The Francisco Seven [multiple celebrities] [complete]

[Cindylover1969]

"Yes, ma'am!" Jaime cackled, pulling the strap back. "Saying what I want to hear ain't gonna save you - you cost me one of my best weapons, Itty Bitty, and that can't go unpunished. I had that for nine years, and that's one year for each lash. And it's gonna HURT... you make a sound and I add another lash, clear?"
Hayden noted how hard Jaime was gripping the end of the belt; she had definitely done stuff like this before. Inside she was sweating, but outside she eyed the robber and nodded.
WHACK!
It was like the Flash with this one; one second Jaime had been standing with the belt out, the next it had cracked across Hayden's breasts, stinging her nipples and flying off her body like a snake. The pain was sharp and fast, but the reporter didn't say a word, even though her body jerked under the impact.
CRACK!
Jaime slammed the strap harder this time, bringing it straight down Hayden's left breast. This time there was a small red line starting to develop, made redder by the next crack. Hayden was shaking, but even though her nipples were stinging she didn't make a peep.
The cracks and slaps echoed through the room as Jaime continued to beat Hayden's chest, leaving red hot straplines decorating her breasts; the tiny blonde could have just grabbed the belt and fought back, but that wouldn't have played well for either of them. Hayden's teeth weren't as clenched as Jaime's, who was putting her heart and soul into each and every blow. The way her eyes were lighting up showed she would have happily continued until Hayden began to bleed...
"And we're DONE!" Jaime had reached nine times, and immediately dropped the belt, gazing down on the supine Hayden with her crimson-tinged breasts, nipples swollen a tiny bit with the blows. They'd be a little warmer and more sensitive, but they were intact. And Hayden had not made a sound.
"Like that?"
"Not supposed to LIKE it," the reporter said, playing the role to the hilt. "I deserved it."
"Damn right, hobbit. And if I couldn't get you to shout one way, I'm gonna get it another. Get up on the bed."
"Face up or face down?" Hayden asked as she got up on the bed.
"Face up. I had a great time looking at that teacher I fucked, so why mess with a good thing?" Jaime picked up the belt, and used it to tie Hayden's wrists to the bedstead. Hard.
"You're not gonna be wanting the redhead after this," she smiled, rubbing Jaime with one of her calves. The robber was shocked to find herself wanting to gently run a hand through the reporter's tresses... uh-uh, this was about Jaime. It was ALWAYS about Jaime. No arguments.
Jaime straddled Hayden, her hair falling onto the reporter's face as she bent down and kissed her. Hayden responded at once, their tongues intertwining briefly. Jaime's arms slid under the reporter's

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back as if to pull her closer, and they stayed there, their lips together as the robber eased herself down with the strap-on targeted on Hayden's box.
"You love this, don't you? But I ain't doing this for you..." Jaime reminded her, prodding Hayden's slit. Damn, she was slick - the geisha girl must have turned her on hard. Little pre-show for the main event, anyway. Jaime started to push it into the reporter, a bit at a time - in a way she wished this reporter was made of weaker stuff because the way the wimps' eyes widened when it was up them... but no, this girl had her eyes and was moaning, even opening her legs a little wider.
Jaime started to drive it further inside, loving the hot dampness of Lois Lane's inner walls around the stick. And now the girl was starting to thrust back; all the way. The more Hayden pumped, the more Jaime pumped, the more she liked it. She thrust it all the way into Hayden so that their pussy hairs were touching - "EEEEEEAAAIII!" Hayden gasped, moving her tight body under Jaime.
"I ain't nobody's bitch, dwarf," Jaime hissed in Hayden's ear. "You're mine."
"You have GOT to start watching better movies," the reporter smiled between gasps, and thrust towards Jaime as her upraised legs began to wrap around the robber's back.
This time it was Jaime's turn to widen her eyes... her device was the kind that slid back and forth with her movements, so she could please herself - but that thing had poked a bit further than she'd planned. Or it was just her imagination. Yeah... she shoved it harder, clenching her teeth and waiting for Hayden to start to give in the way every single girl (and the odd guy) she had poked with this eventually did.
What the FUCK? It was poking back again! And it was stronger that time... Jaime started to pull back, thinking that she was just being heady from banging that juicy little kindergarten teacher.
When she felt the device actually pull ITSELF back a little, Jaime's eyes gaped. And when it pushed forward back into her, the robber almost let Hayden go... the reporter was holding Jaime around the waist and back, and had Jaime been able to put her finger inside Hayden's pussy she would have been amazed at how tight it was. How very, very tight.
"You the kind to fire pingpong balls?" the small blonde said amiably as her pussy muscles tightened around Jaime's strap-on harder than Miss Pressly could ever have managed or imagined, and began to jerk upwards, coring it back up Jaime. "That ain't my party trick - anyone can do it. But this..."
Jaime could not believe this was happening; she was used to getting fun from her own strap-on, but no matter how hard she tried to push back, Hayden pumped back harder. She should have known someone this hard to control in the van would be trouble, but not THIS much trouble... and the worst thing about it was, the fucking hobbit looked as if she did this all the time. That had to be adamantium the slut had in her.
No... the worst thing about it was that Jaime was actually liking it; at least Boobs Leggerson looked like she wanted to puke every time the safecracker bragged about fucking her. Little by little she struggled less and less, allowing the movement of her device to go from one cunt to the other, and wanting to strangle Hayden more and more... but it just felt so fucking good.

