Chapter Two.

London, 1968.

At the tender age of sixteen, Tiffany was well on the way to becoming a popular face. High-street brands required teen models to promote their designs for this age range. Popular names such as Woolworths, Marks & Spencer, and C&A all have departments that cater to adolescents, offering products for both girls and boys. Stores also required campaign material to display in their window and hang around the teen department. Typically, campaigns follow the seasons of spring, summer, autumn, and winter; however, with the turnover of clothing increasing significantly, many shots are needed throughout the year, as brands regularly look for new faces.

Within two years, Tiff had developed into a leggy blonde with an attractive face, and she inevitably began to show more flesh, appearing in skimpy bathing costumes and lingerie. She gravitated towards glamour modelling, taking on more work that required little to no clothing. These images were targeted at men, and the vivacious blonde could be found on page 3 of daily newspapers, swimsuit calendars, and the occasional top-shelf men's magazine. All tastefully photographed.

Her mother had been fully supportive of her daughter's blossoming career and had signed her with a London modelling agency. While it's possible to work freelance, it is generally much harder, as more time must be spent finding and getting invited to job interviews. Being signed is a slightly more stress-free way to find work. You will also have the support of industry professionals.

Which was where she met Ray. He was five years older than her and was very gentle and retiring. They had an instant affection for each other and began dating almost immediately. Ray reminded Tiff of one of her idols, Glam Rock star Marc Bolan, with his unruly mop of brown corkscrew hair and affectionate dimpled smile.

It was 1970, Tiffany was eighteen, and a virgin.

Over the next year, they became a steady couple. They saw lots of each other, and Tiffany fucked and sucked her beau as often as she ate and breathed. Even so, the pair of lovers kept a certain independence, and the enthusiastic girl did not stay loyal during that time. As he still lived with his parents, Tiffany moved into a flat to share with her cousin Jo, and things were looking up for the ambitious young girl.

x

It was 1971, Tiffany was nineteen, and certainly no virgin.

Ray had used whatever influences he had to get Tiffany plenty of assignments and commercial work. As the money rolled in, she helped Jo spruce up the flat, making it pretty and comfortable.

With every free chance they got, the couple convened at a small studio Ray rented in Soho, and he shot rolls upon rolls of exposures. Tiffany always felt a thrill in front of a lens. Be it a still camera or film. Even though she had a seemingly innocent demeanour, the high-spirited nineteen-year-old always felt exhilarated getting her kit off. She had a bubbly, effervescent personality, which came across in her pictures. Ray was besotted with the girl, loving how the camera lens highlighted her warm and glowing skin. She was a fresh thing, eager to please, and without any inhibitions.

"Can you lose the top, darling?"

Tiffany pulled the red Adidas tee over her head and posed this way and that in just her knickers and knee-length white and red socks. Ray's cameras flashed constantly, and the two big lights were hot on her peachy skin. She knew her lover had an erection. He always did, bless him. Today's set-up was highlighted by a large twin bed. Ray had two cameras on either side of tripods, slightly at an angle, but focused squarely around the bed.

Tiffany looked directly into the lens, which was just inches away from her pretty face. Her wide eyes blinked as he snapped her topless. He encouraged her to play with her underwear, and she slipped a finger under the edge of her knickers and caressed the insides of her inner thighs, just avoiding her prominent pussy mound.

"Gosh, Ray. I'm getting turned on. Shall we do a few racy shots?"

"You read my mind," he said with a big grin.

The giggling blonde babe lay back on the bed and spread her willowy pins. The shape of her mons could be seen clearly under the slightly damp undies.

Ray snapped away, moving closer and closer, watching his girl bend her legs at the knees and fondle her tits. Her winsome body undulated on the bed as he put his camera to one side and cupped her mound. As he squeezed, her back arched accordingly. He tugged on her underwear and drew them over her long legs to expose her sex. His hands spread her thighs open, and he probed her delicious pussy. Tiff let out soft yelps as he sank his middle digit inside her golden bush.

"Oh, baby!"

Ray's wet mouth met her pussy, and he pushed his wriggling tongue into her hot slit. She raked her fingers through his thick mop of hair and fantasised it was the singer of T Rex eating her out. He stoked her fire with rapid swipes that soon had her leaking juices over his lips and chin.

"Come on, baby. Let's do it!"

Ray grunted as he fumbled with the fly of his Levi jeans. When it was open, he wrenched his erect cock out of the tight confines. Tiffany smiled, unable to hide her girlish surprise every time she saw a cock standing to attention.

"You're so big!" she squealed as he stripped off and stroked his aching dick.

He took hold of her shapely legs and pushed them against his shoulders as he lowered himself on top of her. Her pale skin felt warm against his as he widened her legs and pinned her beneath him. He entered her, and her pussy sheathed his throbbing boner like a velvet glove. So turned on was he that he immediately began to ram into her softness over and over. With her legs up high, the angle of penetration made for a tight fit as he continued to lunge into her. She grabbed both his bum cheeks in her hands as she sighed contentedly and did her best to absorb the heavy shunts of his hurried thrusts.

"Ohhhhhh! Yesss!"

She moaned as his stiff dick glided in and out of her tight snatch.

"Ohhhhhh! Yesss!"

She cried as her entire body became heated and tingly.

"Ohhhhhh! Nooo!"

His body stiffened, and he cried out as he began to empty his seed into the young girl. A steady gush of cum jolted out of his pulsating cock as a frenzied ecstasy roared through him. The man then lay on top of her for several seconds before he rolled his spent body off hers. Tiffany scowled as he gave her a Kleenex and lay back panting. She inserted it in her squishy quim and snorted.

"For flip's sake, Ray! I would like to have an orgasm myself. Just for a change, you understand."

