Lap Dancer free porn video

Jennifer DiGregorio was bored. She was still taking a few college courses at night, and working at her step-father's bank in southern New Jersey, mostly saying no to poor Mexicans who were applying for loans. She sat across one swarthy laborer who had the papers to prove he had immigrated to America legally. He spoke in broken but understandable English. His name was Miguel Perez.

"I need to pay off my wife's hospital bills," he explained. "We have very big bills. She has been very sick. Now we have another child. Four young children! I do not have insurance."

"I'm sorry, Mr. Perez," she replied, staring at his application, "but we can't grant you a loan at this time."

"But I'm told your father is the president of this bank. Maybe you could ask him..." the Mexican suggested.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Perez," Jennifer repeated with slight irritation.

"The answer is no, then?" he asked.

"We can't give you a loan, Mr. Perez, " Jennifer answered coldly.

"And he's not my father. He's my step-father," she added.

The laborer sat hunched, his hands clasped as if he were praying.

"Quisiera sacar su vestido, falda, sujetador, y bragas. Entonces le ataría para arriba y le violaría."

What did you say?" Jennifer asked, her face reddening.

"I said 'Thank you for your trouble!'" He said looking up.

Jennifer knew what Miguel had said. She had studied Spanish in high school and college. But she rarely let people know she understood. She liked to hear what the Spanish laborers were saying about her.

"I would like to take off your dress, skirt, bra, and panties. Then I would tie you up and rape you." he had said.

Jennifer felt her face flush. The fantasy of a swarthy dirty laborer tearing off her clothes and mounting her had always excited her immensely. But in reality, she would never let a lowly Mexican come anywhere nearer to her than across her desk.

Except in Wildwood.

The Mexican rose slowly and headed towards the door. He turned towards her once more and stared brazenly at her breasts.

"Le he visto en la barra topless de la choza de Slut en Wildwood, puta." And then he left.

Jennifer felt her face turning a deep red. He had seen her in Wildwood! A couple of weekends a month, she drove there, about fifty miles away from Vineland, and enjoyed one of her secret thrills, "supplementing her income" as a sexy seamy lap dancer.

Her mother and step-father would be mortified if they knew that Luciana of the Slut Hut was their daughter Jennifer! Supposing someone else spotted her? But no, her family and friends would never go to a topless bar in Wildwood! And with all the " trash" she was wearing as Luciana, they wouldn't recognize her if they did! But Miguel Perez recognized her! Had she ever rubbed her pussy over his hardened cock? No. He couldn't afford her!

Jennifer DiGregorio should'nt have been alone. She was exceptionally good looking. She never failed to turn heads when she entered or left her office. The customers waiting at the teller line never bothered to hide their lecherous stares. She was tall, slender, and curvy with a tight stomach and buttocks, thanks to working out regularly in her own home gym. She had dark hair and Mediterranean good looks that she had inherited from her Italian-American father.

Peculiar and reclusive in nature, she lived alone, avoided a social life in her home town after hours, and had mostly bad memories of the guys who pursued her. Of course, most... all... of them wanted to get in her pants. But, she had yet to find a man who satisfied her need for erotic excitement. Well, maybe two.

She was no cold fish by any means. She became aroused far too very easily. The term would be nympho. But her best sex was by herself in her own fantasy world.

Jennifer DiGregorio sat alone at her computer most nights and went to porn sites. Not just ordinary porn sites, but porn sites specializing in bondage, rape, and violence against woman. The subject that she openly spoke out against outside, aroused her immensely inside.

She used her lap dancer name, "Luciana," and chatted with all sorts of guys, sending them nude pictures of herself (which she took with her digital camera). One guy knew how to manipulate photos, and sent her back his creations of himself raping, strangling, hanging, and dismembering her. And with each photo she received, she would have a massive climax.