[Cindylover1969]

"I... ain't YOUR bitch..." Hayden panted, her muscles tautened and her pussy boiling as she gripped the strap-on, coring it into Jaime. "You're... mine..."
"I'm..."
"You want all of this? Then say it..."
"I'm... your bitch..." Jaime spat, loving how her cunt was feeling but hating the words.
"Say it... like you mean it, and NO NICKNAMES," the reporter whispered tensely, pumping ever harder, her butt almost wearing through the mattress.
"I'm... YOUR BITCH!" Jaime Pressly shouted, gripping Hayden fiercely as she gave in. "I AM YOUR BITCH, HAYDEN PANETTIERE, AND I HATE IT! I HATE IT!!!"
Jaime felt the end of the strap-on pump its juice into the two women as she screamed out her admission; that was the final touch, to remind them of who had really fucked who. For once that little fillip was like she'd been on the receiving end. And that, to make it worse, was the last time it could be used before she had to reload it. She was glowing, but she was also so angry she could hardly move from atop Hayden.
"You little WHORE," she hissed.
"You're welcome," Hayden smiled as Jaime climbed off her, trying hard to rationalise what had just happened.
"You are one piece of work, you know that?" the robber continued, removing the strap-on in disgust. "First I lose a gun, then you go and fuck me with my own toy."
"Girls just wanna have fun," Hayden cooed. "Now that was a GOOD movie. Bit before my time, but..."
"Cram it, Smurfette."
"You don't think someone here heard you go 'I'M YOUR BITCH, HAYDEN PANETTIERE'? I wish I had my camera here... I'm not scared of you, Saline Tits. I never was."
Jaime's eyes narrowed. "You don't ever call me that or ANYTHING other than Jaime or Miss Pressly again, Halfpint. Not if you wanna get out of this alive." She unbuckled Hayden's hands, glaring at her all the time, and headed for the door.
Giving her the same look she'd given JoAnna, the humiliated robber said "This ain't over," and left the reporter alone.
Hayden planted a kiss on her fingertips, placed it on her own pussy, and put her dress back on. And ignored the phone nestled safely inside it, still with Troian's unread message.
* * * * * * * * * *
Lycan Hollowman was one of the larger law firms in San Francisco, which meant that while their office hours might have officially ended at 5pm, they actually worked late into the night. This was

[Cindylover1969]

especially true for prominent members of the law firm, looking to possibly add their name onto the side of the building as a partner in the firm.
Reiko Aylesworth was well on her way towards that process, judging from the track record Kristen Bell had been able to look up during the drive over. She’d handled a lot of major cases for the firm lately, defending San Francisco’s biggest names against some sticky charges. She’d kept Freddie Prinze Jr. out of jail, despite the well known playboy ramming his Mercedes into three police cars during a high speed chase, got the manslaughter charged against Nick Swisher dropped to disorderly conduct, despite him being caught redhanded with the murder weapon, and even managed to get notorious party boy Justin Timberlake’s rape sentence slimmed down to time served - all of the 23 minutes he’d spent in a jail cell after being first arrested. In the past few years, Aylesworth had developed a bit of a miracle worker reputation that made her feared by prosecutors and loathed by judges - but beloved by high priced clients.
Which made her taking Emma Roberts’ case odd. Roberts had never contacted her, and Aylesworth had worked on retainer with no name attached to the file.
“This reeks of cover-up,” Kristen muttered as Tammin Sursok pulled the car into Lychan Hollowman’s parking garage, the nighttime lighting leaving the place looking orange and grubby.
“You think the Roberts family paid Aylesworth to get Emma off?” Tammin asked.
“Only thing that makes sense,” Kristen sighed. “Except, the timing doesn’t work.”
“What do you mean?”
“Eric Roberts was already dead, his car crash ruled accidental, though it’s pretty common knowledge that someone cut his brake lines before he went flying over that curve into the Pacific. And while her Aunt Julia was still in charge of the Roberts crime family, she was literally shot to death 3 hours after Emma’s arrest. Considering she was in Greece at the time, she either made some really quick international phone calls, or someone else paid for Emma’s court costs.”
“It could’ve been someone else in the organization, though,” Tammin remarked as the two women got out of the car and headed towards the entrance. “Maybe even something set up so that when family members got into legal trouble, the process to hire lawyers starts automatically.”
“Yeah, that’s certainly a possibility,” Kristen admitted, “But it just doesn’t feel right to me.”
“Well, that case is dead anyway - tried and finished, no double jeopardy allowed, so there’s no point worrying about it, is there?”
“Maybe,” Kristen said. She didn’t say any more to Tammin, but she couldn’t help but think that there was more to that story, and that it might even connect to the bank heist earlier today.
She shook her head. All this looking for the mysterious Rhona had her seeing conspiracies everywhere now.
They were met at the front door by a security guard who tried to turn them away, but relented when Kristen flashed her FBI ID. It took another ten minutes to hunt down Miss Aylesworth in the

