3 comments/ 40200 views/ 15 favorites College Girls Take On Developers By: msgrant67 Chapter 1: Introduction During Spring Break of our senior year at Florida State, my friend Chelsea convinced another friend, Samantha, as well as myself to come home with her to Rome, Georgia, to relax a bit. This was out of character for us, as wild, beach vacations were more the norm, but we had gotten into a bit of trouble the year before in Daytona during Spring Break so maybe a calm week would do us some good. When we arrived on Sunday afternoon, we were met by Chelsea's younger sister, Ashley, who was visibly upset. "What is wrong, honey?" Chelsea said. "They are going to tear down Ridge Ferry Park," was the reply. "No!" exclaimed the older sister. "What is Ridge Ferry Park?" I asked. "It is the biggest park in town." Chelsea replied. Ashley started talking quickly, "It is pretty much everything there is to do here! It has a swimming pool, a zoo, a skate park, hiking trails, tennis courts, picnic areas. Everything. Even the teen cruising areas where Chelsea used to park with her boyfriends." "Why are they tearing it down?" Samantha had finally started paying attention. Ashley, smiling slightly from her last little joke about her sister, said, "Mr. Jenkins is buying it, and he is going to replace everything with a private golf course and luxury homes. " "That can't be, Ash. No one would stand for that," her sister told her. "He can, and he is doing it. The Parks Department is over budget for the year, and Brian Sullivan, the Park and Recreation Director can sell it in order to make budget. Everyone knows that he has received some kind of a bribe, but no one can prove anything. He's been the director for two years and he has already done it to several sites; he is horrible. He only wants to focus on the park properties that make money, like the ones that lease out spaces to businesses and then charge you a lot to camp there and stuff." "What about the mayor? Can't he just stop it?" I asked. "He tried, and he is willing to move money from the city budget to save the park, but he cannot get approval to do that until the next scheduled city council meeting. That's not until Tuesday, the 25th. If the park board votes at noon on Thursday the 20th, like they plan to, it will be too late. We're having rallies and events there all week, starting today since it is Earth Day. The theme is a lot more local this year, not just generic 'Save the Environment' stuff like most years; now it's 'Save our Park', but like I said, we are too late to do anything. " Ashley was obviously very concerned with this issue. "Who on the board supports this?" Chelsea wanted to know. Ashley explained. "Sullivan needs seven votes for anything to pass. He usually has nine lined up in advance; that way he's safe in case someone does not show for the meeting. It is always the same folks. The older people who think that getting rid of these places will stop the kids from being noisy and stuff. Plus, he has gotten some local business owners appointed. They always support each other since, in their eyes, development means profit." "So, all we need to do is change three minds by Thursday?" Chelsea asked her sister. "Well, sure, but, how, Chelsea?" "Leave that to me, sweety," the older sister replied. Samantha and I were convinced by Chelsea to help, and it really did not take much convincing. We were afraid that we were going to be bored all week anyway. At least this gave us something to do. Sam and I spent Monday reading up on the issue and deciding whose votes we could flip and, as importantly, how we could do it, while Chelsea went and visited with the mayor, who was an old family friend. Unfortunately, Ashley's version of the events was fairly accurate. The mayor would act and block it if possible, but he could not until after the park board meeting. We got all the information that we could gather on each member of the board, and we determined that only four members were solidly in our corner. Two bitter old ladies basically voted against anything fun; one was a building supply company owner who wanted any and all development; three were either members of the developer's family or his employees, and then, there was Sullivan himself, Joseph McIntosh, an older gentleman who had been in politics his entire life, and Stan Eisen, basically a 40ish wannabe playboy who had inherited his wealth and owned the town bank. "Ooh, this one's a hottie, who's this?" Samantha asked as she held up a photo. "Oh, God, that's Sullivan," Chelsea said, "He's the one doing all this; you need to pick another one." But Samantha was insistent that if she was going to do this, she at least wanted to have fun. And Samantha pretty much always gets her way. "I'll get him to change his vote, and we will be done," she said. "It's not that easy, Sam," Chelsea started to explain, "Even if you somehow convince him, which I am not even sure is possible, the item is still on the agenda, and a vote will still be held. Some of these others still will have motives to see this done." Eventually it was decided that we would have to take a divide and conquer approach. Samantha would get her way and get Brian Sullivan; Chelsea would get Joseph McIntosh & I, Brittany, would be responsible for Stan Eisen's vote. Chapter 2: Chelsea's Story After dividing up our targets, Chelsea made a few telephone calls and set up a lunch meeting on Wednesday with Joe McIntosh. Seeing as how it was a small town, everyone was a friend of a friend, and appointments weren't that hard to come by. Chelsea spent Tuesday & Wednesday preparing for her meeting. She prepared some charts and spreadsheets filled with facts about the park and what it meant to the community; she compiled a couple of scrapbooks filled with photos of the park and people having fun at the park, but most of all, she learned as much as she could about Joseph McIntosh. He was in his 60's and had served on practically every board in town. At one point, he had owned the town's newspaper, but he had sold it years ago and now just lives off of his investments. The local gossip was that Joe had been married years ago, but no one seemed to know what ever happened to his wife; the consensus was that she had just moved out of state, though the reasons for this varied quite a bit. Regardless, there was no wife in the picture. The only real "dirt" on Joe was that he would drive out to the county line every month and pick up the current issue of Playboy magazine. Wednesday arrived, and Chelsea made sure that she got to the restaurant first. By arriving about 40 minutes prior to the noon meeting time, she was able to secure the exact booth that she wanted. It was a two-person booth near the back of the restaurant. It was unusual because the seats in the booth were perpendicular to one another, rather than across from one another. Sometimes the restaurant would add a chair across from each booth bench and create a square table for four, but that wouldn't be needed today. Chelsea knew that being as close to Joe as she could be would be critical. She could give her presentation much easier, plus make it much more convenient for Joe to focus on her. The seat that he would occupy basically faced nothing but a wall, so there would be no worry of