"Ladykiller69" wanted desperately to meet Jennifer, but she feared him. She had no desire to be raped and murdered in real life, but she was obsessed with him. Chat sessions and e-mails flew between them everyday. She couldn't wait to get home, get online with him, then work out and work off her sexual energy. And of course she came at least once every night.

"Quisiera sacar su vestido, falda, sujetador, y bragas. Entonces le ataría para arriba y le violaría."

She thought about what the Mexican had said. He wanted to tear off her clothes and mount her! She could picture the scene as if it were really happening. She was screaming as the short but powerful man emerged from a dark closet in her bedroom, grabbing her from behind, his calloused brown hands crushing her breasts. She knew who he was.

"Mr. Perez!" she begged. "No! Please! I beg of you!" But he was all over her, ripping off her proper white bank blouse, unsnapping her flimsy- laced bra, unbuttoning her gray pinstriped business skirt, yanking down her naughty panties. Her garments on the floor, she cowered helplessly before him as he unzipped his filthy pants. He grabbed her by her hair and pushed her downward.

"Hello Ladykiller69," she tapped at the keyboard. "What are you doing tonight?.

"I've finally figured out who you really are!" he replied. "I'm planning my trip to your town. I'm gonna fuck your eyeballs out, then crush your pretty white-girl neck you slowly as you cum. Your body will twitch as you take my load in your ass."

She sent him a smirking symbol. "Where do I live?" she asked.

"If I told you, you would know for sure," he replied. "But I won't tell you. So you will be uncertain. Terrified and uncertain."

"Oh, BS," she tapped. "You have no idea where I live."

"Greensboro, North Carolina," he replied.

Jennifer was seated at the PC in her bra and panties. First she laughed. Then, imagining that Ladykiller69 really knew where she lived, she slipped her hand deep inside her panties, and began to moan.

"Fuck! How did you know where I live?" she tapped.

He replied without words, just a smirking smiley face.

"Oh God! Oh God! Oh God!" Jennifer cried out as she came.

Jennifer had had a few boyfriends. They all wanted to hump her. And some did. But she felt no thrill. There was no impending threat, no peril, no "damsel in distress" feeling.

Only two men thrilled her. Because she knew neither could have her. Her step-father Jonathan was too proper. A fundamentalist southern Baptist, he had moved to New Jersey, where he met Jennifer's mother Gayle. How Jennifer enjoyed watching him keep his distance, crossing his legs awkwardly as he sat facing her--too close, too close for his comfort-- and shuffling nervously as he always did when they were alone. Watching him lust for her turned her on immensely.

The other man who thrilled her was her own father Bobby, whom she visited in New Jersey every few weeks. Bobby made no bones about his sexual interest in his daughter.

In fact, he was her favorite "client" at the Slut Hut, paying her exorbitant tips to writhe and squirm on his lap until her thong and his pants were soaked with sweat and cum. But that was the extent of their intimacy. He swore he would never fuck her. And Jennifer wanted him to so desperately!

Bobby was tanned and muscular in his fifties, with dark hair streaked with gray. Wealthy from questionable dealings, he had young foxes constantly chasing him. But his greatest sexual thrill was when the ass and pussy of his own lap dancer, Luciana, enflamed his desires. Bobby would die for his daughter, and often gave her money. But Jennifer didn't want to take money from him. He was always good to her. Jonathan, her step-father, never gave her money. He was a fucking cheapskate.

Jennifer's mother and father had divorced many years ago as the result of Bobby's infidelity, creating turmoil for Jennifer and her two brothers. Jonathan married Gayle a few years after the divorce, and offered Jennifer a job as a loan officer.

Jennifer was just over 21, so she no longer felt the need to tell her mom and step-dad when she would go away on certain weekends. Gayle worried about her daughter, and Jonathan warned her about the evils of life, but they had no choice but to give her space.

Jennifer's special weekend had arrived!

It was a muggy Saturday night off the boardwalk at Wildwood, and the Slut Hut was thick with young people and old perverts, eager to touch beautiful girls.