[Cindylover1969]

building, time the guard spent trying very hard to flirt with Tammin. He might have made some progress had Reiko Aylesworth not shown up when she did.
“Steven, you said there were FBI agents here?”
“Y-yes, ma’am. Agents Bell and Sursok,” the guard said, motioning towards Kristen and Tammin - in the wrong order.
Aylesworth turned right to Kristen. “Listen, if this is about Jim Parsons’ cocaine trial, I promise you, my client WILL be in the courtroom Thursday. He’s still got his locator bracelet on, he just wanted to take his yacht out for a spin and-”
Kristen held up her hand to silence the lawyer before she could ramble on much more. “We’re not here about that, Miss Aylesworth. We’re here about another of your former clients.”
“Which one?” Aylesworth said, rolling her eyes. “Did Johnny Depp break his parole again? Hugh Laurie caught with another cross-dressing prostitute?” She looked back and forth between Kristen and Tammin. “Please tell me David Caruso didn’t beat up ANOTHER underage woman who wouldn’t sleep with him. I can NOT get him off for that a THIRD time-”
“We’re here about Emma Roberts.”
“Who?” Reiko said, looking confused.
“Emma Roberts; you had her as a client two years ago when she was caught breaking into a safe at 4321 No View Lane.”
“Doesn’t ring a bell,” Aylesworth said.
“She was naked at the time,” Tammin offered.
“OH! Her, yeah, I remember her now. Is she in trouble again?”
“We think she might have been involved in the bank heist at San Francisco Union Bank this morning,” Kristen said. “You wouldn’t happen to have any idea where she is?”
“I didn’t even remember her name a moment ago,” Aylesworth remarked. “But come on back up to my office, maybe we can find some information on her.”
“We’d appreciate any help we can get,” Kristen said as Reiko led them towards the elevator.
“You’ve got a lovely building here, Miss Aylesworth,” Tammin added.
“Thanks. It’ll look better when my name is on the side of the building, but for now it’ll do.”
“Things going that well for you?” Kristen asked.
“I bring in my fair share of wealthy clients,” Reiko said as the elevator doors swung open. The three women stepped in, and were quickly lifted up towards the upper levels.
“You rattled off an impressive list of current clients, you’re certain Emma Roberts isn’t one of them?” Kristen asked.