"Sorry, darling. You're just so sexy, I can never hold back."

Ray spread his hands in an apology as the frustrated blonde filly took off to the bathroom. He watched the naked young girl scurry away with a shake of her hips and a wiggle of her cute buns.

"Bugger!"

xxx

The Bahamas, 1972.

Tiffany Jones entered the Pigeon Cay Beach Club accompanied by her photographer boyfriend, Ray, and smiled to herself. Every pair of eyes in the lobby and reception were on her as she and Ray headed for the elevator. A fairly tall five feet seven, the stunning and effervescent blonde fashion model from England sashayed through the main lobby with a roll of her hips and ass. Ray hit the button for the lift as Tiffany stood and drank in the adoration. Her luscious, nubile body was quite visible under her lightweight chiffon Kimono cover with the open front cut, and her firm breasts thrust out proudly in her bikini top.

"I love the Bahamas. It's like no other place on Earth."

Tiffany's eyes glazed over. The Bahamas. The island of love, of sloe eyes half, half-naked maidens washing their long tresses in waterfalls, a-la a Silverkrin shampoo commercial. The best-kept secret of The Bahamas is the country's sheer size and diversity. With no less than sixteen major islands, the Bahamas is an unmatched destination, a heart-pounding adventure across 100,000 square miles of the world's clearest ocean.

x

A week before, Tiffany received a phone call from Uncle Arthur, who sounded like he was in a frightful state.

"You're about to head off to the Bahamas for an exotic photo shoot. Must be terribly exciting,"

Her Uncle spoke in an educated voice as Tiffany cradled the phone to her ear.

"Yes. I'm doing a filmed commercial for Manikin Cigars. Quite a big deal."

"Rather, I've seen those on television. Certainly a bit spicy. Anyway, after your last success, we thought this might be a perfect opportunity for you to take on another assignment."

"Go on."

"Next year will see the Island's independence from Her Majesty's Rule, and we would like to wrap up the unseemly trade in sex slaves. The Queen hopes that all future visits from our country, especially the young women, can holiday in safety and without fear of being kidnapped by unscrupulous traders."

"Sounds like you want me to be kidnapped."

There was a pregnant pause over the line as her Uncle refused to commit himself.

"Wait. You DO want me to be kidnapped?"

"It's the best opportunity we have, Tiffany. You go undercover, find the location of Mister Big and his despicable harem, and get in touch with the British Consulate. What could be simpler? You were splendid in the way you dealt with the Zardanian affair."

"I was rather."

This is an important mission, and I have high hopes that you'll do just fine."

"Can you put us up in a decent room?"

"Of course. And any other expenses you incur will be paid by the Government."

"Alright, it's a deal."

Truth be told, the adventure in London the previous month had been an exhilarating one for the wide-eyed filly, and she had gone over the events in her mind several times since. Reliving the whole thing.

x

Accepting her role as bait, Tiffany and Ray flew to the Bahamas and checked into the hotel. Situated about one mile off the main road at the northern end of Cat Island, the Beach Club was only a few steps away from the sea. Cat Island is quiet and unassuming, but it has treasures to offer. Anchored by Mt. Alvernia, the Bahamas' highest point, its untouched landscape is perfect for diving, kiteboarding, and meandering along miles of rolling hills, nature trails, and an eight-mile pink sand beach. Each room was decorated in a Southwestern Caribbean style. Stucco and tiles with wooden floors throughout. After unpacking, the couple dined on homemade conch chowder and a basket of sweet fries.

x

On the first day, Tiffany pitched up at the Big Bay Beach with Ray in tow, looking her most captivating in her green bikini. There was a nice stretch of almost white sand for a good mile in both directions, lined with mature palm trees and clear blue water. She took off her large sunglasses, and her radiant and fresh features were revealed. Big grey eyes under long lashes complemented her high cheekbones and permanent pout.

"We can set up here, I think," said Ray as he eyed up the light for filming and taking photographs.

The shoot on the beach finally began at three in the afternoon, and the heat of the day was still oppressive, with temperatures of 80 degrees F. Tiffany was at her usual gorgeous best in a crochet bikini with a pretty flower motif pattern. Her soft strawberry-blonde tresses fell over her shoulders in a glimmering curtain. Newly applied sun tan lotion covered her body, which warmed under the brilliant sunlight and gave her pliant flesh an astonishing sexual allure.

"We're all set up and ready, buttercup."

Tiffany lifted her face and composed herself as she got into the mood, and Ray loaded his camera and laid out two towels. What could only be described as a gang of youthful black men watched intently from a distance, and Tiffany could make out low murmuring and certain gestures. Ever the professional, she moved into various poses as Ray rattled off dozens of snaps.

"We'll get some establishing shots of you today, and then tomorrow I think we'll include those palm trees with the product."

She posed with her hands on her hips, blew kisses into the lens, danced on the sand, and jiggled her pert rump in an erotic reverie. Her eyes twinkled and her smouldering lips pursed, and she lifted her cascading hair above her head.

"Nice, very nice."

Tiffany's bare torso fluttered, and her long legs never stopped moving as the camera captured her natural beauty and sensuous curves.

"Now take the top off."

Tiffany knelt on the hot sand and unhooked her bikini top behind her back. Her perky tits were freed up, and already her stiff nipples poked out. She played up to the camera, running the pink tip of her tongue over moist lips and flashing her long lashes. Her fingers danced across her stomach and occasionally over her tits as she posed gracefully. The long hair dropped over her bare shoulders and chest, and the onlooking crowd grew restless.

"I think this might be a good time to call it a day."

Tiffany noted the reaction she had drummed up in the locals and agreed with Ray. She had not informed her boyfriend of her assignment lest he panic and give the game away.