Jennifer's tanned body was sweaty from gyrating on the stage with a tiny frontless fur coat and bikini bottom. A dozen men stared up at her, always flicking her pubic hair mischievously as they stuffed dollar bills under her flimsy bikini. Her father was nowhere in sight that night. One man pushed ahead of the others and flashed a fifty dollar bill at her. The stage lights were very bright, and it was hard to see the clients.

"Private lap dance?" Jennifer-now Luciana-asked, already knowing the answer.

The man turned towards the private room, and the tall beauty followed him. She gazed at the back of the man she was about to thrill for about five minutes. Not bad. Five minutes for fifty dollars! He was short and stocky, with greasy black hair. Alone in the small dark room, he sat on a comfortable recliner. Jennifer did some sexy movements for him, but he motioned for her to sit on his lap.

He looked so familiar! But she couldn't place him. She sat down facing him, her barely covered pussy on top of his covered prick. She began writhing, quickly becoming excited by the growing bulge that settled between her loins.

"Mr. Perez!" she exclaimed. "I thought you had... no money!"

"I have money for you!" he laughed, His powerful stumpy fingers digging into her breasts.

There was no security camera in the room. "Uh no!" she cried. "You mustn't touch me!" He removed his grip but left bright red marks.

"It goes with the turf," she had often said to herself.

Two hours later, after she said goodbye to her coworkers and was entering her car in the darkened parking lot, she failed to look behind her. Miguel Perez's hand squelched her scream.

"I will not harm you," he said. "I desperately need money for my family. I know your step-father runs the bank. I will abduct you and release you when they pay me money.

"The parking lot was deserted save for them. "You will not scream," he said. "If you do,

"Le mataré. I will kill you!

He removed his hands from her mouth and Jennifer took a deep breath. "You want to abduct me and have my step-father pay you ransom!" she said. "How much will you ask for?"

"$5000 will help my family," he said. "I am not a greedy man. ¡Soy desesperado! I am desperate!"

"You love your family!" she said.

"Sí, señora hermosa! ¡Pero ahora le deseo!" he exclaimed, unbuttoning her blouse.

"No!" she cried! Not now! But I will help you! You cannot do this alone. I know how to plot and plan and get more money for you and me! Will you let me be your partner instead of your victim?"

Miguel Perez tweeked her left nipple for a few moments, laughing at its immediate hardness.

"Sí, señora hermosa!"

Jennifer had to practically beat the Mexican off her. He laughed as she pried his fingers off her breast, and ugly purple bruises remained.

"Dammit, Miguel," she yelled, "do you want to get money or no money? I told you you wouldn't be able to do it by yourself! You know squat about American ways and how to convince people you've abducted me!"

"Yes I do!" the laborer laughed. "I just abduct you and send a note

to your step-father! He sends the money to me and I release you! Then, I am on my way"

"On your way to jail!" Jennifer yelled.

"You asshole! Your application for a loan is in the bank records. They'll check all the people who came to me for loans! They'll nail your ass to the wall!" But I only I can discard your application record. Only I can do that! I haven't entered it in computer yet. It's still in my desk drawer. If I am missing, they will check my last transactions. They will search my desk drawers! You can't do this without my help!

Having pried herself away from him, she told him to get out of the car.

"I'll create a ransom note and leave it on my bed," she said. And I'll

tell them when and where they should leave the money."

"Why should I trust you?" he asked as he backed out of her car. "Why wouldn't you turn me in to the police and say I tried to abduct you! How do I know you won't do this?"

"And give up the opportunity of making lots of money?" she replied.

"You have no choice, Miguel! You have to trust me! I wasn't able to grant you a loan, but I can help you this way. But we have to make it appear as if I'm really abducted. We have to make it work. I know the system. I know the bank. I know my step-father. I can make it work."

"But all I wanted was enough money to pay our medical bills," Miguel said.

"I am not a bad person. I am not a thief! I need to help my family! I just need

$5000! "

"Miguel," she replied coldly. Without me, you won't get a dime. We both need the money. Go home. I will contact you!"