other patrons seeing anything that looked odd or coming over to say "Hello" or anything. Chelsea knew that she only had about an hour to change his mind and did not want any distractions. Joseph arrived promptly at noon, and the hostess led him back to the booth. As he neared the booth, Chelsea stood up and greeted him, "Mr. McIntosh, thanks so much for meeting me." "Please call me Joe," he quickly answered. He glanced down at the small booth, looked at the hostess and said, "Do you have any other tables? This one looks awfully small." Before the hostess could answer, Chelsea took control. "Oh do not worry about that, Joe. It is just the two of us, we can squeeze in here. I am sure she wants to save the bigger booths for the larger parties." As she finished speaking, she beamed a smile at him while sliding back into the booth and around to her side. She patted his seat with her left hand, and he moved into the booth as quickly as a puppy would have come to his master. "So what did you want to talk about, young lady?" he asked. Chelsea was not sure that she wanted to jump right into, but she went for it. "Well, like I told you on the phone, I am in a political science course in college, and one of our projects is to get involved in an issue and try to affect it positively." "Ok, that sounds interesting; what can I do for you?" he asked with a smile. "I have a form my professor gave us. On it I list the issue, my stance, how you are going to vote and what facts I brought up to you when we met. Then, you sign the form, proving that we met, and that's it. Simple, huh?" Her reply was smooth, and she produced the fake form that she had printed as she spoke, laying it on the table in front of them. She went on to explain that she only had this week to do the project, and the only issue she could find was "this park thing." She asked if he could explain the issue to her while she filled out her form. He began describing the park, talking about selling the park to make budget and explaining that there was not really any other choice. Chelsea appeared to be taking notes but really was trying to tease the guy by making sure her legs were gently up against his. When she thought he had finally noticed, she said, "Oh, sorry. I guess you were right; this is an awfully cozy little booth." "Quite alright," he responded, "It is okay." She could tell he enjoyed it because he was not using what little space he did have to move away. "Well, at least you're not seeing my legs," she answered as she lowered her voice, "That could be embarrassing." He couldn't help but answer, "Why?" She gave an innocent smile and slowly pulled her leg into view. "Well I got this run and did not have time to change." He nodded, mesmerized by the site of this perfect leg inches from him. Thinking he should say something, he muttered, "That's nothing; pantyhose do that all the time, honey." She was now whispering, "Oh, I don't wear pantyhose." She slowly pulled her skirt up as his eyes were glued to it. She stopped pulling just after revealing the lace top of her thigh highs. "I see," was all he could mutter. "Yes, thigh highs are perfect for this hot Georgia weather. Pantyhose on top of my panties can make me hot and sticky in this heat." She was still whispering. As Joe began to turn red she added, "Uh oh, that didn't sound right. I'm sorry. Let's get back to the park issue." "Yyy, yes," he managed to stammer. "I'd like to show you some reasons to vote 'No' to the park sale. Is that okay?" She had a feeling that anything she had asked now would have been okay, and it was confirmed when he nodded. She pulled out her book which contained chart after chart of nothing useful. This would have bored anyone to tears and she began reading them to Joe. She positioned the charts toward him and positioned herself behind them, bending towards him slightly, but enough so that her ample cleavage was on full display. It was unbuttoned just a little too much, not enough to show anything but plenty enough to be very distracting. He sat unmoving for far longer than anyone really would have looked at those charts. When she finally gathered them all up and began to put them away, Joe appeared relieved, though his face was still slightly red, and there were small beads of sweat gathered on his forehead. Chelsea pulled out a book though, and she scooted over next to him in the booth, positioned where she could open the book, and they could look at it together. As she began to open the book, she spoke, "Joe, my professor said that the most successful arguments were both logical and emotional. The charts and graphs proved the intellectual reasons to save the park, and this scrapbook will show you the real people affected by the park." She quickly went through the first few pages showing kids in the park, family reunions, Fourth of July fireworks celebrations and more, but she slowed down when she got to the current section. She had prepared this section carefully after learning of his Playboy magazine habit. (She figured that if enjoyed soft core, she could do that. The trick was to make it subtle, yet very erotic) "These photos are my friends and I enjoying the park, some taken as recently as this week, Joe." She was slowly letting him peruse the photos of the girls in bikinis; they were splashing in the pool, suntanning in the park and by the pool, rubbing lotion on each other, and jogging by the lake. For a couple of summers the girls had worked as dancers in a topless club, so they knew the moves, poses and looks to give in the photos. As Joe took in each photo in the dozen or so pages in this section, he was mesmerized. These three girls were among the most beautiful that he had ever seen. And the swimsuits and other outfits that they were wearing were incredible, but nothing prepared him for the final 3 or 4 pages! When he got to them he literally gasped as Chelsea started explaining the pictures. "Oh, Joe," she cooed in his ear, "I didn't mean for these to be in here. Oh well, you've seen them. These are our pictures of us trying on costumes for the Halloween party down at the park." She paused for him to comment, but he simply stared at the page, so she continued. "That's my friend Samantha in the nurse costume." She let him find it as she described the costume: a tight, white short dress with three small buttons on the front, white thigh highs & heels, and matching lace underneath. "That is me, of course, in the middle. I'm in a police girl costume. Nothing special," she lied. It was tight, form-fitting and provided even more cleavage than Joe had seen today. "And that is Brittany, she is tall, blonde and dressed like a cheerleader," she added. Technically, I was dressed exactly like a cheerleader, as I was wearing my actual uniform. "We are hoping to enter the costume contest this year, Joe; that is, if the park is still open." She added as she gently pulled the book away and closed it. She remained against him as she returned to filling out her form, "So Joe, did I convince you to change your vote?" "Well," he answered, "Unfortunately, I already am committed to my vote for the project." He couldn't even make eye contact as he spoke. "But Joe, you just saw my presentation," Chelsea did not miss a beat, and she would not let him off easily. "How