"Come on. Let's get some food."

x

The evening had been pleasant in the glamourous hotel, and by the time the couple turned in, the full moon was shining brightly in the night sky. Tiffany had no particular plan in mind to entice the slave traders, except to flaunt herself flagrantly in public and on the beach and hope to attract attention. That first night, after taking a refreshing shower, Tiffany snuggled into a white bath towel with her back to the open window. Suddenly, she had the notion that someone was watching her. She whipped around only to find nobody in sight. On the second night, as she lay next to Ray in the large bed, she fancied that she could make out moving shadows cast onto the bedroom walls.

She padded barefoot and naked to the door to their room and opened it a crack. She jumped back when she saw four pairs of hooded eyes peer back at her. The men burst open, and the dark-complexioned men stood there in the shadows. Before she could react, she was pulled into a standing position and her arms were dragged behind her back, and a pair of old iron cuffs were clamped on her wrists.

"Bring da girl, leave da man. It's only she we want."

"Hey! What do..."

Ray received a love tap on the chin, and he was out like a light. Tiffany gasped as sackcloth was pulled over her head, and her nose experienced a nasty animal smell. A drawstring was tugged to make the sack pull in tight, and Tiffany's pert breasts heaved as she struggled, the rosy tips standing hard and erect. By contrast, the captivating white-skinned babe felt rough black hands paw at her as she was half-dragged, carried from the room. As her heart raced, Tiffany gagged under the stinking sack and fainted in her captor's strong arms.

x

Tiffany was lying on a small cot, her arms still behind her, her wrists still secured by the cuffs. She awoke slowly, and her eyes were now adjusted to the light. She looked up in fright at the six-foot-plus black man who stood menacingly over her. He looked her all over from her lithe pins to her rosy, pointed tits. Although on the Island for two days, her skin was still milky white.

"English. Men pay plenty for white English women."

"You're not selling me, Buster."

Presumably, this is Mister Big, she thought.

"Dat is wrong. Why are you on the Island?"

"H...oliday," she stammered.

He sat on the cot next to her, and she tilted her head up as the barrel rode up and down her golden bush. A rough hand parted her legs and made contact with her puffy labia.

"The man. He your boyfriend?"

"Yes."

"Do either of you know of foreigners disappearing?

"N...no."

"I like your spirit. You will do fine."

"Keep a stiff upper lip, girl," she told herself, using that traditional idiom of a proud and stoic British people.

"Bossman! Bossman. We got de problem! Quickly now."

Mister Big snorted loudly and got up noisily.

"Remember where me left it. Me be back soon."

Just as the blonde babe had resigned herself to the inevitable, the man withdrew, thankfully leaving her alone.

x

About an hour later, just as the sun began to rise, two women stepped into the beach hut and gestured to Tiffany to remain silent. The gorgeous women were identical twins, both five feet seven with silken black hair cut just below their shoulders and dark eyes. They looked to be about twenty years of age and were in matching crochet-type bikinis.

"Hush, don't speak a word."

One of the sisters came behind Tiffany and opened the old cuffs, and the blonde model rubbed her wrists in relief.

"Who are you?"

"Captives, like you. Now come on."

All three crept out and snaked along the encampment until they saw the clearing.

"Run!"

They all legged it, leaving footprints in the sand as they hurried as fast as they were able from the slave traders' camp. They passed lots of palm trees and did not stop for what seemed like miles and miles to Tiffany, who was seemingly oblivious to the fact that she was still in the buff.

"Almost there."

One of the twins took hold of the exhausted Tiffany by the hand as they left the beach and stopped at a secluded and abandoned beach house. Inside, there was a small wicker cot, and Tiffany, completely drained of energy, gladly collapsed on it and flaked out.

x

By the time she awoke, the sun was up and the air was filled with the ceaseless drone of bird calls, and the constant pounding of the surf on the beach. She could make out laughter and horseplay. Tiffany got up and padded over to the open window and saw the twins frolicking in the sea. Waves of clear water splashed the nude young women as they grabbed each other's tits and ass.

"Golly!"

Both women were stunning in their natural beauty, and Tiffany was quite moved. They now left the water and waded ashore, their superb bodies silhouetted by the sunlight. The water dripped from their tanned frames, and they walked back to the hut hand in hand. Tiffany thought the sight of the droplets on their breasts and erect nipples to be incredibly erotic. Even their pubes appeared moist and sensuous, with little droplets forming in the black hair.

"Wow! Very Ursula Andress."

It was hard to believe the horror of her abduction had occurred just a few miles away. The beach ran for a few hundred feet, and no one could be seen in either direction. A very sorry-looking Land Rover was parked just off to the side. Tiffany turned to the door, suddenly acutely aware that she too was in the buff. The women giggled as they entered.

One faced Tiffany with a perfect posture and straight back. Her sublime backbone led to her shapely ass, which curved outward. A warm breeze wafted in and with it the salty sea air as her twin sister stood side on, her long hair slick down her back. She was utterly beautiful, tall, and slender with fine boobs with small, hard tips. Both women showed no shyness as Tiffany gazed at their well-maintained strips of pubic hair between their upper thighs.

"Hi! How are you? I'm Mary Collinson, and this is my sister Madeleine. You'll be safe now."

"Tiffany Jones from England, pleased to meet you. Won't Mister Big be out looking for us?"

"Don't you worry, honey? We contacted the CIA, and they should be along in the next couple of hours."

"Are you spies?"

Mary laughed.

"Kind of. We're Playboy Playmates. You may know us. The first twin sister, Playmates. Anyway, to cut a long story short, we went undercover with the Agency to break up the slave traders. Hugh was the one who set the ball rolling."

"Those bastards have had it coming a long while."

