss is an asshole. That's why I'm coming straight to you. I'm hoping we can avoid the usual drama."
"We both know that I'm required to report everything of relevance."
"But why? If I'm within the law and I'm the star witness, can't you at least give me some perks of my own? I mean, look at this dump. I need more money."
"I'm sure you'll get a promotion soon enough," Agent Smith replied. "Reports indicate that you're doing well at your job."
Teresa shrugged. "You'll never understand. Some people are born to run. I'm a hunter. Working 9-to-5 will never be my thing."
"Do I have to remind you of our agreement, Ms. Cortez?"
"No, I know the agreement by heart."
"Then it's settled."
"Look, we need each other," Teresa said. "My testimony will put a lot of bad people in prison. But we both know that your people will get big promotions out of this. So work with me here. If I'm happy, trust me, you'll be very happy in return."
The agent paused for a moment, knowing how valuable her testimony is to the Feds and the hierarchy. As they both knew, this was a symbiotic relationship, more than anyone would care to admit.
"I'm listening," Agent Smith said.
"It's simple. We do everything normally. I'll continue my job. I'll keep living in this shitty little house. And you keep coming here for briefings and updates."
Teresa flashed a saleswoman smile. "But I'll get to run my business on the side. You don't report it. Our secret."
"Are you going to withhold testimony if I report what you're doing?"
"No, that would be a violation of the agreement. However... if we keep this a secret -- just between us -- then who knows, maybe I'll remember a few more things. I'll be on my best behavior and make life easy for you. It'll be good for both of us."
She watched the agent pause. Feds are difficult to corrupt, in Teresa's opinion, but she knew they love making favorable deals that keep their bosses happy. She'd heard all about that from criminals she used to work with in her old life.
"I'll think about it," Agent Smith reluctantly stated. "No promises. As long as you stay out of trouble, we can work something out between us."
It was a good enough answer and a tepid sign of early approval.
Making straight women turn gay is Teresa's drug of choice. It was those kinds of moments that she lived for, and perhaps it was time for Agent Smith to have a turn and finally loosen up. Teresa savored the idea of turning a federal agent, but that was secondary.
Until then, business was calling. She'd already dropped hints to people she assumed would be interested. Namely a few of the regular customers at the spa where she worked. Career women who could afford to pay for extra indulgence, and who were interested in what she had to offer.
Teresa decided that her first potential client would be a 44 year old accountant who comes to the spa every weekend for a massage and skin treatment. This woman was kind and lovely, who enjoyed the feeling of hands pressing onto her skin.
After the patron had gotten a massage, she laid in a room quiet with soothing music in the background, cucumbers on her eyes, letting the facial and skin treatment work its magic.
Teresa slipped into the room and brought her lips to the patron's ear for the sale pitch:
"Leave the cucumbers on your eyes. It's me, Teresa, and I'd like to offer you something that you can't get anywhere else. I know a lot about women just from their eyes. I can see the way you look at me or the staff around here, especially when you don't think anyone notices. But I notice. And I think you'd be interested in something special."
When the patron was startled and tried to move, Teresa put her hand on the woman's bare shoulder.
"Don't be alarmed. Do you like the way my hand feels? Do you want me to slide my hand beneath your towel, onto your breast? How about your nipple? Consider this a freebie. I charge $100 per hour, just for my company. An extra $50 for kissing. An extra $75 for breast play, including nipple sucking. $100 for strapon sex. $150 for cunnilingus. $200 for quality rimjobs. Specialty fetishes can be negotiated. What do you think about that?"
She got the answer she was looking for in the form of a low groan. But then again, that groan might have come from Teresa playing with this woman's nipple, giving light pinches and twists.
The spa session ended with them exchanging contact info for a future appointment.
Next on the list was a 39 year old local news producer who enjoyed massages followed by a lengthy stay in the hot sauna. When no one was looking, Teresa slipped into the sauna wearing only a towel. Sitting close together, she made the exact same pitch to the stunned patron.
"All you have to do is think about it. You've earned the right to have a new experience. I can tell you're a straight woman, but trust me, the goods are worth the price. Don't believe me? I can offer you a freebie."
Teresa stood and held her towel open, giving the woman a clear view of her naked body. After several seconds of displaying the merchandise, she closed her robe, blew a kiss, and left the sauna to get dressed in her normal work clothing.