could your mind have been made up before you had heard all of the arguments?" she inquired. Still not looking at her, he babbled something about he and some others on the board supporting each other's projects in order to get stuff in return. Chelsea acted shocked, "You mean like a bribe?" She reached down and squeezed his thigh as she spoke, and his entire body quivered. "No, no, nothing like that," he responded, "Just a vote I may need down the road." "Oh," she seemed relieved, "So you have done this before." He nodded as she continued, "So you have built up many of these votes, right? Surely, you can just vote to save the park this once and still be okay." He did not immediately answer so she continued, "I cannot give you votes later, but I can give you a little token of my appreciation." He turned to her, silently pleading, as she kept on, "You vote to save the park, and I'll give you my scrapbook so you can always remember all of the fun things that happen there." He turned back to the table, glanced at the book and said, "That whole scrapbook, that might be nice. I never knew about all the stuff that went on there. I guess I can do that. You have made a very convincing case, young lady." He reached across the table for the book, but she gently caught his hand and started caressing it inside her own hands. "Joe, not that exact book, I just remembered that it has a few pages of my little sister and her friends in the front of it. I would feel bad giving it away." As Joe frowned, Chelsea brightened up, "I know; I will make copies of my photos and make you a special book tonight. It will be all the pictures of me and my friends Samantha and Brittany. Does that sound okay? "Sure whatever you think, Chelsea," he added. "Of course that will leave a few pages blank, and that might not be a great book." She was seemingly talking to herself. "Joe, I'm sorry but the only other pictures that I have with me are of the three of us trying on each other's costumes, lingerie and nighties. I could fill the book with those if you would like." "Yes, Yes," he desperately agreed, "I mean just to fill the book." He was trying to maintain composure. "Okay, baby, you just sign my form that you will vote against the project, go to the meeting tomorrow and vote that way, and I will meet you right afterward and give you my scrapbook." Chelsea leaned over and kissed his cheek as he signed the form for her, and she thanked him and said that she would see him tomorrow. Then she left. The board member, in no condition to stand and walk across the restaurant sat there trying to figure out what had just happened. "Oh, what the hell?" he thought, "It is just one vote. The measure will probably still pass." He knew, though, that he would have to vote "No," as he needed that scrapbook. Chapter 3: Brittany's Story My story is a little different. My job was to convince Stan Eisen, the local banker, to vote against the project. Chelsea had asked around and discovered that he had slept around a bit prior to his marriage, and even a little bit afterwards. His wife understandably did not like this, and she was known to confront his partners at their workplaces, churches or homes. Her temperament, as well as the perception that he desperately chased anyone and everyone, led to him having minimal, if any, success for the past few years. I knew that I could not just walk into his bank and meet him, so the day before the big vote I waited in my car in front of the bank around noon. Eventually, I spotted him crossing the town square returning from lunch. I hopped out of my car and entered the bank so that I would already be in the building as he entered it. Soon enough, he entered and began walking toward his office in the back. I stepped in front of him. "Excuse me, sir," I sweetly spoke, "Do you work here? "Yes, of course," he replied, "May I help you?" "I need a car loan; who can handle that?" I asked. "Well, normally that would be Ms. Davenport, but it looks like she is still at lunch," he stated while scanning the desks out front. "You can have a seat and wait if you wish." "I only have a short time, but I can wait a few minutes." As I said this I slowly unzipped my light jacket and let it fall off of my shoulders. I was confident that I had his attention as I was wearing a sexy red dress underneath featuring a slight plunge in the front. It was a dress more appropriate for a cocktail party than a business meeting, but it had the intended result. "On second thought you should not have to wait; come on back to my office and I'll try to help you. I am the president here after all." He was attempting to impress me now. Good. When we got to his office I sat on a sofa next to his desk, rather than one of the chairs across from his. That way his view was unobstructed. I was not doing anything obvious, but my crossed legs, sandals dangling off of my foot and sexy dress seemed to keep him interested. I tried to get him to approve a car loan, saying that I would be graduating from college in a couple of months and that I would find a job and make the payments then. College Girls Take On Developers He would not approve it. He was firm with the company policy that I had to have my job first. Certainly this was a reasonable policy, but I could usually get guys to do things for me. I could tell right then that he would be difficult. I thanked him for his time and told him that I was leaving town tomorrow at noon sharp and asked him if he knew of any fun clubs in the area that I and my friends could go to on our last night. "I mean it is our Spring Break, and we have not gotten wild yet," I added. Not surprisingly, he suggested a club about 30 minutes outside of town. (Probably far enough away to be off of his wife's radar) And he said that he goes there sometimes. He says that he'll buy me some drinks if I meet him there at 8:00. I literally laugh at him. "Mr. Eisen, I think you're out of touch with my age group. We don't usually hit clubs until 10:00 or 11:00." He appeared to be ashamed; he glanced down and started to speak, but I leaned in and whispered first. "I'm sorry. Did I say something that hurt? I tell you what; you get there when you want, and if you're still there when we get there, you and I will drink and dance and I'll catch you up on college style partying. How's that sound?" He tried to answer nonchalantly, "I'll try to stick around." But I knew he would be there; I could see that he had a tent in his crotch that would demand he show. As he returned to a full day of work, I went home and took a long nap. I needed to be rested for the evening. Around ten that evening, I woke up, and got ready. I was dressed in my favorite club dress. Actually, a mini-dress, it was blue with sequins, practically backless and barely came down to my mid-thighs. I styled my long blonde hair so that it gently flowed beneath my shoulders and prepared my make-up in such a way that it looked more like I was going to a modeling audition than to a club. I would probably be a bit later than eleven getting there, but I had faith that he would still be there. I entered the club around 11:30 and immediately had the attention of everyone there, at least everyone with a Y chromosome. I joined Stan at the bar. "Sorry I'm late; were you waiting for