Tiffany felt all the previous day's emotions come out, and she burst into tears.

"That's right, sweetie. Let it all out."

Madeleine put her arm around Tiffany's shoulder and kissed her lightly on the forehead. Mary joined them on the other side of Tiffany and stroked her long fair hair.

"You're so lucky, Tiffany. Those men were brutes. You can't beat a woman's touch. Right, sis?"

"Gosh!"

Tiffany blushed as four hands ran over her pale skin, and she closed her eyes to enjoy her sister's gentle caresses. One shiver down her spine, and Tiffany felt her flesh rise in goosebumps despite the hot temperature. Mary concentrated on her pert breasts and made teasing circles around each nipple in turn. The blonde babe let out a soft moan as her nipples were taken between hard teeth and lightly bitten. As Tiffany went backward on the bed, the sisters went with her, their fingers joining together to close in on her pussy mound.

"Crikey!"

Tiffany inhaled deeply, and her tits rose and fell, and her pussy began to juice up from the divine attention.

"But, you're sisters!"

"Twin sisters. And we do everything together." Mary looked at Madeleine and winked.

"Everything."

"Oh!"

Mary kissed Tiffany, whose mouth parted to accept the searching tongue. Then Madeleine took her turn, and her lips met Tiffany's in a deep and lingering smooch. These women were incredibly gifted as four hands, two pairs of lips, and two tongues teased and nibbled Tiffany down below. Her sensitive inner thighs, just about an inch from her hot sex, were licked, nudged, and Tiffany bucked her hips up off the bed.

"Good heavens!"

Madeleine had shifted lower and was now busy with each of Tiffany's feet. The brunette massaged them with delicate fingers while she sucked on each big toe in turn. As she devoured the foot digit her hands caressed Tiffany's supple calves, and the result was a tingling pussy that cried out for attention.

"Please."

Mary obliged with a sweep of her tongue between Tiffany's open thighs. She went up in a smooth lick up and down the slightly parted slit from anus to clit. And when Mary paused now and again against the hard button, she hummed with pursed lips, and Tiffany arched up in euphoric bliss.

"Ohhh, yessss!"

With rapid flicks, Tiffany felt her clit stimulated beyond her wildest dreams. Side to side and then up and across and back down to her slit. Heaven! Her mouth hung open as she made an odd gurgling sound at the back of her throat.

"Too good!"

Madeleine joined her twin sister to carry out a double whammy and plunged her pointed tongue in and out of Tiffany's very wet hole. The twins knew that the writhing blonde was on the edge of a blessed climax and doubled their efforts. Audible squishing noises emanated from the blonde's delicious quim, and Tiffany's entire nether region was awash with spit, and two pairs of vibrating lips on her pussy proved too great to bear. Tiffany's quim erupted in a flood of her love juices, and both brunettes had glazed faces to show for it.

"Our turn, I think."

As Tiffany recovered her composure, she looked on amazed as both twins went into a 69 position beside her. Mary was on top and lined up her muff for her sister to lick. Madeleine dipped her tongue up and into Mary's soaking quim and rubbed her cute nose into her flesh. Mary did the same and began to lick her sister. The beach house became filled with the sound of lewd sucking and slurping, and each sister seemed to compete with one another as to who could moan the loudest. Tiffany was enthralled by the woman rocking this way and that and gasped as the pair of lovers both came together.

"Well, I never!"

"Come on, Tiffany, don't be shy, darling."

The twins parted and both lay to the left on the straw that covered the floor. As they formed a daisy chain, all three giggled together. Madeleine took her sister's breath away as she dipped in between her legs and made delicate kisses along her smooth inner thighs.

"Nice."

Loud moans and whimpering came from all three babes as Mary planted her tongue on Tiffany's wet snatch and began to lick her out. Tiffany joined lustfully and completed the erotic circle and feasted on Madeleine's hot box. Mary started to lick Tiffany in a series of slow swipes that took her tongue from clit to sphincter. This in turn spurred the curious blonde to eat out Madeleine's tight asshole in earnest. Tiffany sighed as Mary buried her face in her pussy, grinding her mouth against the sopping quim. The leggy blonde stunner made an all-out assault on Madeleine's ass with her pointed tongue, and the brunette hissed in delight as she came hard.

"Yessss!"

Mary's eyes rolled into the back of her head as she bucked up into Madeleine's face until she too came. Never before had Tiffany Jones felt such unbridled and wild passion as the sensation of being in the daisy chain got her off with violent convulsions. No sooner had they all climaxed than the sound of loud male voices could be heard close by.

"We've been tracked down! We gotta scram! Here, throw this on."

Mary tossed Tiff a white, gauzy peasant blouse to cover her modesty. The blonde pulled it over her head to discover the hem was about one inch decent. They filed out to see if Madeleine had gotten the vehicle started. Tiffany got in the back seat and saw an angry-looking mob storming along the beach.

"It's Mister Big and some scary-looking brutes in tow!"

The Land Rover skidded and drove along the rough half-sunken track that ran past the beach line. Although the four-wheeled drive was made to traverse rough terrain, the going was slow. And despite being on foot, the mob was catching up. Tiffany saw the sunlight glint off several bayonets and machetes.

"They're armed to the teeth! Put your foot down."

The incessant chanting grew louder and louder as the men were whipped up in a frenzy.

"Help is coming. Fire the flare gun."

Tiffany rummaged through the clutter in the back seat and found the distress signal flare. She managed to unscrew the top and pull the firing pin. She held it out of the open window, and a red flash shot forty feet into the air. The Land Rover spluttered to a halt on its well-treaded tyres and then made one final lurch as Madeleine re-engaged the clutch. With the chassis likely shot, the three girls were stuck.
Heavy footsteps sounded outside the vehicle, and they all feared the worst. The door was opened, and Ray burst in, backed up by armed men in sunglasses and fatigues.

