Gail awoke a sweaty mess. The hotel sheets she was tangled in were stained and, now, damp. Opening her eyes, she watched the dust floating in the one ray of sunshine coming in through the broken, yellowed blinds. It looked like a pickup had driven down a dirt road running right through the middle of the room. And, as if that wasn't disgusting enough, the slowly turning ceiling fan, grinding out each exhausting rotation, was growing spider webs of fungus, mold, and God knows what else.
Gail had woken up in this disgusting room two mornings in a row. She knew there wouldn't be a third. The jig was up. Mission accomplished. The man in the bed next to her was gagged and bound. He'd been nearly-laid and definitely played. All in all, he probably couldn't have hoped for a better takedown. Two women, two nights in a row. Most guys could only dream of the scenario: a Friday night, a half-empty bar, two beautiful lesbians who just happened to be in to him. She laughed at the thought. Two beautiful lesbians was a pipe dream in this town where you'd be lucky to find two decent looking people of any orientation, especially if teeth were a requirement.
The first night had been a show, a tease to get the jackass to open up. By the end of the night, he had not only confirmed identity, but also freely admitted to committing the crime that he had been charged with. All it took was a little PDA between the two bounty hunters, a well-timed bend over or two, a couple of suggestive winks, and a dance.
He had openly stared when Gail ran her index finger slowly along the exposed strip of skin just above the waist of Holly's jeans as they stood at the bar ordering their first drinks. His mouth gaped when Holly came up behind Gail, pushing herself tightly against the blonde, and gave her a slightly open-mouthed kiss just behind and below her ear. He was hooked. With their second drink Gail and Holly moved over next to him and struck up a conversation. The night unfolded perfectly. Drinks and flirtations were shared. As Gail and Holly got flirtier with him and more physical with each other, his lips loosened. As Gail sat on Holly's lap, unabashedly and languidly grinding her ass into Holly, he lost all good sense and started bragging about his excursions outside the law. Gail and Holly acted impressed, turned on even, as he kept talking. He was a bush whacked blowhard, dumb and dangerous.
"Let's get a little dirty," Gail suggested as she walked over to the jukebox.
When the music started, Gail took Holly's and Payday's (a generic name Gail and Holly gave to all those they sought) hands and led them out to an open space by the pool table. It was the guise of the dance, the grinding and wandering hands, that allowed Holly to pull his wallet from the back pocket of his jeans. It was Gail riding his leg and holding his neck firmly to keep his eyes locked on her that allowed Holly to pull out his license and confirm his identity. It was the press of Holl'y front on his back that allowed her to slide the wallet back without detection.
Night one was a total success.
Night two was all about having a little fun and locking down the payday. It was easy as pie. He was predictably seated at the stool at the bar, just as he had promised them he would be at the end of the night before. They all had a drink, and Holly extended the invitation to Payday to accompany them back to their hotel room. The dumb fucker lit up like it was Christmas, like he was the luckiest man in the world.
Once they were all back in the hotel room, Gail and Holly fell into the the roles they had discussed earlier in the day. Holly pushed Payday into a chair in the corner of the room.
"Watch," she ordered. "You're next."
Holly approached Gail, who was standing by the bed.
"Strip. And don't stop until I tell you." Holly's voice was sultry but full of fire.
Gail complied without hesitation, stripping deliberately as Holly stared. When Gail got down to her bra and underwear, Holly ordered her to stop.
"Lay down on the left side of the bed."
Gail did as told. Holly walked over to the suitcase on the floor in the corner of the room. She took out several black silk scarves. Turning toward Gail, Holly lifted up the scarves for her to see. She caught and locked Gail's eyes with hers and flashed a small, evil smile. She brought the middle knuckle of her index finger to her lips and softly breathed out a "Shhh" setting the precedent for what Payday had coming. Hips swaying with the promise of sex, she sauntered over to Gail and gently and loosely bound her hands to the headboard. Each hand was wrapped with a scarf, each bound to its own dowel.
Holly quickly stood and turned to Payday who indiscreetly had his hand in his lap, lightly stroking his hard-on over his jeans. Holly struggled to resist her urge to purge at the ballsy bastard.
"Remove your hand from your dick. You don't do what you want in this room. You do what I want. Do you understand that?"
He pulled his hand back and nodded excitedly.
"Now get over here and lay on the right side of the bed next to Gail."
"Don't you want me to strip," he asked.