me?" "Not really, I'm just hanging out," he said, trying to play it cool. I leaned into his ear, lightly brushing it with my lips, "Liar," I playfully whisper. He does not move until I pull away, clearly wanting to prolong the touch. The bartender meanwhile asks what I'll have. "A glass of champagne," I answer, "In fact bring a bottle, the two of us will finish it." Stan looks down at his nearly empty bourbon and coke, certainly not his first, and then back at me. I can tell that he wants to back out on sharing the bottle, but I know he won't say anything. Not after the way I laughed at him in his office. As the bottle arrives, two glasses are poured. I lean into him and ask softly, "Do you know why I love champagne?" As he shakes his head, I pick up my glass and let a few drops fall onto my lips. He is enthralled by my lips and loves my playful tongue. I push my lips into his letting the bubbles of the champagne dance on his lips. "Doesn't that feel great, Stan?" It was the first time I use his first name, but he does not notice. "Let's go someplace else," he says. "Maybe get a room." Apparently he lacks tact. It is okay though; I can handle this. "We will Stan, but not yet, I just got here." I spend the next few hours dancing with him (of course rubbing up against him when it is not obvious) as well as teasing him by giving him peeks and almost-peeks of my boobs, lingerie and legs. I have him rubbing my feet and legs because they are allegedly sore, really though I just want him gettting excited by rubbing his hands on my stockings. At one point I nestle into his neck pressing my boobs into him because I am acting so tired. Through all of this, he gets flattering praise when he does something I like, "Oh Stan, you have the best hands ever. A little lower please." And "Stan, you are amazing to finish that whole glass of champagne." But when he does not please me he gets teased or reprimanded, "Come on, Stan, can't you keep up with me?" and "Stan, I should just go find a younger guy if you are already anxious to leave." This combination keeps him at my side and attentive all evening. In reality, he himself has finished off nearly two bottles of champagne. While I slowly sip just one glass from each bottle, whenever his glass gets low, I playfully distract him while refilling his glass. He has no idea that I am 100% sober and that he is completely hammered. Finally at 3:00 in the morning the club closes, and we have to leave. I tell him that I will drive us to a hotel. He has his arm around my waist, and I have my hand rubbing his package. He is so hard, so drunk and so horny that I could lead him anywhere, and he would follow. I drive to a Holiday Inn on the other side of town. We arrive about 4:00, and I must admit that it has been incredibly difficult keeping him awake for the nearly hour drive. I only manage by constantly playing with his cock and aggressively kissing him at Stop signs and red lights. I tell him that we will go in, get a room, get wild and freaky, then catch a couple of hours of sleep, and I will then drive him back to his car. At the front desk as we are checking in, I make sure to request a room that will be quiet, and I make sure that the morning maid service is cancelled since we will be sleeping in. Stan is paying no attention to my conversation with the clerk, as he is filling out the paperwork while I keep my hand on his crotch- just out of sight of the clerk. Stan does not even know that I have instructed the clerk to charge Stan for two nights. In a matter of minutes we get to our room and I gently ease Stan onto the bed. I do not want to have sex with this guy, but I know that I must give him some relief or else he will never settle down. I lift my dress, revealing my stockings, garters and a garter belt. He clearly likes what he sees and starts to unbutton his shirt. I am still rubbing his cock, through his pants, but now I unfasten his belt, unhook his pants and then pull his zipper down. My fingers free his cock from his boxers and take a nice, firm grip around it. I slowly start stroking it as I lean into his ear, licking it and teasing softly, "Come on Stan baby, come on. Oh my God, your cock is sooo big, so wide, so firm. It's just perfect, baby." He settles in and relaxes fully on the bed. He has even stopped his undressing process; he just wants to enjoy this. I speed up my strokes, now utilizing his pre-cum as a lubricant and continue, "Can you cum for me, baby? I bet you can, big boy." I am now moving my hand at full speed as he starts shooting. I milk him fully dry and then sit back up. "Oh baby, you came so much." I say. I sense that he is considering getting dressed, and I worry that he may have actually sobered up during our long drive over here. I stand and say, "Baby, you can go again can't you? I am still very, very horny." As I am speaking, I let the straps on my dress fall off my shoulders, and then I let the dress slip to the floor. At the very least his view of my lacy brand panties plus the garter belt and stockings get him back focused on me and nothing else. I lean towards him, exaggeratingly licking my lips slowly while taking his cock back into my hand. "Ooh yeah, I knew you could do this; I just knew it, baby; it is already getting hard again." I was practically acting giddy as his cock did show a tad bit of life. "Let me grab one of my Viagra; then I can go, honey." He said as he started to stand, but I did not want that. "I will get it for you baby; you just sit there and relax. Are they in your pants, Stan?" I innocently asked as I finally finish pulling his pants off of his body. I drop them to the floor, out of his site. He nodded, and I smiled and repeated, "I will get it for you baby; you just stay right there and let Brittany take care of you." I turned away from him and bent over, giving him a direct view of my ass, and I reached down, not into his pants pocket, but into my purse for a blue pill. I stood up and walked over to the sink and poured a glass of water. I then went and dropped the pill in Stan's mouth and watched him drink the water and swallow the pill. I returned to him on the bed and spoke, "Let's just lie here for a few minutes until that pill takes affect baby." I gently pulled him to me and began gently stroking his hair as he snuggled in. Within just a few minutes he was fast asleep. His breathing was getting deeper and regular as I eased away and stood up quietly. I got dressed and then gently removed all of Stan's clothing. I put him into the bed and tucked him snugly into the bed. I then completed my plan. I set both his watch and the hotel room clock back four hours. I unplugged the hotel telephone and turned his cellular phone off. I created a lipstick smudge on his shirt, and, just for fun, on his boxer shorts. I took all of his belongings out of his pockets and hid them around the room, his car keys under the bed, his wallet and phone in a drawer, and his clothes in the closet. I then wrote a note to him to leave next to the bed. "Stan, sorry to leave you, baby, but I have to go, and you just won't wake up! Thanks for a great night! I'm really glad we hooked up. - Brittany" I then slip quietly out of the room, leaving the "Do Not Disturb" sign on the door, and drive back to Chelsea's house. On