There was no time for all that anyway, and it wasn’t why I was here. This was the fifth nightclub in as many nights that I and my covering force had...visited. I wasn’t here looking to get laid, although I planned to do that too after duty hours. I was here hunting. Six nights ago, in response to Robert’s phone call, I had driven from the scene of my recent tryst with a female accountant named Sandy in Kentucky up to Washington, D.C. I had parked a few blocks away from the J. Edgar Hoover. As I had hoped, she spread my legs and her tongue found my button. She started to work her fingers into my hole slowly working them in and out as she sucked on my button, working it wildly with her tongue. I was bucking in no time almost falling off the chair. Sally stopped and lifted me to the bed, sat me on the edge with my legs hanging over the side and attacked my pussy again. She had worked several fingers into me pumping in and out. She stopped eating me and focused on getting her. More

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