It was days later when she met with Agent Smith for the regular checkup and briefing before trial. Things were always a formal affair between them and she appreciated the fact that the agent never gave her a hard time.
When the administrative things were settled, Teresa was upfront about her new endeavor.
"So, remember that business plan we discussed? As it turned out, I've lined up two clients already and I could be making more than $600 for a few hours work."
Agent Smith was stone faced. "You were serious about that."
"I'm always serious when it comes to money. And per the terms of our agreement, I'll never lie to you. So yeah, I was telling you the truth about my business plan and I wanted to give you an update on that."
There was a pause as the agent gave it a thought, revealing nothing through her expressions.
"You're a gutsy woman," the agent said. "I'll give you that. I'll also keep this between us. The government won't need to know about this."
"Thank you, I really appreciate this. I also get the feeling that bad news is coming though."
"Well, I've looked into state and local laws, and this appears to be legal. However, I'm concerned about other laws that could be broken."
Teresa crossed her arms."Such as?"
"Potential drug use. Potential extortion. Things you were previously accused of."
"I'm a brand new woman."
"You're also a star witness. I can't jeopardize your testimony."
"Then watch me work," Teresa replied in a heartbeat. "Literally, watch me. I don't care. My life is already under a microscope. I don't care if you want to watch me fucking."
"Ms. Cortez, we both know..."
"You already monitor my job, my living space, my every action. I mean it, you can watch me. I'll run my business out of this home so you can observe everything. If you refuse, then fuck it, I'll just go to prison a few years, and when I get out, I'll make myself into a millionaire again. You can kiss my testimony goodbye."
That was her ace in the hole. Her pre-rehearsed line that she knew would get the agent on her side for good. As she expected, the agent stopped cold, realizing that they were both stuck with each other.
Perspective: Agent Lisa Smith
The most amazing thing Lisa had ever seen -- sexually speaking -- was the sight of Ms. Cortez's nipples and what could be done with them. The breasts were small, but the nipples were dark and thick, which could become even longer if stimulated properly. They were favorites of these clients.
Lisa watched these encounters happen in the home of Ms. Cortez, using hidden cameras that were meant for security purposes. But with agency resources stretched thin, Lisa was assigned to handle this alone. Especially since the witness was a woman that wasn't viewed as a threat.
Generally, her private taste tended to steer away from pornography; she was more interested in erotic literature in her free time. But what she was watching on the monitors was a form of homemade porn. And she got the impression that Ms. Cortez liked being watched.
None of the clients knew they were being monitored. This wasn't being recorded anyway and Lisa didn't care who they were. With these sorts of activities being recently made legal in the state, her only job was ensuring that no crimes were committed. That's it.
She remained professional while monitoring things alone, but she masturbated late at night. It was the first time she had ever fantasized about a witness she was protecting. It was limited to her secret pleasure. Emotionally she remained detached as any good agent should be.
They never talked about the sex after it happened. It was never acknowledged, though she got the impression that the witness enjoyed being more brazen about this.
"I need a favor," Ms. Cortez said with an air of entitlement. "My business is expanding and I have a generous offer to do a house call."
"Out of the question. Everything must be done here. If you get drug tested and it comes back dirty, we're both in trouble. Especially you."
"How about this? I swear I won't do drugs. We can even do a pinky-promise like we're in school. Besides, this new client is squeaky clean. Drugs are out of the equation."
It was times like this that Lisa was torn between two sides. Her orders were to keep a watchful eye on this witness. Because as everyone knew, this witness was the key. Without the testimony, there'd be no cases.
On the other hand, she felt compelled to look after the best interest of this witness. She sympathized with her. She thought Ms. Cortez was an intelligent woman who was dealt all the wrong cards in life, but somehow made the best of everything.
"Who's the client?" Lisa inquired.
Ms. Cortez smiled, "The city attorney."
"That's a problem."
"Why? I've proven myself to be a good girl."
"Because that's a government official," Lisa explained, even knowing it was pointless to argue. "I have a fiduciary duty to listen to everything to ensure there's no corruption happening."
"I'm going to make $1,000 in cash," Ms. Cortez said.
"You can make that money here, in this house, where I can monitor everything."
"This house is old and unappealing. My client wants things in a beautiful setting."