the way back, I reviewed my plan in my mind. I had decided when I could not get him to approve my car loan that I would not have much success convincing him to change his vote on the park, so I took an indirect approach. I kept him up until nearly 5:00 in the morning following a full work day for him and made sure that he had mixed liquor and champagne to excess. Finally, I had slipped him a Tylenol P.M. sleeping pill in place of a Viagra. (Thank goodness those pills are the same color) These three things should guarantee that he sleeps well into Thursday afternoon. With his cell phone turned off, the hotel phone unplugged, the hotel maid being instructed to skip the room and a "Do Not Disturb" sign on the door, nothing should wake him up prematurely. No one at the hotel would even think to check the room until Friday, since I had made sure that Stan had rented the room for two days. In the event that he does somehow wake up, my note should delay him realizing that he has been taken advantage of. Additionally, he will be thrown off by the clocks, thinking that he has four additional hours to do whatever he thinks he should, whether that is to get to work, get to his car or get to the meeting where the vote for the park is taking place. He will find it difficult to do anything though. He will need to shower first. His car is an hour away; his personal items will take some time to gather together, and his clothes have lipstick stains, perfume smells and are wrinkled. He obviously cannot call his wife to bring him clothes and get his car which would be his quickest solution. He will need a taxi or a friend to come pick him up in order to get to his car. He will then need to stop at a store and buy new clothes. In short, there is no chance of him making the noon meeting to vote for the park project. Chapter 4: Samantha's Story Just as I returned to Chelsea's home, Samantha was preparing for her day. It was the last step in saving the park and she totally looked ready for the challenge. She was wearing a crisp, short business suit, with immaculate make-up and gorgeous brown hair. "Corporate Sexy," we call it. Her plan was to get to Brian Sullivan's office at 8:00 sharp and hopefully get in to see him. Samantha thought that this would probably be the most difficult part of the plan; she was completely confident that if she could just meet him, she could get what she wanted. She arrived at his office and found that there was a secretary placed in the foyer of the office. She walked in and noticed a disapproving look from the older woman. We were in the South after all, and some still believe that women should not dress the way that Samantha was dressed. In a very direct manner, Sam stated, "Samantha Locke, here for Brian Sullivan, please." The secretary practically hissed, "And do you have an appointment?" as she started looking at an appointment book on her desk. "Not one that he would put in writing, I'm afraid; it is of a personal nature." Sam had the secretary perplexed as to what to do. Without waiting for a reply, Samantha retreated to a sofa in the waiting room and sat down. Meanwhile the secretary could not help but notice that as all of the employees were arriving for work, the gorgeous brunette was receiving considerable attention. There probably were not that many women in here regularly, since the primary business here was construction, and that was a fairly male dominated profession. A quick decision was made that if this was a private relationship, sordid or otherwise, Mr. Sullivan would certainly not want her presence to become the talk of the office. So she called Sam back to the desk and then escorted her back to Mr. Sullivan's office. Samantha could see that he was on his telephone, and as the secretary stood with her outside the office, waiting to ask Mr. Sullivan what to do, Samantha decided to take the initiative. "Thank you very much," she said to the secretary, and before realization even hit her, Samantha had taken the two steps to his office door, slipped inside and pulled the door closed behind her. She knew that if the secretary would not disturb him when he was on the telephone with his door open, she was guaranteed not to disturb a closed door private meeting. His eyes took her in completely as she settled comfortably into one of his chairs, and he quickly ended his call. Before he could speak, Samantha started, "Thank you so much for seeing me today, Mr. Sullivan, Truly, I get a little, oh, excited is a good word (she giggled) when a man in such a position of power agrees to see me." He wanted to find out what the hell was going on, but he liked that he had somehow pleased this beautiful woman and really liked being referred to as "Powerful." "What can I do for you Miss...?" he paused, waiting for her name. "Samantha," she filled in. "Samantha," he finished, "And you call me Brian." "I was hoping you could give me a little summary of the proposed Ridge Ferry Development. I am taking a landscape management course in college and am doing a paper on redevelopment," she said. "Oh, fine, fine, yes. Of course," He began explaining the project while Samantha slowly moved around in her chair. Samantha would lean over to her briefcase, pulling out a pen and notepad, cross her legs one way or another, playfully pull her pen in and out of her blouse, and just once, her mouth. She could tell that she had his complete attention because she would smile at points, mainly when he would discuss big money that he could make, and she would frown at points or give a quick, puzzled look. Whatever her look was, he would play to. Puzzled, he would slow down and explain. Excited, he would keep going giving more and more examples. At one point, he stated that he had to use "Political games" to get approval and Samantha raised her eyebrows. "What?" he asked her, "I can see that you are thinking about something." "Oh nothing really, Brian, I was just thinking that I like playing games, too," was her reply. When he finished, Samantha stood and thanked him profusely, praising his initiative and money-making ability. Desperate to keep the conversation going, he picked up his business card and handed it to her. "Take this please, and feel free to call me." She moved closer and took the card, "Do you want me to call you, Brian?" "Well," he stammered, "I mean, if you have any more questions or anything." "Oh, I see," Samantha purred, "Is that really what you mean?" she paused for a second then added, "Brian, I do not think that is what you meant." He was searching for words, giving her a moment to encourage him further, "Brian, if you have something to say, I would really love to hear it." He then found the courage to say, "I would like to see you again. Can we have dinner tonight?" Samantha grinned sweetly at him, and he began to smile as well, but then Samantha frowned and replied, "I am very sorry Brian; I would love that, but I am leaving today at noon." He was dejected and almost slumping, when Samantha seized control, "But, Brian, I am free until then." He is probably trying to think of something to suggest that they can do when Samantha tells him that she has not yet checked out of her hotel room. She suggests returning there and ordering a room service brunch. He happily agrees, and they