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“If she is, I’ve not been informed,” Aylesworth replied. “But then my docket is rather full at the moment, if she or her people contacted my offices, it’s possible we put a junior lawyer on the case.”
“Even though you personally handled her case two years ago?”
“I wasn’t a senior attorney at the firm then,” Reiko said slowly.
“But you were dealing with important cases at the time,” Kristen pressed. “And Emma’s case seemed too small at the time for someone of your status.”
“Again, Agent Sursok-” Aylesworth started to say.
“I’m Agent Bell, she’s Agent Sursok,” Kristen cut in.’
“Agent Bell, then,” Aylesworth corrected. “You seem to forget, I barely remember Emma Roberts, and if she hadn’t been stark naked when she was captured, I still wouldn’t remember her. I don’t see why you keep pressing about a case that was CLOSED, what was it, two years ago?”
“We’re just curious as to why you even took her case,” Tammin said, trying to ease some tension. “After all, you had higher profile clients who brought in far more money.”
“And you really want your name on the side of the building,” Kristen added.
Reiko took a deep breath, as if to steady herself. “The last time I was pressed this hard in an elevator, Agent Bell, the other woman was sucking on my clit and I was on my way to a world-class orgasm. Unless you’re offering to try and duplicate that effort, I’d appreciate you laying off the 20 Questions.” Aylesworth ran her eyes up and down Kristen’s body once blatantly. “Though if you are offering, I believe I’d accept.”
Kristen might have been tempted - Reiko was ten flavors of gorgeous all wrapped into one. But she was on the hunt at the moment, and wasn’t going to back down just for a shot at some pretty pussy.
“Or are you implying I’m somehow a suspect in this crime?” Aylesworth said.
“Absolutely NOT,” Tammin said quickly, stepping between the two other women. “But we think you may have a way of contacting a suspect, and we’d appreciate all the help we can get.”
Before Reiko could respond, the elevator doors opened, and the three women stepped out onto the executive floor.
“My office is this way,” Reiko said calmly, leading the two FBI agents down the posh hallway.
“How come our offices don’t look this good?” Tammin muttered.
“Because Uncle Sam doesn’t pay as well as the rich, famous, and legally troubled,” Kristen muttered back.
There was a charming looking young lady at the desk in front of Reiko’s office - one Isabel Lucas, if the nameplate on her desk was to be believed. “Something wrong, Miss Aylesworth?” she asked as the three women approached.

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“Nothing we can’t handle, Isabel. Could you please look up a case I worked two years ago involving an Emma Roberts? The FBI would like an address, if she’s not currently a client.”
“I’ll double-check the current case dockets, too, Miss Aylesworth.”
“Thank you, Isabel,” Reiko said. “Agents Bell, Sursok, if you’ll follow me?”
Reiko led them into her office proper, which if the outer hallways had been posh, the inner office was positively palatial, all silver and white and dark woods that seemed to radiate importance and power in a way that Kristen couldn’t name, but could certainly feel. When Reiko Aylesworth sat down behind the giant oaken desk, it was quite clear who was meant to be in charge in this room.
But then, Kristen Bell never much cared about who was in charge.
“So you’re certain you’ve had no contact with Emma Roberts recently?”
“I have not had any contact with her since the case I defended her in ended,” Reiko said flatly. “If she has been in contact with my offices, I’ve not been informed at all.”
“May I ask, who hired you for Miss Roberts on her last case?”
“You can ask, but that information is privileged. I cannot divulge that unless you have a warrant.” She raised an eyebrow at Kristen. “Do you?”
“Not yet,” Kristen muttered.
“Then let’s just wait and see what Miss Lucas brings us, shall we?”
The room was silent for a long moment after that, with none of the girls seemingly willing to break the quiet now around them. The silence, however, did nothing to ease the tension in the room.
Finally there was a buzz from the intercom on Reiko’s desk. “I have the information, Miss Aylesworth.”
“Please, bring it in, Isabel,” Reiko said.
Two seconds later, the door to the office opened and Isabel Lucas walked in. No longer with a desk in front of her, Kristen was set to marvel at both the incredibly short skirt Isabel was wearing, and the equally incredible pair of legs jutting out from said skirt. Isabel leaned over Reiko’s desk far enough that Kristen could see she was wearing a thong, and deposited a small manila file folder in front of her boss.
“Thank you, Isabel,” Reiko said with a lascivious smile that made Kristen quite certain Reiko at least had designs of sleeping with her secretary, if she wasn’t already doing so. Kristen couldn’t blame her.
“It seems that Miss Roberts has not contacted us in the last few days to become a client again, so her information is most likely not up-to-date.”
“We’d still like it,” Kristen said.
“Of course,” Reiko said. “Isabel, why don’t you take Agent… Sursok was it?”

