Tell Bobby you're no prostitute

You take your hand off Bobby's crotch and try to wiggle out from under his groping hands. "I might play a hooker on this job," you tell him, "but that doesn't mean you can just take advantage of me like that." When you say that, Bobby's expression darkens. You yelp out in surprise and pain when he takes a fistful of your hair and pulls you up.

"I will not let you being a frigid bitch ruin our cover," he hisses at you. He pushes you down so you are now bend over the table. Before you know what's happening he's holding both your hands behind your back with one hand and is rubbing your pussy through your hotpants with the other. You instinctively try to get out from under his grasp, but all that you end up doing is pressing your crotch more into him. "Just look at what you made me do," he whispers angrily in your ear, "now we've got all this attention."

You look around and shamefully see that it's true. Your yelp and struggling has made it so that most eyes in the room are on you. All around you pimps and hookers have paused their own rutting to see what's going on. You realize that that also means you're stuck like this. You're pretty sure you can kick Bobby's ass any day of the week, but being under this much scrutiny you can't see how you can do anything without blowing your cover, which would mean the failure of the mission.

"Besides, I know how girls like you are," he tells you, increasing the speed and pressure of his genital ****. "You don't want anything to do with men, until one stands up for himself and shows you what a real man can do. Then all of a sudden you show your true, cock gobbling nature, and can't get enough. I mean, just look at how you're wriggling that tight little ass for me. You can't wait until you get my hard dick shoved up your whore pussy. You've probably been creaming you panties for this since you put on that slutty outfit."

Goddamnit, he's right. Well, not with all the creepy ****-apoligist bullshit, but your body is betraying you. The pussy rubbing, the macho dirty talk, even all the pimps looking at you while getting blown themselves, it's really getting you horny. With a shock you notice that you are indeed involuntarily, but quite forcefully, bucking your hips to meet Bobby's rubbing.

He pauses his rubbing and pulls down your hotpants. You let out a yelp as you feel his fingers probing your soaking wet pussy. "See, I knew it," he tells you, while moving his fingers in and out of you. "You're gushing down there. You're craving it. Well, don't worry. I'm going to give you what you want, you don't even have to ask." You inwardly reprimand yourself for feeling disappointed when his fingers leave your pussy. You hear him loosening his zipper and feel him lining up his cock at your entrance. "Take this, you slut."

You let out a long guttural moan as you feel him filling you up. He starts fucking you hard and fast. You're ashamed by the lustful whimpers you hear yourself making. Bobby finally lets go of your arms, but it doesn't matter. Even if you were in a position to get away from him without blowing your cover, you're not sure if you would take the opportunity at this point.

Your partner grabs hold of your hips with both hands, and redoubles his efforts, fucking you hard and with wild abandon. With every thrust you are slammed into the table and you can already feel your pussy getting sore, but you don't mind. To be honest, you're kinda loving it, although you would never admit that. It's been too long since you've gotten laid, you think to yourself.

Bobby slaps your ass hard and you yelp in surprise. "Yeah, you're loving it," Bobby says, "aren't you, you whore?" You make sure you're face looks angry when you look back over your shoulder. "Fuck you," you spit at him. Just because your treacherously horny and sex deprived body is betraying you certainly doesn't mean you should encourage his behavior. You don't want to make a habit out of getting **** on missions. You bury your face in your arms on the table to try to hide your lust-filled o-face and to dampen your slutty moans and whimpers. Behind you Bobby just laughs as he goes back to fucking you with the energy of a teenage boy getting laid for the first time.

At one point you feel the weight of Bobby's gut on your back as he bends forwards and grabs hold of one of your boobs. He moves his hand inside of your glittery bra, that serves as your top in your hooker costume. Immediately he takes your nipple between his fingers and starts rolling it between them, occasionally pulling on them. It hurts slightly, but in a good way. Then the air gets pressed out of your lungs, as Bobby completely lays down on you. He takes your ear in his mouth and starts nibbling. His hand is now smushed between your breast and the table, so he starts to roughly knead your tit.

This goes on for some time, your partner switching between biting your ear, kissing or biting your neck, and even licking your face at one point. Bobby grabs a firm hold of your tit and says: "Goddamn, I need to see these puppies bounce." And with that he gets off you and roughly flips you over. He grabs the cups of your bra and pulls them down, so your breasts are now in plain view. As you feel Bobby enter you again, a large figure of a man blocks your view.

"That's a nice looking bitch you got there," the pimp tells Bobby, "mind if I take her mouth while you work on the other end?" You look at your partner pleadingly. He seems to think it over as he starts thrusting slowly and absentmindedly rubbing your clit. "You'd better not," He finally says, "I'm nearly done myself and we've gotta go soon." You sigh a sigh of relief. Or was it pleasure, you wonder as Bobby pushes in extra deep.

"Don't worry, I can be quick," the tall man says, "I've already warmed up with one of my own girls. Besides I can pay you." He grabs his wallet out of his pocket and takes two twenties out. "How does forty bucks sound?" Bobby looks at you, then at the forty dollars, then back at you. You mouth the word 'no' to him and try to look as pleadingly as possible. Surely, your partner wouldn't sell your last shred of dignity for forty bucks? Would he?