Fletcher gets her to fulfill her mission

Fascinated, Fletcher watched what was going on in the other room via the huge screen of his smart tv. Kateshi had left the room to grab a drink, leaving Nancy behind in her own mess. The big, black hacker smirked in amusement. He had quite enjoyed the show. Not only was Nancy McKenna a gorgeous, curvy woman, with looks that put Hollywood actresses to shame, but it was also a delight to see her get knocked down a few pegs. Watching her get so utterly destroyed by a person she would not be caught dead with really helped to ease some of the frustrations Fletcher had accumulated since working with her. And the kid had done an excellent job!

It had been almost a minute since Kateshi had left the room and Nancy still barely recovered enough to stir slightly. She was still on her back, her head overhanging the edge of the bed with her all-but-dissolved ponytail touching the floor. Her legs were stretched out with her thighs spread in a most unladylike manner, giving Fletcher’s camera a perfect view of her pussy.

The huge geek chuckled as he remembered how cute, sleek and petite Nancy’s sex had looked earlier when he was treated to the sight of her inadvertent cameltoe. Well-groomed and her pussy lips demurely clamped together, it had been a piece of art, hidden beneath a thin layer of fabric.

Half an hour of a tattooed-up thug having his way with her, those associations weren’t the same. Nancy’s small slit was flushed red now, her labia swollen and gaping apart, granting a peek at her rich inner pink and gleaming in wetness. Now it looked less like some artsy photographer’s model’s vagina, but more like the cunt of some porn star coming off her shift. A screenshot of this was quickly saved in Fletcher’s folder. Surely, Nancy had a lot of male colleagues that were eager to trade favors to get their hands on such explicit pictures of Nancy McKenna’s well-used fuckhole…

While her pussy had been used properly, this paled in comparison to what Kateshi had done to the detective’s face. In fact, all Fletcher could see of Nancy’s stunning, exotic features on his camera was her mouth, those fat, juicy lips slightly agape as she slowly steadied her breathing. The rest, from her upper lip all the way to the hairline, was covered by a mask of her own drying spit and snot as well as Kateshi’s spunk. The layer was so thick that Fletcher could hardly make out the spectacular eyes underneath, which’s lids were sealed shut by the slimy mess. Even in all his years of watching hardcore porn, Fletcher struggled to remember ever seeing a slut so utterly defaced. He did not mind that it was Nancy who was now topping that list.

Nonetheless, there was business mixed in with all this raunchy pleasure. They still had to cover their tracks.

-

“Nancy!”

Nancy whimpered when she heard Fletcher’s voice in her ear.

“Nancy wake up! You can bask in your orgasm later! I need you to do your job for a minute!”

“Fuck you!” Nancy whispered hoarsely in reply. While she did not carry a mic she knew that the laptop was picking up everything. That traitorous motherfucker… she was going to kill him! Making fun of her in her peril…

She was slowly regaining her wits. Her entire body ached as she lay on the soft bed, but nothing was as damaged as her pride. The things she had done, the things that he had done to her… she felt her lips quiver and quickly, determinedly bit down on them. She would not cry!

It seemed that at least, whatever was in those pills was losing its effect on her as she felt her mind feel less sluggish. This, however, came at the drawback that she was fully aware that she had just been fucked, choked, slapped and made to cum by some rainbow-haired, millennial loser to the most humiliating, most intense orgasms of her life. Her pussy was still throbbing…

“Nancy, move your lazy ass!”

“You fucking piece of shit!” she snapped back at Fletcher’s nagging. Finally, she lifted her hands to her face, horrified at the utter mess she felt. Using her fingertips, she did her best to wipe her eyelids clean, whimpering at the disgusting feeling. Her eyelashes were glued together and it took a good bit of work until she was finally able to open them.

Succeeding she glared into the camera. “I fucking hate you!” she hissed at the man on the other end, venom in her voice. She then reached out, her fingers still numb and shaky as she pulled Fletcher’s USB drive from the port and after a moment’s pause for consideration, she dropped it into the small ceramic vase that sat on the nightstand next to it, eliminating the danger of being caught while simultaneously costing Fletcher 10 Dollars’ worth of equipment. Now all she had to do was to get out of here.