The Reporter - Part 1 - Sex Stories

The Reporter - Part 1

... emotional." "All right, Major, I'm looking for a story." "Ah," he mused as he removed his glasses to reveal large, dark drooping sacks under his eyes, "what kind of story?" "Something decent; I need to get back into my boss's good books." "You been a bad boy, Flik?" "No, quite the opposite, and I'm paying the consequences." Erdogan let out a deep, cheery, chuckle, "I think we find you something interesting then. Go down my club and see the girls." *** As he walked down, into the dimly lit, sixties-seedy room, Flik could feel the eyes burning into him. He hadn't been here in a long while but had been a great customer over the years. He took a pew at the bar, ordered a vodka, and after a brief, flirty chat with the barmaid started thinking about his real business here. He sloped away to a quiet booth in the corner, satisfied that those who knew his game had seen him. He had noticed a few new girls at the club; fresh, young and sexy but his thoughts flashed back to the dazzling Ayla. If Erdogan ever got wind of that he'd be a dead man. He had no intention of letting on though and Ayla was hardly likely to boast to her own Dad about sucking him off. "Hey, Flik, could you sort me out with a bit of powder for my nose?" He looked up and let his eyes enjoy a sexy run all over the body of the petite, mixed-race beauty, and smiled. "I don't do that anymore, love," he replied, wondering if it would be true for long. As a reporter, he needed to speak to people, and a pretext always ...

... helped. That was why he had started smoking, but having a bit of Charlie up your sleeve smoothed things along even better he had since found. "Is that all you came over here for, Jess?" he said, feigning a hurt expression. "Of course not, baby." She sat down next to him and put her hand down playfully on his thigh. She was only twenty-one, but it seemed like she was much older because she'd been working for years. Flik had met her when she'd first started out as a fresh sixteen-year-old; he had a protective soft spot for her. "How you keeping, Jess?" She started running her hand up his inner thigh and smiled. "I was just wondering the same thing about you," she said as her hand cupped his crotch. If he hadn't had his fun with Ayla, it would have been a lot more difficult to turn down, but he had, and so he did. "Come on, baby, you don't have to play that game with me. You know that I just like to see you." "Yeah, well, most guys pay me. Even for that." She pulled her hand away affronted. "If I was flush, I would. You know that. Come on, tell me what's wrong," he said gently. "Erdogan, that big, fat Turkish cunt, has cut our basic. Got to work crazy hours, or do crazy things, to make ends meet." He suddenly noticed that what he had initially taken for sulking was actually exhaustion; she looked totally dejected. "Listen, love, maybe I could have a chat with the Major. Try and make him see sense." As the words left his mouth, he wondered quite what he'd be able to say, to make any ...