"Tiff! Tiff! Mister Big and his gang are all in custody. You alright?"

As the twins got up and reported to the CIA agents, Tiffany got out and stood tall with her borrowed blouse hanging ragged on her slender form, exposing a breast here, and a glimpse of muff there.

"Never better, Ray, never better."

x

Chapter Three.

New York City.

After looking forward to visiting the fantastic city known as the Big Apple, Tiffany instantly hated New York City. She found it dirty, smoky, and most unfriendly. Enormous concrete and glass high-rise buildings blotted out the sun and brought a chill to the air. The streets were crammed full of yellow cabs, and there was constant noise. The blaring car horns, sirens, subway trains, and loud people gave the bubbly blonde a blinding headache.

Still, duty called once more.

x

"Today's the day, my dear. Are you sure you're ready?"

The blonde fashion model didn't look at her Uncle Arthur as she concentrated on wrapping her lips around her Lyons Maid Mivvi ice cream. They were seated in the departure lounge of Heathrow Airport, as Tiffany awaited her noon Pan Am flight to New York City.

"Are you paying attention?"

The twenty-one-year-old peered over her oversized sunglasses and licked her sticky lips. She thought the besuited middle-aged man with a big nose looked more like a bank manager than a member of Her Majesty's Secret Service.

"Of course, I'm ready, Uncle. Have I let you down before?"

"Well, no. The assignment in the Bahamas was most satisfactory."

"Quite. Have you put us in a decent hotel, by the by?"

At first glance, they seemed an odd couple sitting on a seat in public. But nobody in the bustling Terminal would have suspected that they were involved in undercover espionage. He was dressed in sober brown, and she, in a floor-grazing pair of red striped trousers, a matching double-breasted blazer, and a wide-brim hat.

Although Tiffany was not technically a secret agent, the SIS, however, required young women like her for special operations. And since there were no official agents that fit the bill for this mission, her Uncle had reached out to her yet again.

"Come on, Tiff," said her companion, Ray. "They're boarding."

"Bye, Uncle. I'll bring back a Statue of Liberty model."

x

From a young age, Tiffany had been raised in a world of glamour and posing. The closest she had come to the world of espionage was going to see James Bond films. She had never imagined becoming a spy herself. On the flight, Tiffany pulled a folded piece of paper from her purse. On it was the address of Wilberforce Pettigrew, and a personal message from her Uncle.

"This is a very wealthy and very powerful businessman. Whose greedy paws were in most pies? He graduated with a Master's Degree in Applied Economics at a relatively early age and made a fortune on the Stock Market within six months. He relocated from Ohio to New York City, where he resides now. He was of Russian descent but is third-generation in the US, so any allegiance to the Motherland may have diminished over time. He is single but likes the company of young and attractive females. Which is where you come in.

So remember to wear something titillating to attract attention. The Service has covertly arranged a meeting between you and him in a day. Both you and Ray are pretending to scout locations in the City for a proposed television commercial. But you will only be visiting his apartments. We hope that you will be able to obtain certain information about his future business. We understand that he is almost ready to invest in a potentially dangerous weapon that may threaten the upper echelons of the Western world. Find out what you can and report. PS, stay within the parameters of safety. Try to avoid going above 90th or below 34th. The City is frightfully dangerous these days. Love, Uncle Arthur."

The big airplane taxied to its approach to New York, and Tiffany put her note down and looked out of the round window.

"Ray? What are the echelons?" wondered the dizzy and wide-eyed blonde.

"Isn't that the new group with David Bowie?"

x

From the 39th-floor breakfast room of the New Yorker Hotel, one can see the whole of downtown and clear across the river to Brooklyn. It's a master-of-the-universe view, with the East River glinting in the sun, and the Empire State rising above a jumble of lesser skyscrapers. Clouds and sky and construction cranes were situated amidst the cheap carpet and generic furnishings of the budget motel. Once, the place had been a chosen destination of movie stars, prize fighters, and politicians. Now, in the meltdown of 1970s New York, it was home to a redoubt of budget-conscious tourists, class B office tenants, and college students.

"Blinking flip, Ray! You can't swing a kitten in this room, and the water is a funny colour. PLUS, we have an untold number of additional guests. All with six legs. Eeesh!"

"It's only for three days, pet." Said her optimistic lover, as he used his cigarette lighter to incinerate another cockroach.

Tiffany hopped on one foot to avoid stepping on the skittering bugs.

"The sooner we get this assignment over with, the better."

x

The next day at noon, the couple took a yellow taxi to the sprawling prewar duplex set in a distinguished full-service white-glove cooperative apartment house. Pettigrew's home was just a block off Central Park on the Upper East Side. At about 6,000 square feet, the apartment was huge, with a whopping eight bedrooms and seven full bathrooms. They took the elevator to the tenth-floor flat and were greeted at the door by a young-looking maid.

"Come on in. You're expected."

Throughout, the apartment was spacious, with bright white walls and plenty of light streaming in through large windows. They were led to the living room, which was dolled up with a couple of puffy sofas. The room featured an acrylic Les Prismatiques table and chairs, and adding to the modern ambiance was a striking cantilevered glass staircase to the upper level.

Tiffany was particularly impressed with the wide-plank, rift-cut oak wood floors, custom lighting, and integrated sound system. Like nothing she had back home.

"I'd love to hear Slade on that stereo."