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“Yes, ma’am,” Tammin replied.
“Why don’t you take Agent Sursok down to the records room and pull up the old contact information on Miss Roberts.”
“Yes, Miss Aylesworth,” Isabel said. “Right this way, Agent Sursok,” she added, motioning Tammin towards the door. Tammin traded looks with Kristen, making sure they both knew they were being separated on purpose, then left with the assistant.
“Are you really going to make me get a warrant for the information I want?” Kristen asked Reiko frankly once they were alone.
“Absolutely, Agent Bell. We follow the letter of the law here at Lycan Hollowman.”
“I’m sure,” Kristen said, her tone making it clear she believe the truth was exactly the opposite.
* * * * * * * * * *
“It must be exciting being an FBI agent,” Isabel Lucas said as she guided Tammin Sursok through a series of cubicles one floor down from Reiko Aylesworth’s office.
“Only if you find getting coffee for everyone else exciting,” Tammin muttered.
“Oh,” Isabel said. “So it’s not that different from my job.”
“And since you’re here this late, I guess the hours aren’t any better.”
“I guess there aren’t any glamorous jobs out there any more, are there?”
“I don’t know, you look pretty good,” Tammin said, allowing her eyes to go up and down Isabel’s body, focusing on the way her tight skirt hugged her ass as the other girl walked. “You must be doing better than I am in the paycheck department to afford outfits like that.”
“They aren’t cheap, that’s for sure,” Isabel replied. “Not that you look bad in what you’re wearing.”
“Thanks,” Tammin said.
“I always thought lady cops were hot,” Isabel remarked. “Have you ever used your handcuffs during sex?”
“Ah, no,” Tammin lied. She’d had her own hands handcuffed behind her back while blowing a senior agent twice, but Isabel didn’t need to know that.
“Too bad,” Isabel said. She was quiet for a moment, stopping in front of a locked room. She pulled out her keycard and opened the door, ushering Tammin in first. Tammin found herself in a long hallway, lined with file cabinets. Huge file cabinets, taller than either she or Isabel.
“These are all your records?” Tammin asked, a bit daunted.
“All the contact ones, yeah. There’s probably a few hundred out and about with individual lawyers and their aides, but I’m sure Miss Roberts is in here.”

[Cindylover1969]

“So, what, alphabetical order by last name?” Tammin asked.
“Exactly,” Isabel said, leading Tammin down the hallway, stopping two-thirds of the way down in front of a cabinet labeled Ri-Roc. “Should be in here. Stand back please,” she added. Tammin stepped back, and Lucas pulled open the cabinet for quite a ways. Tammin actually had to step back again so Isabel could open it far enough to get to “Roberts, Emma.”
“Here we go,” Isabel said, opening the file and glancing at it quickly. She closed it, then put it behind her back. “Can I ask you something?”
“What?” Tammin asked, feeling her cackles rise - Isabel clearly wanted something, and she was now holding evidence Tammin and Kristen needed.
“If I let you in on a secret, would you do something for me?”
“Depends,” Tammin said. “What’s the secret, and what’s the favor?”
“I know something about Emma Roberts that Miss Aylesworth isn’t likely to tell you and your partner.”
“She’s not really my partner-” Tammin said, but Isabel kept going.
“If you let me live out my little cop fantasy, right here, right now, I’ll tell you and as long as you don’t tell Miss Aylesworth, no one will ever need to know.”
“Your cop fantasy?” Tammin asked carefully.
“Handcuff me, frisk me, then fuck me,” Isabel said, her voice suddenly husky and filled with desire. “I’ve always wanted a strong cop lady, like yourself, to read me my rights as she’s banging my pussy.”
Tammin couldn’t help herself, she licked her lips. Isabel was a walking wet dream, all legs and gorgeous hair and lips almost as full as Tammin’s. And if Isabel had information that would lead to the bank robbers…
“Please, officer?” Isabel asked, pouting a bit and batting her eyelashes in an attempt to sway some sympathy, or perhaps seduce Tammin a little more.
“You swear you have information on this Roberts chick.”
Isabel slid in close to Tammin, to the point that their lips were almost touching as she spoke. “I swear, officer.”
Tammin took a deep breath, then quickly grabbed Isabel’s arm and spun her around. “Face the wall,” she said, using her best commanding voice. Isabel gasped in surprise as Tammin shoved her up against the file cabinets. “Arms on the top of the cabinets. Now!”
Isabel did as she was told, but she couldn’t help cooing a little bit. Tammin sighed. She wasn’t much for role play, but if it got information they needed to solve this case, she could pretend.