are off to the hotel room that Samantha prepped the night before. They enter her room, and Samantha says that she will "freshen up" and instructs him to order something from room service, maybe a cheese and fruit tray and some wine, just not too much because her credit card in near its limit. He smiles to himself remembering his days in college and not having much money. The room is set up with an office at one end, a computer, printer and fax machine, but he thinks nothing of it. "That's okay, I will get it," he responds. He pulls out his own credit card and promptly orders and pays for the items that she suggested. As she comes back into the main room, she looks the same, but comes straight over and starts to kiss Brian. "Just remember, I have got to be out of this room by noon," she reminded him. "We will be; I have a meeting that I need to be at as well," he answered. Before long, room service knocked at the door, and Samantha asked if Brian would answer it since she thought she might look disheveled. She, of course, looked perfect, but Brian did not care; he went to the door and retrieved the items and even left a nice tip. He returned and Samantha playfully grabbed a strawberry from the tray and ate it. "Hmmm," she said, "Yummy." Her eyes danced with delight. She took the tray from his hands, set it down, and then took his hands in hers and led him to the bed. "Let's play a game, Brian, okay?" she asked. "What do you mean?" he responded. His face was puzzled as this was something new to him. "Oh, I kind of have to show you, but do not worry, there is no pain or anything like that. And I promise you a morning that you will never forget." As she spoke she let him relax on the bed and moved on top of him, kissing him fully, letting her tongue dance in his mouth. Without waiting for an answer, she took his hands and moved them on to her chest, letting him feel the full 21 year old 36 C's for the first time. She still had her suit on, but he could already feel that these boobs were something special. He did not even notice when, as she kissed him, she gently guided his hands above his head near the bed frame. His moment of calm was broken and his eyes popped open when he heard two quick clicks and realized that his hands were now handcuffed to the bed. "What the hell?" he said, "Let my hands go." "No, baby that's not the game," she sympathetically looked at him as he struggled with the handcuffs. Frustrated, he asked, "Well, what is the game?" She smiled again and moved back against him. "It is simple really; you do things that please me and you are rewarded. You do things that do not please me and you are punished." "What types of things?" he asked. "Oh, big things, small things, we'll think of some things baby," she leaned in and began kissing his neck as she continued, "But there are a few rules. First, no more raising your voice or cursing. Second, I promise that I will not hurt you or lie to you, okay? But you have to promise the same." College Girls Take On Developers He nodded, enjoying his neck being kissed and said that sounded okay. "Great, Brian, now I feel like I owe you a little reward for agreeing to play the game, so..." She leaned up and kissed his mouth fully while unbuttoning his shirt. He loved the feel of her fingers on his bare skin and was becoming anxious to keep pleasing her. "What should I do now?" he asked. "I do not know, Brian, what can you do for me?" she teased. He tensed up, realizing that he was pretty helpless. Samantha continued, "I will give you a hint; I like compliments, cutie." Brian began telling her how beautiful she was, how sexy she was and how she was driving him crazy. He was receiving instant rewards, as she completely unbuttoned his shirt and began licking his chest and nipples. After teasing him that way for some time, she sat up and said, "Any other ideas, Brian?" He was breathing slightly hard and was obviously turned on, but he managed to tell her that he was open to her ideas. Sam was eager to rely, "Okay, sweetie, how about we pull off your pants? That would be alright, wouldn't it?" Before he could answer, she was gently rubbing his cock through his pants and playing with his belt. He nodded his agreement and began trying to thrust his cock into her hands. "No, Brian, you must not move; you bad boy," she sweetly said as she swatted his cock. "It must be slow or the end will not be as fulfilling. Now we will try again, unless you are ready to be done." Brian said that he did not want to be done and that he could be still. Samantha tested him by slowly undoing his pants and easing them down his legs, but he remained as unmoving as possible. When she had his pants completely off, she dropped them on the floor and pushed his legs apart. "That was so good, Brian, you really did it; I am so proud of you." As she was telling him this, she was moving her tongue slowly up his leg, then up his, now naked inner thigh and finally to his boxer shorts. She positioned her mouth on his cock, yet through his shorts, and took it into her mouth. His involuntary pelvic thrust as her warmth enveloped his cock led to her jumping up. "Oh, Brian, I thought you could stay still, baby. I guess you do not want to play anymore," she was acting as though she was very disappointed. "No, I do; I do; give me another chance, please; please," he pleaded. Smiling sweetly again, she said, "I guess one more chance won't hurt, will it?" He grinned and agreed with her and when she added that she had a way to make sure it did not happen again, he looked relieved not worried. Of course she was pulling his boxers off as she spoke so he was probably a bit distracted. She moved her tongue back down his leg and proceeded to give him what she calls a "toe job." She takes his toes, one or two at a time and simulates a blow job on them. I have never done it, or had it done to me, but she swears by it and claims that every guy loves it. While her lips and tongue were working their magic on each foot, she was very gently securing each of his ankles to the bedframe with some soft, but very strong, nylon cords. When she was confident that they would hold, she finished her toe job and stood up. "There you go, Brian. I secured your legs so they cannot move anymore and you did not fight or argue so you get a reward." She acted thrilled as she said this. Obviously, this alerted him to the fact that his legs were now tied up, but he did not want to risk his reward so he remained silent. Samantha stood next to the bed and announced, "I will now become your dream girl, Brian." She started performing a strip tease unbuttoning her suit coat, slowly taking it off and moving on to her blouse. Brian Sullivan was oblivious to everyone and everything else in the world at that point, but he did manage to ask her how she knew who his dream girl would be. Samantha had just finished unbuttoning her shirt and letting it drop off of her. She did not respond; she just licked her lips and slowly unzipped her skirt, letting it fall to the floor as well. She was now standing before him in a red, satin corset, with garters connecting it to the tops of her stockings. The corset appeared to be defying laws of nature by keeping those boobs contained. As his eyes widened, she lay on the bed next to him and