Jennifer started the engine, but Miguel leaned into the window.

"if you deceive me... if you turn me in... you will hurt my family.

And then

¡Le lastimaré! I will hurt you!"

As usual, Jennifer returned to Vineland the next day, Sunday, and went to work at the bank. She had told a little white lie to Miguel Perez. Of course she had entered his application request into the computer, and there was no way it could be removed.

But she had to convince him that he needed her as a partner in the "abduction." After all, he might have hurt her at the very least! She convinced him that she, and only she, could dispose of his application. And if the bank suspected him, she would say that he did abduct her. After all, it was his idea!

She skipped college classes that night, and met Miguel. Together, they finalized their plan, with Miguel mostly saying yes to Jennifer's ideas. Using a tape recorder, she made him repeat a few phrases over and over, until he almost sounded like a New Jersey native.

She returned to her condo and hardly slept that night. She woke up early, packed some casual clothes, makeup, and all her money and jewelry in a suitcase, and then proceeded to trash her place. An outside patio entered her bedroom, so she left the sliding door slightly open as if an intruder had slipped in while she was sleeping. Then she typed a ransom note on the computer and left it in her printer:

And then Jennifer smiled, pecking another paragraph on the keyboard:

$5000 for Miguel, $45,000 for me! Jennifer settled near the computer and vibrated herself to climax.

Jennifer had a seedy apartment in Wildwood that she used on weekends when she was performing as a lap dancer. And, against her better judgment, she told Miguel where it was. Jennifer didn't always make the right decisions. She was a rookie at the game of deception. Hell, she was barely over 21!

They agreed to meet at her Wildwood apartment two days after she left the note. "How much ransom did you ask for?" he said.

Jennifer DiGregorio was bored. She was still taking a few college courses at night, and working at her step-father's bank in southern New Jersey, mostly saying no to poor Mexicans who were applying for loans. She sat across one swarthy laborer who had the papers to prove he had immigrated to America legally. He spoke in broken but understandable English. His name was Miguel Perez.

"I need to pay off my wife's hospital bills," he explained. "We have very big bills. She has been very sick. Now we have another child. Four young children! I do not have insurance."

"I'm sorry, Mr. Perez," she replied, staring at his application, "but we can't grant you a loan at this time."

"But I'm told your father is the president of this bank. Maybe you could ask him..." the Mexican suggested.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Perez," Jennifer repeated with slight irritation.

"The answer is no, then?" he asked.

"We can't give you a loan, Mr. Perez, " Jennifer answered coldly.

"And he's not my father. He's my step-father," she added.

The laborer sat hunched, his hands clasped as if he were praying.

"Quisiera sacar su vestido, falda, sujetador, y bragas. Entonces le ataría para arriba y le violaría."

What did you say?" Jennifer asked, her face reddening.

"I said 'Thank you for your trouble!'" He said looking up.

Jennifer knew what Miguel had said. She had studied Spanish in high school and college. But she rarely let people know she understood. She liked to hear what the Spanish laborers were saying about her.

"I would like to take off your dress, skirt, bra, and panties. Then I would tie you up and rape you." he had said.

Jennifer felt her face flush. The fantasy of a swarthy dirty laborer tearing off her clothes and mounting her had always excited her immensely. But in reality, she would never let a lowly Mexican come anywhere nearer to her than across her desk.

Except in Wildwood.

The Mexican rose slowly and headed towards the door. He turned towards her once more and stared brazenly at her breasts.

"Le he visto en la barra topless de la choza de Slut en Wildwood, puta." And then he left.

Jennifer felt her face turning a deep red. He had seen her in Wildwood! A couple of weekends a month, she drove there, about fifty miles away from Vineland, and enjoyed one of her secret thrills, "supplementing her income" as a sexy seamy lap dancer.