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Stepping up behind the administrative assistant, Tammin kicked her feet apart some. “Spread your legs,” she ordered. “Wider!” Isabel moaned as she complied. “Do NOT look back at me, keep your eyes on the wall.”
“Yes, officer,” Isabel purred delightfully.
“Don’t smile,” Tammin snapped, reaching into her pocket, she pulled out her sunglasses. It was far too dark inside for them, but she thought they’d help with the fantasy. And maybe keep Isabel from seeing the slight twinkle Tammin could feel in her own eyes. This was more fun that getting clues to a major bank robbery should be.
Sunglasses in place, Tammin began the pat down, starting standard at Isabel’s arms, and working her way down her entire shapely frame until she reached the girl’s bare legs. Tammin had a bit of a thing for legs, and she enjoyed running her hands down Isabel’s flawless skin. Oh yes, this was far more fun than it should be.
Reaching the bottom of Isabel’s legs, the FBI agent switched to the insides, and again felt an increasingly naughty thrill as she ran her hands back up towards Isabel’s crotch. She moved slowly, making no effort to hide the fact that she was basically molesting the other woman with increasing intensity. She reached the bottom of Isabel’s short skirt and just kept moving up the inside of her thighs until she reached the barely-covered promised land.
“Mmmmm,” Isabel moaned as Tammin’s hands reached her panty-clad crotch.
“You’re reacting a little too well to that, Miss,” Tammin said. “I may have to do a closer examination of that.”
“Oh, NO, officer! Please, I’m innocent, I SWEAR!” Isabel said theatrically, practically swooning at Tammin’s touch.
“Quiet, you, or I’ll add resisting arrest to your charges,” Tammin said, patting Isabel’s crotch aggressively, smiling despite herself at the wetness she could feel through the hot young blonde’s panties. Isabel moaned again, but Tammin ignored that, instead pulling aside the front panel of Isabel’s thong and running her finger roughly over the other girl’s slit.
“Aahh… wha-?” Isabel’s moan stopped short as Tammin stood up behind her, leaving the other girl wanting more. Tammin instead reached up and took one of Isabel’s hands and pulled it roughly down behind her back, locking it into one of her handcuffs.
“You’re under arrest,” Tammin said huskily into Isabel’s ear. “You have the right to remain silent,” the FBI agent went on, reaching for Isabel’s other hand. “Anything you say can and WILL be used against you in a court of law.”
“Ooooh,” Isabel groaned in delight as Tammin locked her other hand into the cuffs. If Tammin had been between her legs now, she would’ve seen that Isabel was practically gushing.
“You have the right to an attorney,” Tammin went on, making sure the cuffs were locked. “If you cannot afford one, one will be provided for you.” With that, she spun Isabel around and looked at the young legal assistant right in the eyes.

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“And you have the right to eat my pussy right here, right now.”
“Oh, god YES!” Isabel cried out as Tammin lowered the other girl to her knees, then hefted her own skirt up, exposing her own simple white thong that was just starting to get wet. Once Isabel was on her knees, Tammin reached down and yanked her panties down to her own knees, leaving them hanging just below where the end of her skirt would fall, but giving Isabel plenty of room to get her mouth up between Tammin’s legs and start licking the agent’s pussy.
Isabel wasted no time, and needed no direction. Her pouty little lips sought out Tammin’s snatch and began eagerly feasting on the juices just starting to flow out of them. Tammin’s free hand, the one not holding her skirt up, dropped to Isabel’s hands and quickly entwined her fingers into the mop of blonde beauty, pressing Isabel closer to the mark.
Tammin knew they didn’t have much time, and they’d probably wasted too much of it already on this little police game, but if Isabel could provide ANY kind of evidence, Tammin would take it. She needed SOMETHING to prove she was more than just the FBI’s resident oral sex expert.
Speaking of, Isabel was proving she was quite skilled in cunnilingus herself, massaging Tammin’s clit and slit with her tongue. It had been a while since Tammin had anyone else go down on HER, and she was very tempted to just revel in the sensation. It felt so GOOD, like Isabel’s tongue was impossibly long and capable of hitting spots inside the FBI agent that no other tongue ever had.
Tammin’s pulse jumped up, and she began breathing heavily at once, as Isabel worked her magic over Tammin’s private parts. So good was Isabel with her tongue, Tammin suspected she wouldn’t be waiting long before orgasm overtook her. Already, she could feel the pressure building up in her crotch, signaling the impending explosion of sexual energy.
Tammin didn’t fight it. Indeed, she used her hand to shove Isabel’s head deeper into her crotch, speeding up the process.
Isabel was on to something, Tammin thought. She spent all her time taking orders all day long, and none of the sexual partners - male or female - that she’d had in the last few years had ever asked her what she wanted. But here, in this hallway filled with file cabinets, Tammin Sursok was in complete control of the sex she was having. It was her hand on the back of Isabel’s head, directing the other woman’s mouth over Tammin’s clit. Usually, it was Tammin on her knees, servicing either a cock or a pussy. This was a luxury she wasn’t used to, and she rather liked it.
It was that thought - that she was the one in charge - that brought upon Tammin’s orgasm more than Isabel’s excellent tongue work. Tammin’s eyes squeezed shut, her mouth parted a bit, her lips forming what everyone who’d ever seen her climax inevitably called a perfect little “o,” and her knees buckled a bit as orgasm shot through her body, sending her staggering back against one of the file cabinets.
“Whoa,” Isabel said, looking up from her knees as Tammin regained control of her body. “That was SOOOO hot.”
“Yeah, yeah it was,” Tammin said, fighting to regain her balance. As she got back situated on her heels, her eyes settled upon the still handcuffed Isabel, kneeling in the middle of the floor, her mouth and chin showing the juicy proof that she’d been the one to get Tammin off. It was one of the hottest sights Tammin Sursok had ever seen.