whispered, "Baby, I am every guy's dream girl." She crossed her leg on top of his, creating an unbelievable sensation for him as the stockings rubbed his leg. "Tell me what you will do for me, baby," she whispered in his ear. "Anything, Samantha, anything," he said. She was now completely up against him; her satin corset against his side and his stomach, and she bent her leg and raised it so that the side of her knee (more importantly the soft stocking was rubbing his naked cock.) "Anything?" she repeated. After several assurances of this, she sat up, still stroking him slowly and took a sip of the wine. She kissed Brian, letting the wine drip into his mouth. That led to him realizing how thirsty he was and allowed Samantha a little while to feed him some fruit and let him sip some more wine. She did not really need a break, but she knew that Brian did. He had been on the verge of an orgasm, and that would have been the end of her plan. After the break, she was active again; she moved her tongue around his body and teased his cock with her legs and fingers. When she had him nearly returned to his previous state, she asked, "Brian, what is the most important thing in the world to you right now?" He gave a quick, "I don't know," as a response. He clearly did not want to be thinking about anything other than getting off right now. Samantha kept her rhythm with her strokes and continued, "Because if I felt you would give me that, whatever it is, I would let you have anything that you wanted from me right now." She had his attention, but he said, "I do not know what to say, Samantha, anything that you can think of will be fine." "Great, baby, I love it when you give me power like that." She climbed on top of him and positioned herself on top of his bare cock. Only her thin panties were preventing him from being inside of her. Heck, even this felt really great as his cock could feel her tight, warm, moist pussy. "I tell you what I will do, baby, if you want. I will unhook one of your hands, and you will sign this letter. (She held up about a half page letter) After signing it, you can keep your hand free and rub me anywhere you wish. She then whispered, "You can even push my panties to the side if you wish and slip on in." He nodded, and she unhooked his hand; he almost signed it without looking at it, but he asked what it was as started to sign. "Just a little form pledging to vote against the park project, honey; it lists all of the reasons why you have changed your mind about the vote." As she was answering him she lay back next to him after allowing her boobs to spill out of the corset so that they were now rubbing against him. Additionally, she pulled her leg back near his cock, but this time she performed a move that she calls "the hook." She basically puts her leg against his pubic hair and allows his cock to nestle into the bend behind her knee. She then squeezes his cock by bending her knee. Aside from creating an ecstatic feeling, it allows her to hold his cock in place while she reaches down and sensually teases the underside of it with her one hand that can reach. "I cannot sign this, Samantha. I proposed that project," he was fairly insistent but making no real move to get away. "Well, we can be done, I guess." Samantha pouted, "Sure is a shame though, I know your little friend does not want to be done." As she finished talking, she tightened her knee which squeezed his cock and almost made him cum right then. "I just wanted to win the game by getting you to give up something important to you." "It is just a game?" he asked. "Of course, baby," she climbed back up on top and took his free hand and guided it to her wet pussy. She slipped a finger or two of his into her panties and let them inside of her. "What will happen to the paper when we are done?" he asked. "When we are done, I do not care, baby; you can have it. I do not need to keep it." As she spoke, she let his fingers go a little deeper into her. "I can have the paper immediately, when I leave this room," he clarified. "Baby, I promise you the paper will never leave this room unless you take it somewhere." She stood up and pulled her panties off, then returned, her pussy just millimeters above his cock. She reached down and guided his cock about a quarter of an inch inside and stopped. "Well, what now?" she mischievously teased. He could not possibly resist; he grabbed the pen and signed the paper, quickly discarding the pen to his side. He grabbed her ass with his free hand and pulled her down on his shaft. When he was fully inside of her, she twitched her pussy muscles and he nearly came. She then pulled back up and off and grinned at him. "I win," she said, "Are you ready to go?" "What?" he was panicking, "You said we would have sex." "When?" Samantha teased, "I do not think I said that." "Yes, when we started, Samantha, please." He begged. "What I said, baby, was that you would have a few hours that would be the best of your life and that you would never forget." Samantha clarified. She was starting to get dressed, and he was confused. "What about the sheet I signed?" "Oh, you can have it," she answered nonchalantly, "I said it would never leave this room, and I told you I would not lie to you. I just wanted to see if you would sign it." She picked it up to hand it to him, but he just dropped it and pleaded, "Samantha, please, please, I want to keep playing the game." "Really?" she said, "I did not think you really liked it. You just acted like all you wanted was sex." "Really, really, let's go, please," he was begging, "How can I prove it to you." She stopped getting dressed and smiled, "Okay, you seem to really want it, Brian. Tell me how much you want me." Brian started telling her how beautiful, how perfect and how sexy she was; Samantha was soon down to just having her corset on again, and this time she was building him towards a climax quickly. She was allowing his free hand to rub and touch her anywhere that he wanted, and each spot he touched excited him more than the last. He would run it along her silky stockings, stroke her inner thigh, rub the satin of her corset, squeeze her ample breasts, and trace her lips with his fingers. The last was his favorite, as she would inevitably take a finger or two into her mouth and lick or suck them. Meanwhile, Samantha skillfully played with his cock until it was as hard as it had ever been. She would let up, though, whenever he got close to an actual explosion. "Brian, I need to feel that you truly need this, in order for me to feel comfortable and let you back inside. Is that okay?" she quizzed him. "Oh I do, I do, Sam, please let me inside," he panted. "But, how do I know?" she asked. "How can you prove it to me?" "Whatever you want me to do, just tell me, and I will do it. Please tell me," He knew he needed this orgasm more than he had ever needed anything in his life. "I can think of one way," she grinned. "Okay, great, tell me." He was relieved as he thought that he would probably get some instructions that would allow him to cum. She got up, and he looked distraught as she walked across the room, but she settled him down. "It is okay baby. I just need to get something out of my briefcase." As she returned, she leaned across him and placed her nipple in his mouth. "Suck