Her mother and step-father would be mortified if they knew that Luciana of the Slut Hut was their daughter Jennifer! Supposing someone else spotted her? But no, her family and friends would never go to a topless bar in Wildwood! And with all the " trash" she was wearing as Luciana, they wouldn't recognize her if they did! But Miguel Perez recognized her! Had she ever rubbed her pussy over his hardened cock? No. He couldn't afford her!

Jennifer DiGregorio should'nt have been alone. She was exceptionally good looking. She never failed to turn heads when she entered or left her office. The customers waiting at the teller line never bothered to hide their lecherous stares. She was tall, slender, and curvy with a tight stomach and buttocks, thanks to working out regularly in her own home gym. She had dark hair and Mediterranean good looks that she had inherited from her Italian-American father.

Peculiar and reclusive in nature, she lived alone, avoided a social life in her home town after hours, and had mostly bad memories of the guys who pursued her. Of course, most... all... of them wanted to get in her pants. But, she had yet to find a man who satisfied her need for erotic excitement. Well, maybe two.

She was no cold fish by any means. She became aroused far too very easily. The term would be nympho. But her best sex was by herself in her own fantasy world.

Jennifer DiGregorio sat alone at her computer most nights and went to porn sites. Not just ordinary porn sites, but porn sites specializing in bondage, rape, and violence against woman. The subject that she openly spoke out against outside, aroused her immensely inside.

She used her lap dancer name, "Luciana," and chatted with all sorts of guys, sending them nude pictures of herself (which she took with her digital camera). One guy knew how to manipulate photos, and sent her back his creations of himself raping, strangling, hanging, and dismembering her. And with each photo she received, she would have a massive climax.

"Ladykiller69" wanted desperately to meet Jennifer, but she feared him. She had no desire to be raped and murdered in real life, but she was obsessed with him. Chat sessions and e-mails flew between them everyday. She couldn't wait to get home, get online with him, then work out and work off her sexual energy. And of course she came at least once every night.

"Quisiera sacar su vestido, falda, sujetador, y bragas. Entonces le ataría para arriba y le violaría."

She thought about what the Mexican had said. He wanted to tear off her clothes and mount her! She could picture the scene as if it were really happening. She was screaming as the short but powerful man emerged from a dark closet in her bedroom, grabbing her from behind, his calloused brown hands crushing her breasts. She knew who he was.

"Mr. Perez!" she begged. "No! Please! I beg of you!" But he was all over her, ripping off her proper white bank blouse, unsnapping her flimsy- laced bra, unbuttoning her gray pinstriped business skirt, yanking down her naughty panties. Her garments on the floor, she cowered helplessly before him as he unzipped his filthy pants. He grabbed her by her hair and pushed her downward.

"Hello Ladykiller69," she tapped at the keyboard. "What are you doing tonight?.

"I've finally figured out who you really are!" he replied. "I'm planning my trip to your town. I'm gonna fuck your eyeballs out, then crush your pretty white-girl neck you slowly as you cum. Your body will twitch as you take my load in your ass."

She sent him a smirking symbol. "Where do I live?" she asked.

"If I told you, you would know for sure," he replied. "But I won't tell you. So you will be uncertain. Terrified and uncertain."

"Oh, BS," she tapped. "You have no idea where I live."

"Greensboro, North Carolina," he replied.

Jennifer was seated at the PC in her bra and panties. First she laughed. Then, imagining that Ladykiller69 really knew where she lived, she slipped her hand deep inside her panties, and began to moan.

"Fuck! How did you know where I live?" she tapped.

He replied without words, just a smirking smiley face.

"Oh God! Oh God! Oh God!" Jennifer cried out as she came.

Jennifer had had a few boyfriends. They all wanted to hump her. And some did. But she felt no thrill. There was no impending threat, no peril, no "damsel in distress" feeling.