"Dress this place up then," Lisa replied. "You can afford it now."
"How about this? Come with me. I bet you're experienced with undercover surveillance ops. Wear a sexy disguise and you can watch the ins-and-outs of how I run my business."
There was a gleam in the eyes of Ms. Cortez, as if this were leading somewhere dark, and sex was the only logical conclusion.
"You can't be serious."
"Look, I'm doing this job no matter what. You can either come with me, or you can wonder if I'm talking about some crooked ass shit with a government lawyer. Your choice, babe."
And the choice was obvious. More than anything, Lisa had the sinking feeling that this was something worth seeing in person, instead of using a monitor. She looked into the eyes of Ms. Cortez and all she could think about sex.
The city attorney was a 48 year old woman named Samantha. Upon brief research, this woman was brilliant, with a distinguished legal career and a clean record. She seemed like the last person in the world who would ever pay for sex, but then again everyone has their needs.
At approximately 8:52 pm on a Friday, Lisa accompanied Ms. Cortez to the residence of the client. She'd been on undercover surveillance assignments before -- as the witness had already guessed flippantly -- but this was different. This time she was wearing a black dress and heels, an outfit she had purchased the day before.
When the door to the apartment opened, they were greeted by Samantha, a demure looking barefoot woman in a silk robe, with the most nervous look on her face. Women like her, under normal circumstances, would be publicly opposed to these sorts of transactions.
"Here's the friend I've told you about," Ms. Cortez said, referring to the agent. "She'll be watching and learning. Who knows, maybe you can hire her someday to give you a rimjob."
Samantha looked up and down the agent's body. "She's a beautiful woman. Both of you are beyond gorgeous. I may be interested in hiring both of you, but first I have to find out if this suits me."
Entering the apartment felt like an intrusion. The place was neat, elegant, and everything was arranged meticulously. Exactly the kind of place you'd expect a government lawyer to live.
Lisa declined a drink of wine but Ms. Cortez accepted. Nervous small talk was made as Lisa stood to the side and observed, pretending to be in the escort business instead of being a law enforcement agent.
When they went to the bedroom, the nerves of Samantha only grew. The walls and tables displayed photos of Samantha, proud in sharp suits, standing in court or offices with a big smile. Now this woman had quivering lips, undoing the robe to reveal a red see-through lingerie, which covered a middle-aged body.
"You are something I can definitely work with," Ms. Cortez said, licking her lips.
Lisa stood at the side of the bedroom and was a voyeur. What was supposed to be a fact-finding mission turned into an odyssey. How could she have underestimated the situation? Whatever the circumstance, she wasn't leaving.
She watched Ms. Cortez undress into an open-cup bra and crotchless panties. Those dark nipples looked much more delicious in person. They were hard in an instant.
The women talked then kissed. Samantha was a wreck but managed to finally relax. There was exploration and it looked surprisingly tender. On the bed they kissed some more and did plenty of fondling. Breasts touching and nipples being pulled. Oral sex was traded, and after a quick tutorial for Samantha, they got into the 69 position and tongued each other deep.
Orgasms were shared. It could have ended there. Samantha looked like she got her money's worth. But there was more.
Ms. Cortez went to her purse to retrieve a 7-inch strap-on dildo and wore it around her crotch. It looked menacing, that sex tool between her legs. This was a woman who knew how to use it and Samantha looked taken aback by the sight, like she was having second thoughts.
"I haven't had sex in years, since my divorce. Please be gentle with me."
"No," Ms. Cortez replied.
There was no gentleness. No mercy. Samantha was made to get on all fours on the bed. Ms. Cortez was behind her. Pounding away. Thrusting deep. It made the client's sagging breasts sway with each push, waving back and forth from that prone position.
Eventually the client was told to lay on her back while Ms. Cortez got on top to resume fucking. Ms. Cortez spit into the wet pussy for extra lubrication, and when they had sex for several minutes, she spit into the client's mouth as well, while mauling the breasts with her hands.
The moans turned into screams which turned into cries. Because this was a high-end apartment building, the walls seemed adequate in containing the noise.
Eventually, the client went completely limp, saliva running down her cheeks, a wet stain in the center of the bed, tears running down her face.
"Me encanta hacer llorar a las mujeres blancas."