Advanced Sociology

I don't really remember anything until about ten the next morning when the maid knocked on my hotel door (I hadn't put out the "Do Not Disturb" sign). I yelled for her to go away, and Craig followed that with the same instruction in Spanish. After I rolled off of him when we saw the soaked sheets, and that my clear liquid discharge mixed with his cum had caked onto all four of our thighs, we both started laughing uncontrollably.

After a nice erotic shower and room service breakfast Craig left for his 1 p.m. meeting. My mind was all over the place. For the first time in years I didn't feel that I was in real control of the situation. I actually had to review my notes to see what information I had to try to weasel out of Craig.

There was another social event that night – a more formal one – that I was going to go to with Craig as his "girlfriend." While still not really his "girlfriend" I was now certainly a legitimate fuck buddy. I dressed again so as to not disappoint the male government officials, but the ones who had been at the event the night before had obviously been reamed out by their wives and now were primarily ogling me from a distance. Those who had not been there the previous evening were hanging on my every word and gesture. I tried getting more information from the government officials, and confirmed what I already knew, but I still needed those two bits from Craig.

After the event as we rode back in the limo I told Craig "No goddamn game tonight. Either you come back with me right away, or you won't be fucking me again." It was an empty threat since I was still high as a result of the four orgasms from our previous encounter, but fortunately he didn't call my bluff, and the limo driver dropped both of us at my hotel.

Craig and I started our post-event evening with a delicious 69, where he brought me to orgasm again, then with another missionary position fuck where I squirted another cup of liquid from my Skene's gland. This was followed by him again waking me up in the middle of the night and me riding him to another squirting orgasm that – had it been an earthquake of the same intensity – would have leveled Santiago. Craig left about 9:30 a.m. and wanted me to meet him for lunch about 1 p.m.

I steeled myself emotionally as best I could the rest of the morning. I resolved that I was going to get past my euphoria and lust, and get the information I needed from Craig at lunch. It should be relatively easy since he had to have the same level of euphoria and lust that I had, and his guard would be down.

I was wrong. The luncheon was the most humiliating of my life. I used my best touches, attentive stares, eye batting, and other wiles to try and get Craig to reveal the last two bits of information. Just as I thought he was about to reveal the secrets he started laughing.

"What's so funny?"

"You are Trinity."

"Why is that?"

"You are so transparent. I know that you're working for another oil company to get information about our potential deal with the Chileans, and have known from the start. Actually it probably would have worked if I hadn't known, but since I do I find your attempts laughable."

"Then why in the hell did you invite me to the events."

"Though you're no Mata Hari, you are one truly fine piece of ass, and I sure wasn't going to pass up the chance to fuck you."

I know that I turned red. I threw my wine in his face, stormed out of the restaurant, got my stuff at the hotel, and was on the next plane back to NYC. I was seething the entire trip.

I had to tell my client I had failed – another humbling experience, and the first time since I started my clandestine work. Fortunately the information I had gotten from the Chileans was at least of some use to them, so I got expenses plus $100,000, not the jackpot I had been seeking though.

Even after my payday, I was still so pissed – and so intrigued by my new sexual experiences – that I went looking for a good fuck. Within two days from returning to NYC I hooked up with a very good looking young former client who always had the hots for me. While the sex was better than it had been in the past, I still didn't orgasm (though I faked it to make my former client feel good), which pissed me off even more.

A couple of days later I got messages on both my cell phone and land line from that asshole Craig saying he'd really like to get together to talk. Screw him! He could stick his thick uncut curved squirt-producing cock in a meat grinder for all I cared!

That was six years ago. For the past five years I have been happily married, and have two young kids. I have had sex with my husband every day he's been in town since we got married aside from a few weeks before and after each child delivery, and I have had earth-shattering orgasms virtually every time. I've squirted so much that it seems like the sheets are always in the laundry.

I have started a charity to help underprivileged kids using the money I made weaseling information out of corporate executives, since I don't need the money. My husband was promoted from the head of the legal department of a major oil company to CEO. Yeah, it is that former asshole, Craig.