Melville took her to his room

Melville stopped in front a specific room, and gestured for her to enter. She entered a beautiful wood-framed study with a bar. Off to the side, she saw another room, with a bed and washroom, and several large closets. “So, Eric, is this your room?” Amanda inquired. “It is indeed, Amanda, let me pour you a drink.” “Vodka and tonic please,” she said while she met his glance and bit her lip. He seemed to like that. He handed her a drink and motioned for her to sit down on the dark leather couch. He sat in the leather chair across from her, on the other side of the coffee table.

“So, what can you tell me about THIS room,” Amanda asked still flirting. He gestured his finger for her to lean in closer. As she leaned in, the top of her dress gaped forward, and Melville was given an excellent view of her cleavage, most likely on purpose. “Well,” Melville whispered seductively, “This is where I bring female spies to interrogate them. Amanda almost dropped her glass. “I beg your pardon,” she said questioning, wondering when her cover could have possibly been blown. He held her gaze for a minute, and then said “Ah, I almost had you there, didn’t I!” Amanda breathed a sigh of relief, and replied, “you really did, I almost didn’t know whether to believe you or not.”

He got up and moved over to her couch, sitting on her left side. He turned partially to face her. Amanda brought her legs up on the couch next to her, curling them up. She turned to meet him. His eyes met hers, and then he glanced away, down towards the couch and the slit in her dress that had once again opened, revealing essentially all of her right leg, and now some of her left underneath. He nodded his head slowly, with an affirming “mmm.” He obviously liked what he saw, and Amanda loved that he did. She had him in the palm of her hand. She reached up with one arm to massage the back of his neck. This guy was all muscle, and boy was he tense; must be job stress. They burned through their first drinks, and Melville got up to get more. He passed by the stereo and put on some low R & B music, a nice steady beat, but also unobtrusive enough to not negate her flirtations.

By the end of the second drink, they had each exhausted a lifetime of pick-up lines and flirtations. Melville looked at his glass and said, “So…about my fee…” Amanda propped up a bit and said, “I was wondering when you were going to finally get around to that. So, I don’t really have any money on me. Will you accept alternative forms of payment?” “What did you have in mind,” he asked. She leaned in and kissed him deeply, “you tell me?” “Well, I want you to make out with me,” he said almost shyly.

“Oh honey,” Amanda asserted, flirtingly, “You aren’t very good at this, are you? You gave a very thorough tour, and I have far more to offer then simply a make out. Just tell me what it is you want, and I will tell you if it is acceptable.” He leaned in and kissed her, and then moved to nibble on her ear. God, Amanda loved that.

“Ok,” he whispered, “I want you to be a stripper for me. I want you to dance for me, provide me with a lap dance, strip for me, and then fuck me silly.” Amanda slyly pondered over the offer. She knew that she could easily do the first three parts, and before doing the forth, she would be able to get him on the bed, in a **** position, and then use the taser in her purse. She had the plan all worked out.