Tiffany had chosen her outfit well. Wearing several of the latest biggest trends, the fashion model wore a crocheted top, fur vest, micro skirt, and over-the-knee vinyl boots. The boots and barely there skirt showed off her long legs, and the doll made the effort to flash her knickers every chance she got. There was no denying that she was a beautiful young woman. And she knew that the old geezer would mentally undress her the minute he set eyes on her. Although when he finally appeared, Tiff was surprised to see not a grey-haired man enter the room, but a rather dishy fellow in his mid-thirties.

"Oh, my!"

Standing at just over six feet tall, the well-groomed chap wore a cotton corduroy suit in an indulgent Hunter Green colour that gave it a rich lustre and depth. Ray made to stand, but the host held up a hand.

"Please, remain seated. I am Mr. Pettigrew. Would you care for refreshment?"

"Do you have Pepsi Cola?"

The man shot Tiffany a withering look and shook his head.

"Forgive me. We're all out. I'm sure that Susan could make you some chocolate milk."

The blonde smiled back. Despite his immense wealth, she was struck by how oddly...normal...he appeared.

"Oh, that's okay. Is there a Mrs. Pettigrew?"

"No. I never found the right woman to settle down with. Of course, I have many girlfriends who are willing to humour me with my...exclusive tastes."

He steepled his fingers and cocked his head, shamelessly ogling Tiffany's long legs encased in her vinyl boots.

"You have a charming accent. London?"

"Yes. So, Mister Pettigrew. Ray and I have been instructed to scout out pre-war properties that we might use as a backdrop for the new Marlboro cigarette commercial. And your home looks ideal for the theme."

"Indeed?"

"Yes. We try to plan our film locations during pre-production, and much like purchasing equipment or hiring a film crew, it's a crucial component of this process. These locations that we choose have the power to make or break a commercial. This is because film locations are just as important as casting or even writing the script. It has the power to deliver an entirely different experience for our audience. Good or bad."

"So, what you're saying is that you devise a well-thought-out plan for finding the best possible locations for your film. If possible, try to investigate the person or persons immediately associated with certain properties. Such as a background. Business, and so forth?"

Ray looked at Tiffany, who looked a bit flummoxed.

"Yes, Sir. These areas are likely to have more legal procedures and precautions for filmmakers, as opposed to regions with less active film history. But we would never dig into your personal affairs."

"Sorry. Could I use your loo?"

"Loo?"

"Little girl's room."

"By all means. Take the stairs and then turn to your left. Just past my study."

As Tiffany excused herself, Ray continued to distract Pettigrew.

"There will be more experienced and professional filmmakers able to help you with the proper steps and legalities of asking for permission, obtaining permits and insurance, paying fees, etc. Marlboro prefers to film on private property rather than renting out public spaces. Logistically, it can also make the filming process much easier and less stressful for our cast and crew."

The inquisitive fashion model saw that the door to the man's study was ajar, and she ventured cautiously inside. Most of the room was taken up by a chair at a bitch desk. This was all too easy, she thought as she approached the desk and lifted the lid to unveil two compartments that were stuffed with diaries, documents, and letters. Turning on a lamp, she read the papers and was a little confused to find the details were in Russian. Picking up a letter, she saw that the postmark was from Moscow. Yet more damning evidence was a sort of blueprint that the bubbly blonde could not make head or tail of. She switched off the reading lamp and made to leave.

"I wondered who might be the first to come sniffing around for information. I did have odds on it being the CIA."

Tiffany jumped as the room became illuminated and the imposing figure of Pettigrew stood with a loaded pistol pointed directly at her midriff! Her sparkling grey eyes flashed at him as she realised he had the drop on her. She could feel his burning gaze on her, and the blood pounded in her ears.

"I must compliment you. You are a very attractive young thing. Quite the figure. I'm not surprised you are a model. As for espionage. I suggest you keep posing for cameras. Marlboro is an American consumer product, yet you and your friend are English. Not very convincing. I deliberately left these titbits in the open to see if you would bite."

The tall, imposing man closed the door behind him and motioned for her to put her hands up.

"Now, if you would be so kind as to join your young friend in the living room, we'll have some fun."

They returned to the other room, and the nervous babe saw that her boyfriend had his hands tied in front of him and was gagged. His eyes were wide with fear as she joined him on the two-seat sofa. As she sat, she threw her left leg up over the other with a seductive motion. Her vinyl boot scraped her other, and her barely there skirt rode up to display ample thigh, which drew a lengthy stare from their host.

"You see, my dear, having wealth is fine, but things can become tedious these days with no thrill or action to be had. The sheer boredom of life itself grates on my nerves. Whereas in Europe, especially in the Soviet Union, things are most exciting and I yearn to be involved."

Tiffany yawned and studied her nails. The man was a total bore, and as transparent as a pane of glass.

"You mean you're a Commie bastard?" said Tiff, who immediately wanted to bite her tongue off as her comment resulted in a clout around the ear.

"The Central Committee has conceived a most brilliant plan to belittle and embarrass the United States in a daring prelude to plans of further disruption and eventual downfall. The British will follow soon after. Together with the greatest and most warped minds in the world, there has been developed a wonder drug. An impotency drug, no less. And as I have certain sympathies with the glorious Party, AND I have an abundance of assets and property, I am the bridge if you will between Continents."

"What? An impotency drug? Are you mad? Do you mean to give our boys limp dicks, and the Russkies just waltz in? You're off your chump. Oooh!"

Another smack across the chops made her yelp.

"There are one or two teething problems," he continued as he took off his jacket and began to unbutton his plaid shirt.

She watched as he began to walk in a slow, clockwise circle around her, sizing her up as if she were a piece of merchandise. He stopped in front of her, paused, and then began a second revolution, anticlockwise this time.

"Given time, these will be solved. The serum has a two-fold effect. As well as the drug rendering all male subjects with erectile dysfunction, an injected female develops an irresistible compulsion to copulate with anyone nearby. The pandemonium caused will be a severe blow to the decadent United States. One that the supreme Communist Party of the Soviet Union will exploit."