"I will remove your clothes when I deem the time appropriate."
With that, he practically ran and leapt onto the bed, mirroring Gail's position to make quick work for Holly. She tripled up the scarves and held them taught between her hands.
"I know Gail and I know she will not make a sound unless I let her, but with the things I am going to do to her and you, I can't trust you to keep quiet. I don't know you well enough."
With that she forced the scarves into his mouth and tied them tightly around the back of his head. When the knot was secure, she dropped his head onto the pillow and ran the fingers of her right hand from his chest down to the snap on his pants.
"Almost ready?"
He nodded. Of course he nodded.
"Good. Put a hand on each side of this dowel," she said pointing to the specific piece of wood where she wanted his hands.
He did as told. She lifted up the a black scarf and moved it toward his hands.
"Don't move." She gave this order so that he wouldn't look at her or at the headboard. Just as the silk reached his hands, she pulled out a zip tie hid inside the scarf and quickly zip tied his hands together. His eyes widened in surprise as she pulled it tight.
Holly coolly moved over to Gail and untied her. Gail smiled in a way that would have made the devil blush as she sat up and pulled a larger zip tie from underneath the bed. Securing his feet, she looked over the restrained man.
"We're bounty hunters, dick splash," she said as she delivered a swift junk punch that rolled his eyes back.
"And now, Holly," Gail said as she undid the clasp of her bra and let it fall to the floor, "you are going to finish what you started."
And that is what brought them to this hot-as-hell room in this dump of a hotel. As Gail stretched the night away, she pushed her tank top up her torso, over her ribs. She was hoping that piece-of-shit excuse for a fan might actually move the air enough to cool her damp skin. Like the way Holly's breath did after she licked a hot trail from Gail's belly button down. Gail let her own fingers slide from her sternum down to her belly button where she paused to lightly circle while she resided in the thought of Holly's tongue. The grunts and muffled attempts of Payday to speak did not break Gail's retreat into memories.
It was just as Gail's fingers started drifting south that Holly walked out of the bathroom. Gail left her hand precariously verging on the waistband of her underwear as she turned her head to look at Holly. Holly was dressed for business. Business attire for them was totally job dependent as far as the actual clothing was concerned. The mainstay, however, was the weaponry. The weaponry sometimes varied by job and always by mood. As bounty hunters, they took liberties . . . for their own protection, of course. Holly wore a dark grey skirt split all the way up her thigh and Gail could see the custom thigh holster peak out as her right leg strode forward. The holster was an inch of black material lined with shiny silver medical instruments.
"Dr. Holly I presume?" Gail's voice was hoarse and husky with morning and wanting.
Holly arched an eyebrow at Gail as Gail's finger dipped inside her underwear. A crooked smile crept across Holly's lips. Her tongue followed as Gail's hips started a slow rocking. Holly looked Gail up and down. Her partner was ruffled and sexy as fuck. Her hair was disheveled, from last night's sex and this morning's sleep. Her tank top was pushed up to her breasts, nipples pushing the limit of the thin fabric. Sweat glistened on her bare torso and her muscles flexed and relaxed, the lines of definition changing as hips rose and fell. Hips. Prominent hip bones covered by flawless pale skin almost glowing in contrast against the navy blue of her underwear, where Holly could see her fingers moving. Gail was wearing her authoritative underwear, the ones with the police shield on the front. Gail liked to call it her vag badge.
Holly's smile widened and she moved her eyes back up to Gail's face. The look there was a mix of self-satisfaction and pleasure. There was a slight smile on her parted lips. She knew she had Holly's attention.
"Officer Gail I presume?" Holly strode over to Payday's side of the bed.
Circling and sliding her finger around and across her clit faster now, Gail watched her partner pull the bottom of her skirt up so she could mount the fugitive, straddling his chest. Holly shifted her weight slowly from knee to knee and searched his face. Gail didn't know what she looked for when she did this. Remorse? Fear? Whatever it was, she must have found it or reached the conclusion that it wasn't there. Her dismount was swift and smooth, and before Gail had time to move, her partner had topped her.
"What say we put this one in the trunk," Holly purred, "and then I can finish what you started."
"Holly," Gail panted out. "It is a million fucking degrees in the trunk. He'd probably die."
Holly's lopsided grin reappeared and she shrugged.
"You win some and you lose some." She whispered as she started rubbing her wet panties on Gail's bare stomach.