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“Get up,” Tammin said, moving forward and helping Isabel to her feet while looking about the room. There, not too far away, at the end of the hallway, was a desk. It was exactly what Tammin was looking for, and she started to drag Isabel over towards it by her still cuffed hands. It wasn’t easy - Tammin’s panties were still around her knees, and they impeded her steps, though not as much as dropping them down to her ankles would. She could’ve pulled them up, but she was in too much of a hurry. The two women reached the desk, and Tammin laid Isabel over the top of it, bending her at the waist and raising her exquisite ass up perfectly in her skirt.
“You should never, ever, EVER cover this,” Tammin said, running her hands over Isabel’s skirt-covered cheeks once before lifting the offending garment up and exposing the thong that separated Isabel’s most private areas from the cool air of the hallway.
“Ooh, Officer, what are you doing?” Isabel asked as Tammin yanked the thong out of the way.
Tammin remembered to get back into character at that point. “Cavity search,” she said before jabbing a pair of fingers into Isabel’s pussy.
Isabel Lucas creamed herself right then and there, surprising both girls. Still, Tammin made sure to keep sliding her fingers in and out of the little legal aid as she squirmed atop the desk, her fingers stretching out behind her cuffed wrists, making sure Isabel really enjoyed her climax.
“That was SOOOO amazing,” Isabel said when she finally came down, and Tammin was able to extract her soaked fingers.
“We need to hurry back,” Tammin said. “Come on, we passed a bathroom on the way here. You can tell me what you know while we clean up.”
* * * * * * * * * *
“THAT was hardly worth the effort,” Kristen Bell muttered as they left Lychan Hollowman half an hour later. Tammin kept her mouth shut until they were clear of the property.
“I know who hired Reiko Aylesworth to defend Emma Roberts,” Tammin said.
“You what?” Kristen asked, nearly hitting the breaks. “How?”
“Isabel, the legal aid,” Tammin said.
“I thought you smelled like sex when you got back,” Bell said. “I’m impressed, BJ. It won’t hold in court, but it’s more than we were going to get from Aylesworth herself.”
“Aylesworth was hired by a local real estate company called R. M. Housing.”
“A real estate company? Why on earth would they hire a hot shot lawyer to get a cat burglar out of a trespassing charge?”
“Isabel didn’t know, but I’ll start looking into them as soon as we get back.”
“Good work, BJ,” Kristen said. “We might make an actual FBI agent out of you yet.”
* * * * * * * * * *

[Cindylover1969]

“You smell like sex,” Reiko Aylesworth said as she stared out her window, watching the car carrying the two FBI agents away.
“It didn’t take that much to get the pouty-lipped one to give it up,” Isabel said, coming to stand next to her employer. “When we finished, she took the bait, just like you said she would.”
“Excellent, just like she wanted,“ Reiko smiled. “So now the FBI knows the name of the shell company used to pay us. That should keep them running in circles for another day or two.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Go ahead and get Miss Mitra on the phone, Isabel,” Reiko said. “And then I hope you haven’t worn out your tongue. I’m feeling the need of a little attention myself before I go home tonight.
“Of course, Miss Aylesworth,” Isabel said, licking her lips at the thought of eating out Reiko Aylesworth.
* * * * * * * * *
"You look like you could use some company this evening," said the hopeful young man.
"Trust me, you can't give me what I want," Troian Bellisario laughed. "I need a woman."
"Just ain't my night," the man groaned, contenting himself with watching Troian's ass as she walked away. Whoever she was meeting was going to be in for a treat...
Gently putting off straight guys had been the highpoint of Troian's day since she left home; by the time she finally got back to the station - buses + traffic = long journey through hell - it had been time for the main news, and the bitch was back and on set and therefore off limits. The brunette had chosen to leave; avoiding the TV reduced the chances of kicking it in once Ashley Benson's face appeared.
Going home was out of the question (and not only because she couldn't face another phone call from Hayden's worried parents), so there was only one other option; a few questions around Channel 7 established that Ashley was heading home to relax. Even if Ashley had been planning to go out on the lash (translation: hit the bars - that was another saying Troian had gotten from her English lover) Troian would have been waiting for her anyway... glad that at least the last straight guy hadn't touched her, she got on the next bus.  Ashley might be settled in when she arrived.
For the umpteenth time she checked her phone – even though she knew that Hayden was unlikely to be able to use her own phone, she was hopeful that maybe she might still have gotten a message out. Nope, still nothing. Troian started to tap out another one, before she reconsidered; maybe someone might be with her. And maybe Hayden’s phone might not be on silent... no, she’d wait a little. At least until after she’d had an exclusive, one-on-one interview with Channel 7 star reporter Ashley Benson.