Tiffany furrowed her brow. Science had never been remotely her strongest subject in school. Was it possible that every red-blooded woman in the grip of sexual fever would be unable to get laid?

"It is well known that the Capitalist common man is driven by a depraved biological impulse to fornicate and degrade the lesser sex. Historically, he has been dominant in this role and as such, offers an Achilles' Heel which shall be ruthlessly exploited. American males are, on the whole, less intelligent than Russians. He will be reduced to a quivering mess, totally helpless to be stimulated by the female form. And as a result, he will be enslaved."

Tiffany watched in silence as he undid his belt and unbuttoned the fly of his trousers.

"Isn't there a chance of allergic reactions from some?"

Pettigrew scoffed and jerked his dick.

"What does it matter if a few Americans tragically die in the process? The infection will sweep across the United States, corrupting the corrupted of American society. Fortunately, another serum reverses the effect on the male in the blink of an eye. As in the hypo I have here." He waved it in the air as proof. "So the lucky ones, such as myself, will have the cream of the crop of the country's finest women. In truth, I admit to being a colossal pervert. My money buys me all the pussy I can eat and more besides. I must have slept with a thousand women, of all colours, and all Nationalities. And, I fancy a bit of English ass might be available before the day is out."

At that, Pettigrew dropped his trousers and underpants and spread his hands. Tiff squirmed on the sofa as her eyes focused on his erect cock. A rather handsome specimen of virility if ever she saw one.

"I find you most intriguing, Miss Jones."

"And a little bit sexy?"

She mocked as she pointed to his boner.

"Indeed, indeed. I wish to show you how the serum might work. Give you an impression of what may be to come."

With his gun still trained on her, he held up a syringe containing a yellowish liquid and moved closer to the anxious model.

"At this juncture, I have to say that I'm a bit squeamish with needles. Look, we don't need any serum. I'm more than up for a little hug and squeeze."

The prosperous American, now stark bollock naked, paused and furrowed his brow. Tiffany stood up and stretched out her arms. Her only thought right now was to strip off all of her clothes. It seemed that only sexual intercourse could afford any remedy.

"Oh my, WHAT a cock you have, Mister Pettigrew, Yummy!"

Working with the speed of a stripper, the blonde babe wriggled and wormed her way out of the confines of the top. As she strutted in her thigh-high boots as her mini skirt fell at her ankles. She cheekily turned her back and teased both men by slowly tugging her undies down her willowy legs. She faced them again, and the red-blooded men gawked at her plump pussy that nestled luxuriously between her alluring pale thighs. The wispy fluff of fair pubes just at the top of her vulva betrayed her imposed arousal with a hint of moisture turning the golden hair slightly darker. Her hips swayed from side to side as she strutted for them, her hands gliding down her sides as her bottom jutted back. She snapped her head back and then forward so that her wavy hair flew about.

"Wanna piece of me, Mister Pettigrew? I know you want me." She wiggled her hips to and fro in a salacious humping as the American injected Ray, who was stripped of his jeans. "Okay, Mister Pettigrew. Sit down there and let me suck that big thing of yours."

He grinned and sat next to the gagged and tied Ray and held up his solid erection for the pair of them to behold.

"Great idea, blondie, let your sorry excuse of a lover watch a real man get it on."

Tiffany knelt on the carpet between his outstretched legs and took hold of his big dick. He grinned from ear to ear as Ray looked on miserably. Pettigrew closed his eyes as his bloated helmet was then smothered by her hot mouth. She twisted and hopped on her knees and pressed her thighs against her throbbing muff, as her mouth worked on his throbbing cock. The more she sucked on his hot length, the more she became consumed by unadulterated lust. Moving up, she straddled his leg with her aching loins and shunted on his thigh as her mouth sucked him in further.

"Look at this, boy. She's humping my leg!"

Ray cut a pathetic figure as he watched. Oblivious to his discomfort, his girl undulated on the sturdy leg of their host with her hungry cunt. She swallowed his entire six inches with a huge gulp of air as Pettigrew flung his head back in bliss. Her cute nose was tickled by his pubes as she deep-throated him, and it was a toss-up as to who drooled more, her mouth or her pussy.

"Best blow job I ever had."

The cute model sucked the rock hard cock with quick fire bobs of her head that let her luxurious fair locks fall across his belly. The more she filled her mouth with his knob, the more she wanted him in her twat. Her tightly sealed lips formed a seal around his glans, and then she exhaled, and he popped out with saliva bubbles on his bell end. Spit dripped down the underside of his shaft in a slow ride down to his balls.

"Eat my pussy, big boy!" she demanded with pleading grey eyes and a sticky chin.

They switched places, and Tiffany took his seat. Now, he went on bended knee and his beaming face came to within an inch of her gleaming slit. He grinned as she widened her legs and dug her boots into the carpet.

"I changed my mind, fuck me! Ram it in me all the way, I must have cock!"

Tiffany's enforced ardour raged in her loins as she bucked up from the seat.

"Patience, my dear. Patience."

He tweaked open her outer folds with his fingers and breathed out hot air on her hole. She stiffened and her mouth formed an O as she felt a series of lustful tremors throughout her body. He traced out lines along her inner thighs as her cunt leaked fluids profusely. Then his tongue darted out and made a broad swipe from her anus to her hard clit, coating her quivering slit with a film of saliva.

"Heavens!" she cried as she experienced a mini orgasm.

She arched her lower body as she welcomed the tingling that made her stomach do flip-flops. Her fingers ran through his thick head of hair as he started to lick her drooling cunt with a steady series of exaggerated licks up and down, then from side to side. As he made progress into her pink inner folds, the point of his tongue tickled her hard nub, which set her off into a gibbering mess.