that baby, while I get everything ready." After a few seconds she pulled away and moved her face to his balls; she playfully tickled them with her tongue. Between licks and kisses on his cock, she said, "Baby, sign that sheet that I placed next to you, and we will finish this until you explode. I promise." When she finished speaking, Samantha placed her tongue at the base of his cock, next to his balls, and slowly brought it up the length of his shaft on his sensitive underside with one long lick. "Sure, what is it?" he managed to ask during a long groan caused by her tongue on his shaft, but he was already signing. While licking the top of his cock like a lollipop, she answered casually, "It is a form that says you are resigning from the Park Board, effective immediately following today's meeting." He did not know what to do; he did not want to end this incredible sensation, but he had questions and did not want to resign. Of course, he was at her mercy as he had just signed the form and tossed it to the floor. "This is like the other form, right?" he asked. "In what way, sexy?" she teased him by raising her eyebrows while pulling her face to his and kissing him. "About it not leaving this room, Samantha," he tentatively said this as his first priority was not angering her. "Oh, sure, Brian, it will never leave this room." She gently took his hard cock and held it straight as she lowered her pussy back onto him. She began rocking and thrusting, wanting this sex to be incredible for him. She had him nearly ready to cum when she took his free hand and guided it to her boob. He squeezed, as she asked, "Brian, can I ask you something, baby?" She moved up and down a couple more times as he nodded. She kept going, patiently waiting. As his face started to tighten, she knew he was close. She chose just that time to say, "Brian, baby, would you really have given up that project and your position for me?" "Yes, yes, of course, Samantha," he practically yelled; he started to cum instantly, and Samantha let him keep thrusting and allowed him to cum as much as he could. "Thank you, baby," she said when she finally climbed off. She walked the few steps to the shower. "That was awesome, Samantha; let me up, please, both legs and one arm are still not free," he was finally relieved and back to normal. "Just a second, honey, I am rinsing off; you got me all sticky," she yelled back into the room over the noise of the shower. Brian relaxed as best he could; he was still smiling from his experience. A few minutes later, Samantha emerged from the shower and started putting her clothes on. "You can lay there and watch me, baby; I know you want to remember this," she was rolling one stocking up as she spoke, and Brian did not argue. This was a great view. He watched the other one go on; then the corset went back on and finally the suit and her heels. She turned and started to walk away. "Uh, Sam, you forgot something," he said. He was still relaxed and almost laughing. Samantha laughed and walked back to the bed. Instead of unlocking the cuffs or untying the cords, though, she picked up the two signed forms, reached into his pants and pulled out his wallet and walked across the room. "What are you doing, Sam?" he asked, finally becoming concerned. "Faxing these forms to city hall, the newspaper, a couple of radio stations and the two local television stations, baby," she calmly answered. "What?" he exclaimed, "You said that no one would see them." "No, baby, I promised that the forms would not leave this room, and they will be right here when you are ready to leave. I told you that I would not lie," she clarified. "You, bitch, I will just deny that the forms are real. No one will believe them anyway," he angrily stated, though he was probably trying to convince himself as much as he was trying to convince her. "You can do that honey," she sweetly said, "I do not know how you will explain that the letters are on your company letterhead with your signature and a copy of your drivers license as proof of authenticity though." He watched as the first fax went through and said, "My letterhead." Samantha responded, "Yes, did I forget to mention that I took a few sheets from your receptionist's desk this morning? She just leaves it there by her printer, you know." She added, "Now Brian, I know you might be angry, but at the beginning of our game, I clearly said that there would be no lies, right?" Getting no response she continued, "And you did say that you really would give all that up for me, remember? So, that should not have been a lie." "I will not go along with this," he showed some resolve. "I will call the police and say that I was kidnapped and forced to do it." Samantha started laughing which infuriated him. "That is what happened," he nearly screamed. "Brian, baby, listen to yourself," she explained, "You will be free as soon as the last fax goes through. No one will find you tied up. And how on earth will you explain a kidnapping. Look at the facts: 1) You are with a twenty year old college student and no one else. 2) You drove us here; my car is still at your office. 3) When we got here, you ordered room service and paid with your credit card; you even met the waiter at the door alone. You obviously were not being kidnapped." "Okay all the faxes are gone, and my friend is in the parking lot to drive me back to my car. I will toss you the key as I leave. Thanks again," she told him. "But why?" he asked as the realization hit him that there was no way out. She answered, "Because the park redevelopment is a bad idea; surely you know that deep down. It is wrong to use your position to enrich yourself. This redevelopment needed to be stopped, and frankly, you needed to resign. You have done this too many times to be trusted anymore." "Now listen Brian; I have made it easy for you," she went on. "Read these letters that you signed so you can answer questions. The first one simply says that you have changed your mind about the park because you went there this week and saw all of the activities going on there. It is an easy enough to believe story, and you will look like a good guy in the media if you stand behind it. The second says that you are resigning after voting against the park because you need to spend more time with your family and with your business. You also hate being put into a position of having to make decisions like this due to budget issues." "Stick to my letters, Brian," she closed with, "and you will actually come out of this looking like a really great guy." And with that, she tossed the handcuff key to him and watched him catch it with his free hand. She left the room and walked outside to Chelsea's car and was driven to his office to pick up her car. Conclusion Brian Sullivan got to the meeting at noon and voted against the project. The project did not pass as Joseph McIntosh also voted against it, and Stan Eisen did not even show for the meeting. The press hounded Brian about his resignation, but all they got were comments like "The letters speak for themselves," or "No comment." Chelsea, Brittany and Samantha went back to Florida State University and graduated. They all ended up moving to the Atlanta area following college, and they are still great friends having a lot of fun.