Only two men thrilled her. Because she knew neither could have her. Her step-father Jonathan was too proper. A fundamentalist southern Baptist, he had moved to New Jersey, where he met Jennifer's mother Gayle. How Jennifer enjoyed watching him keep his distance, crossing his legs awkwardly as he sat facing her--too close, too close for his comfort-- and shuffling nervously as he always did when they were alone. Watching him lust for her turned her on immensely.

The other man who thrilled her was her own father Bobby, whom she visited in New Jersey every few weeks. Bobby made no bones about his sexual interest in his daughter.

In fact, he was her favorite "client" at the Slut Hut, paying her exorbitant tips to writhe and squirm on his lap until her thong and his pants were soaked with sweat and cum. But that was the extent of their intimacy. He swore he would never fuck her. And Jennifer wanted him to so desperately!

Bobby was tanned and muscular in his fifties, with dark hair streaked with gray. Wealthy from questionable dealings, he had young foxes constantly chasing him. But his greatest sexual thrill was when the ass and pussy of his own lap dancer, Luciana, enflamed his desires. Bobby would die for his daughter, and often gave her money. But Jennifer didn't want to take money from him. He was always good to her. Jonathan, her step-father, never gave her money. He was a fucking cheapskate.

Jennifer's mother and father had divorced many years ago as the result of Bobby's infidelity, creating turmoil for Jennifer and her two brothers. Jonathan married Gayle a few years after the divorce, and offered Jennifer a job as a loan officer.

Jennifer was just over 21, so she no longer felt the need to tell her mom and step-dad when she would go away on certain weekends. Gayle worried about her daughter, and Jonathan warned her about the evils of life, but they had no choice but to give her space.

Jennifer's special weekend had arrived!

It was a muggy Saturday night off the boardwalk at Wildwood, and the Slut Hut was thick with young people and old perverts, eager to touch beautiful girls.

Jennifer's tanned body was sweaty from gyrating on the stage with a tiny frontless fur coat and bikini bottom. A dozen men stared up at her, always flicking her pubic hair mischievously as they stuffed dollar bills under her flimsy bikini. Her father was nowhere in sight that night. One man pushed ahead of the others and flashed a fifty dollar bill at her. The stage lights were very bright, and it was hard to see the clients.

"Private lap dance?" Jennifer-now Luciana-asked, already knowing the answer.

The man turned towards the private room, and the tall beauty followed him. She gazed at the back of the man she was about to thrill for about five minutes. Not bad. Five minutes for fifty dollars! He was short and stocky, with greasy black hair. Alone in the small dark room, he sat on a comfortable recliner. Jennifer did some sexy movements for him, but he motioned for her to sit on his lap.

He looked so familiar! But she couldn't place him. She sat down facing him, her barely covered pussy on top of his covered prick. She began writhing, quickly becoming excited by the growing bulge that settled between her loins.

"Mr. Perez!" she exclaimed. "I thought you had... no money!"

"I have money for you!" he laughed, His powerful stumpy fingers digging into her breasts.

There was no security camera in the room. "Uh no!" she cried. "You mustn't touch me!" He removed his grip but left bright red marks.

"It goes with the turf," she had often said to herself.

Two hours later, after she said goodbye to her coworkers and was entering her car in the darkened parking lot, she failed to look behind her. Miguel Perez's hand squelched her scream.

"I will not harm you," he said. "I desperately need money for my family. I know your step-father runs the bank. I will abduct you and release you when they pay me money.

"The parking lot was deserted save for them. "You will not scream," he said. "If you do,

"Le mataré. I will kill you!

He removed his hands from her mouth and Jennifer took a deep breath. "You want to abduct me and have my step-father pay you ransom!" she said. "How much will you ask for?"

"$5000 will help my family," he said. "I am not a greedy man. ¡Soy desesperado! I am desperate!"

"You love your family!" she said.

"Sí, señora hermosa! ¡Pero ahora le deseo!" he exclaimed, unbuttoning her blouse.

"No!" she cried! Not now! But I will help you! You cannot do this alone. I know how to plot and plan and get more money for you and me! Will you let me be your partner instead of your victim?"