"I need a cock, I need a cock!"

The rasp of his tongue on her sensitive skin made her giddy, and her wide hips ground into the seat, leaving a smear of her love juices. His nose became wedged in her downy pubic hair as his jaw flexed hard and fast.

"Super!" she cried and grunted when he inserted two probing fingers into her honeypot.

Her boots drummed into the carpet as her legs trembled and shook. Poor Ray looked on in dismay as the sex crazed minx moaned loudly, her pussy oozing into the face of her tormentor.

"Right! Get on that sofa, you devil!"

Tiffany stood up with her legs astride and put both hands on her hips in a dominant stance. Pettigrew nodded as he leered at the breathtaking image of the stark naked blonde in those thigh-high boots. He let her straddle his seated frame, enjoying her pert buttocks that pressed firmly on his groin as she prepped herself. Her hand went between them as she fished for his boner and moved her red-hot pussy into position. Lost in a hazy rapture, she sank, and his stiff cock brushed past her soft labia as she impaled herself on his whole shaft.

"Now, that's what I'm talking about!"

Without further ado, the fair vixen began to squirm and gyrate on his generous pole and then rode up and down with gasps of pure delight. As she sank on him, so he thrust up, lunging into her welcoming cunt as a torrent of wicked pleasure engulfed the steamy blonde. Her perky tits bounced as she bopped on him with little squeals of ecstasy, loving the feel of being stuffed. Her rapid motions lifted her clear up off his groin before she slammed back down again with loud slaps of flesh on flesh.

"It's so big! I love it! I need your cock soooo bad!"

His hands took hold of her slim waist as he steered her energetic strokes on his pulsating prick. And the more they fucked, the more Tiffany lusted for his dick. She whimpered as she looked down upon the body of the sweating, virile man beneath her as his great cock tore up inside her tight quim.

"Bastard! Oh, fudge! Give it to me hard!"

Her smooth ass cheeks were lifted and separated as he paused with half of his log inserted in her pussy, teasing and enticing her further. He took her left tit and smothered it with his open mouth and slobbered on the soft flesh. She shrieked when he flipped her so that she was now on the sofa, face down and ass up.

"This is how you want me, you beast? How do you like English girls? Like a dog?"

"Yes, got a problem with that?"

Tiffany hissed, knowing that her answer would be affirmative. Her overriding thought was only for him to ram his stiff cock back in her sodden pussy. He sidled up behind her slight frame and rested his long member in the crevice of her nether cheeks and proceeded to kiss the back of her neck and ears. He moved along the outside of her splendid thighs before making his way to her dampness.

"Shove it in you monster!"

He smiled and took a good grip on her hips and gave her what she craved. His huge cock eased in until her moist petals were eased open, and her pussy completely sucked his whole length in. She pushed her rump back against his hot groin, urging him to move as she bit her lower lip. He continued to run his hands over her slender body as he made long, deep strokes of his pelvis. They rocked back and forth, and his own need for release drove him in harder and harder, faster and faster, making her tits jiggle with each thrust.

"That was what I asked for, now was that difficult?"

He answered by gripping her hips and burying himself inside her to the hilt. His groin slapped her bum as he rocked back and forth, and Tiffany groaned in bliss. As they fucked within twelve inches from her boyfriend, Ray, Tiffany winked at him and secretly pulled out a mini self-defence folding knife from her fair hair and slipped it into his hand. As he used it to cut his wrist bonds, Pettigrew stopped in mid-stroke and screwed his eyes up. Gaining some of his strength back, Ray leaped up and pushed the wealthy American off balance, and he fell back and moaned pathetically. Ray grinned and looked at the well fucked blonde, and his dick rose to attention.

"Tiff! I've never felt so hard in all my life! I'm so horny!"

"Then give it to me, lover!"

She moved horizontally on the sofa as her rampant lover loomed over her desirable body. He pulled her supple pins up and on his broad shoulders. His knob twitched and throbbed so badly he thought it might very well explode! With her wet and gaping muff offered up, he drove his cock up into her, and the pair of them moaned accordingly.

"Please, my love, do it hard."

With her boots in the air, his rigid cock sank into her juicy pussy, and her nails dug into his back. Overwhelmed by the moment, Ray hammered the writhing babe with unrelenting force. She bucked up and met his inward thrusts with equal enthusiasm as they rocked back and forth along the creaking sofa.

"Yes, yes, yes!"

Tiffany held him in her arms tightly as his slamming cock refused to quit.

"I'm close, babes, real close," he muttered as his balls crammed up in her ass crack.

The mouth of the blonde gaped open as his cock swelled and then gushed inside her aching cunt. As he spewed his hot stuff into her with a seemingly never-ending river of cum, her hope of an orgasm with her beau was yet again dashed. His gooey froth spilled from her overfilled hole and down the damp crevice of her gorgeous bum. The pair collapsed in the afterglow, and their heated bodies ran with well-earned sweat.

"Ray! You silly sausage! You never waited for me to cum!"

Meanwhile, Pettigrew groped on the carpet for his discarded gun in an attempt to turn the situation around to his favour again. Ray made a fist and moved with haste, and connected squarely with his nose, which spurted blood and blinded him momentarily. Tiff stood up with cum dribbling from her sex and fluffed her strawberry blonde hair, and looked down on the blubbing American.

"What now?"

"I have the number for the British Consulate General here in New York. He'll sort this mess out and get on to Uncle Arthur. Then we can get going." Tiffany perceived the beaten Pettigrew sitting naked on the floor and shook her head. "Bloody Yanks! All mouth and no trousers!"

END