[Cindylover1969]

And there it was, Villa di Benson. Situated miles from the bus stop, thank you kind fate. Still, the walk up the road and then up the driveway gave Troian plenty of time to think over what she’d say to Ashley – and to convince herself that punching the snarky cow in the face on opening the door was a bad move. One thing about taking so long to get there from the station was that her subject had had more than enough time to get home – the sounds of music were getting louder the closer Troian got to the door.
The brunette grimaced when she recognised what was playing; the girl wasn’t really kicking back with songs from "Glee," was she? Add hearing problems to the list. Wishing that Ashley's taste in soundtracks ran closer to Hayden's - even if her beloved never let a Harry Potter movie go by without bitching that they should've gotten John Williams back - Troian rang the doorbell and hoped it could be heard above Lea Michele's wailing.
A muttered "Ah, fuck" came from within as "Run Joey Run" was paused. A few seconds later, Ashley opened the door and snapped on a welcoming smile, not quick enough for Troian not to notice the resentful look on her face.
"Oh, hi Troian!" the blonde said cheerfully.
"Hi," the brunette replied with a wave of the hand. "I know this is kind of out of the blue..."
"You're just lucky I was in; just wanted a quiet night at home after all the stuff today... nothing new about our girl yet, but the cops say they'll let us know the second we get anything. Come on in, Troian; how about a drink?"
"Well, I really just came by for a few moments."
"You're a guest, and you're one of Channel 7's," Ashley said sincerely. "One won't hurt."
"Nice tunes," Troian lied as she entered the lair. "Couldn't help hearing outside."
"Yeah, I do keep it loud sometimes," the blonde admitted, hoping Troian was impressed at how well laid-out and stuffed with accessories her house was. "Anyway, what brings you here and what would you like?"
"A Coke is fine, and it's really the robbery I need to ask you about."
"You and everyone at work," Ashley laughed, going into the kitchen. "I don't have anything to tell you that I didn't say on the air. It was all rush; as soon as I got back from my interview I had to dash out again down to the Union Bank."
"And now they think Hayden's in on it as well, can you believe that?" Troian groaned.
"How so?"
"Some FBI agent dragged me down for a chat; they think that it's weird she was down there so early and no one saw her in the bank," the brunette continued, taking the Coke Ashley proffered and swigging. "Ah, nothing like the real thing."

[Cindylover1969]

"I know she's not loaded, but that does sound kind of weird," Ashley agreed, sitting next to her colleague. "Why'd they think that?"
"We all know Hayden got a call telling her something was up, and she was out of there like *that.* The thing is, it wasn't through the station's lines... it was sent straight to her cellphone."
"Is that right," Ashley mused, eyeing the brunette.
"Yeah, that's right. Like someone WANTED her to be there."
"Any thoughts, Nancy Drew?"
"Well... I told the Feds the same thing, and they checked her records. And so did I."
"And...? Don't keep me in suspense, girl!" Ashley's eyes were gleaming.
"Hayden got two calls that morning; one was from her mother. And guess who the ONLY other person to ring her was?"
"Taylor Lautner?" Ashley said with a grin.
"You," Troian said, without.
Ashley's face returned to how she looked before she opened the door. "This better be a joke, Bellisario..."
Troian pointed to her face. "This is how I look when The Suite Life On Deck is on - I'm not laughing. Maybe you changed your voice so she wouldn't have known it was you, and maybe you fixed it so it would come up 'Unknown,' but you've got several cell numbers registered and you used one of them."
"Oh, come on. Why would I want her to--"
"Don't play games with me, Benson. You hate Hayden like you hate Doonesbury; you knew she was taking limelight from you--"
"You paranoid little dyke!" Ashley shouted. "Yeah, okay, I don't like the competition - and yeah, I said dyke, I know you and that damn garden gnome are a couple... how'd you like me now?"
"I don't like you at all," Troian muttered.
"But how the fuck was I supposed to know there'd be a robbery down there?"
"How the fuck do you have all THIS on what Channel 7 pays you?!" Troian snapped back, waving an arm around the Bloomingdale's showroom Ashley called home. "And who's Rhona Mitra?"
"Why are you asking me? Do I look like Stephen Hawking?"
"That's another thing - I told the Feds you called her, and they said someone called Rhona Mitra called her. They were like they won the Lottery or something... is that why you're so tricked out around here? Is that why you got Hayden out of the way? She helps you, you help her?"