Miguel Perez tweeked her left nipple for a few moments, laughing at its immediate hardness.

"Sí, señora hermosa!"

Chapter 2

Jennifer had to practically beat the Mexican off her. He laughed as she pried his fingers off her breast, and ugly purple bruises remained.

"Dammit, Miguel," she yelled, "do you want to get money or no money? I told you you wouldn't be able to do it by yourself! You know squat about American ways and how to convince people you've abducted me!"

"Yes I do!" the laborer laughed. "I just abduct you and send a note

to your step-father! He sends the money to me and I release you! Then, I am on my way"

"On your way to jail!" Jennifer yelled.

"You asshole! Your application for a loan is in the bank records. They'll check all the people who came to me for loans! They'll nail your ass to the wall!" But I only I can discard your application record. Only I can do that! I haven't entered it in computer yet. It's still in my desk drawer. If I am missing, they will check my last transactions. They will search my desk drawers! You can't do this without my help!

Having pried herself away from him, she told him to get out of the car.

"I'll create a ransom note and leave it on my bed," she said. And I'll

tell them when and where they should leave the money."

"Why should I trust you?" he asked as he backed out of her car. "Why wouldn't you turn me in to the police and say I tried to abduct you! How do I know you won't do this?"

"And give up the opportunity of making lots of money?" she replied.

"You have no choice, Miguel! You have to trust me! I wasn't able to grant you a loan, but I can help you this way. But we have to make it appear as if I'm really abducted. We have to make it work. I know the system. I know the bank. I know my step-father. I can make it work."

"But all I wanted was enough money to pay our medical bills," Miguel said.

"I am not a bad person. I am not a thief! I need to help my family! I just need

$5000! "

"Miguel," she replied coldly. Without me, you won't get a dime. We both need the money. Go home. I will contact you!"

Jennifer started the engine, but Miguel leaned into the window.

"if you deceive me... if you turn me in... you will hurt my family.

And then

¡Le lastimaré! I will hurt you!"

As usual, Jennifer returned to Vineland the next day, Sunday, and went to work at the bank. She had told a little white lie to Miguel Perez. Of course she had entered his application request into the computer, and there was no way it could be removed.

But she had to convince him that he needed her as a partner in the "abduction." After all, he might have hurt her at the very least! She convinced him that she, and only she, could dispose of his application. And if the bank suspected him, she would say that he did abduct her. After all, it was his idea!

She skipped college classes that night, and met Miguel. Together, they finalized their plan, with Miguel mostly saying yes to Jennifer's ideas. Using a tape recorder, she made him repeat a few phrases over and over, until he almost sounded like a New Jersey native.

She returned to her condo and hardly slept that night. She woke up early, packed some casual clothes, makeup, and all her money and jewelry in a suitcase, and then proceeded to trash her place. An outside patio entered her bedroom, so she left the sliding door slightly open as if an intruder had slipped in while she was sleeping. Then she typed a ransom note on the computer and left it in her printer:

JONATHAN HELMS-- YOU WILL PAY ME $50,000 IN
UNMARKED BILLS TO RELEASE JENNIFER.
I WILL CALL IN INSTRUCTIONS
IF YOU CALL POLICE, I WILL KILL HER.

And then Jennifer smiled, pecking another paragraph on the keyboard:

SHE IS A VERY SEXY GIRL! IF YOU CALL POLICE, I WILL FUCK HER OVER AND OVER BEFORE I KILL HER. YOU WILL NEVER FIND HER.

$5000 for Miguel, $45,000 for me! Jennifer settled near the computer and vibrated herself to climax.

Jennifer had a seedy apartment in Wildwood that she used on weekends when she was performing as a lap dancer. And, against her better judgment, she told Miguel where it was. Jennifer didn't always make the right decisions. She was a rookie at the game of deception. Hell, she was barely over 21!

They agreed to meet at her Wildwood apartment two days after she left the note. "How much ransom did you ask for?" he said.