I watched the young upstart approaching and sighed in exasperation. Across the spacious living area, our gazes met and the loathing I felt for him was mirrored equally. I didn’t have any rational reason for disliking him so much, but there was something about him that unsettled me… to be more precise, something I didn’t trust.

It wasn’t just his meteoric rise up the agency ladder that twitched my antenna. Although it was unprecedented and widely disliked — mostly by the bruised egos and trampled toes he left in his wake — I’ve always been a believer in talent whatever the age, gender or social standing. Of course, being married to the daughter of his immediate boss, Admiral Chester Davenport, the deputy director intelligence - DDI - for the CIA, hadn’t done any harm to his career prospects. Anyone naïve enough to believe it was pure coincidence was living in cloud cuckoo land.

He sauntered across to join me in the kitchen and his aura of arrogance nearly knocked me off my chair. I took a deep, calming breath. Perhaps my antipathy towards him colored my judgment but I’d learned the hard way to trust my instincts and he was certainly triggering my antenna. I was determined to find out why.

Sighing, I glanced through the French windows at the immaculate gardens. Despite the early hour, the sun was shining fiercely, its rays distorted by thick, heavy glass, designed to keep more than just the bad weather at bay. Unfortunately, the illusion of safety is exactly that — it’s deceptive, and danger can be found in unexpected places.

"Would you like some coffee, Andrea?"

I heard and ignored him. Already irritating me, I knew the polite tone he used was for show. Various security officers and safe house personnel were present and this upstart needed the projection of civility to be accepted at face value by the minions. I knew better and the malicious glint in his eye confirmed my suspicions.

Shaking my head, I watched him fill his personalized cup and cross the kitchen. His curt nod was meant to dismiss the safe house resident but Janice Halsbury, an old girlfriend of mine from the early days, stayed put. She looked at me in silence across the dining room table but our gazes spoke volumes.

Take care, Andrea, this prick is dangerous.

She didn't need to say it and I nodded imperceptibly, thanking her for the support. She’d made an assumption about why I was here, based on scattered rumors and innuendos, thought it was unfair, and suspected who was behind it all. A quick glance at my file in his hand told me enough. Janice left.

Bored by his childish boardroom antics, I switched my attention back to the garden. I'd played this game many times with much bigger fish, and I always came out on top. I knew my strengths and it was simply a question of waiting for the right moment.

He sat and presented another malicious grin. "Lovely morning, isn't it, Andrea?”

Recognizing his tactic, I ignored him, preferring instead to enjoy the early sunshine. Shrugging his shoulders, he nonchalantly raised his cup and took a slug of the rich dark liquid. His demeanor changed dramatically as the coffee, hotter than expected, scalded his throat. Pretending to scratch my nose, I tried not to snigger but it was impossible. He heard and looked daggers in my direction.

“Funny, very fucking funny. Don't you think it's childish to laugh at someone who's just hurt themselves?”

"Depends on who it is. In your case — no, not really." The poison in my voice was obvious.

“Well, enjoy it while you can. He who laughs last and all that," he fumed and blew into his cup.

Recognizing a challenge, I turned towards him and raised my eyebrows.

"Is that a threat, Mister… erm? And should little Miss Riding Hood be scared of the big bad wolf?" Pretending not to remember his name, plus the way I’d pronounced Mister, was my way of showing contempt for him. "Or is Mr. Wolf huffing and puffing for someone other than my benefit."

My tone obviously struck a nerve because the upstart stared hard at me, carefully considering his next words. Eventually, he spoke.

"Very amusing, Miss Detroit. The name's Nielsen… Carl Nielsen, as you well know." His anger grew as he spoke. "In fact, for the record, it's Mr. Nielsen to you, so watch your mouth when talking to a superior. And, as for little Miss Riding Hood, let's not kid ourselves, that ship sailed a long time ago." The thinly veiled insult was accompanied with a tight smile. “But, please, let’s not mistake my good nature for something else, shall we? I'm not known for my humility."

"No, what then?" My snort of derision was deliberate.

Carl stared at me from behind frameless glasses, his unblinking gaze obviously intending to intimidate me. My look was just as flinty and resolved and I wondered if he was surprised by my reaction. We continued to stare at each other. Then he smiled his predatory smile.

"You know, Andrea, I'm looking forward to this. I read your file last night, on the way up here. I’ll be honest, I was impressed. If everything is to be believed, then you'll be a worthy opponent."

"Don't think you're invincible, Carl," I replied coolly, "just because your father-in-law is head of intelligence. That doesn't mean shit to me."

“Yes, it says here, you don't suffer fools gladly." He nodded in salute. "But, I'm no fool, and I don't need the DDI to back me up in this case." He took another sip of his coffee. "But we're getting ahead of ourselves, aren't we, Agent Detroit — or should I call you by your company nickname, ‘The Madam’?"

I looked at him dismissively. "Whatever."

"The Agency recruited you twenty-four years ago, about the time communism officially ended. Tell me, why did you join?"

In a flat, resigned tone, I explained, ”Langley knew that because the communists had failed and the Iron Curtain was falling, it would mean the demise of the Eastern Bloc, and with it the Warsaw pact, but that wouldn’t stop the espionage.”

I paused, still staring into his face. “Charles Robinson was the newly-promoted deputy director of operations and he realized that the need for more agents was just as important as ever. So he went looking. Scouring the country's universities, he found me. I was majoring in political science and foreign languages. I intended to work for State, but after inviting me to dinner, he made me a more attractive offer. So, here I am. It’s all in my file."

Having already said more than I intended, I stopped talking. Carl, looking at the closed file, nodded and casually flicked it open.

"I bet he did."

"Sorry, what did you say?”

“I said ‘I bet he did’ — about the offer.”

“What's that got to do with anything?” I snapped.

"Nothing. I'm just trying to get a better perspective on things." If Carl thought his sardonic expression would unnerve me, he obviously didn’t know me that well. "We all know about Charles Robinson. You weren’t the first... nor the last, I might add, but that’s not important. I'm just trying to ascertain why you came to work here."

"Whether I’ve been intimately involved with Charles Robinson or not, has nothing to do with why I'm here. We both know it, so cut the crap and get on with it." Knowing this was a serious situation, I kept my voice calm. When a field agent is recalled to Washington after being involved in a ‘diplomatic incident,’ then it’s obvious the shit is deep.

"Hmmm. I was wondering if that's when the nickname 'The Madam,' began," Carl said as if reading a clue to a difficult crossword puzzle.

“Why? Do you want a piece?”

For a second his eyes flared angrily; then another emotion flickered across his face. Although he shook his head, the fleeting expression of desire he’d displayed was enough to make me inwardly smile.

“I’ve seen some of your work, Andrea. It disgusts me that this agency supports your methods. It’s a good job the Senate’s Commission for Intelligence doesn’t know. They couldn’t afford the political backlash. Jesus, just thinking about it makes me feel… dirty.” He shuddered, although I couldn’t tell if it was for real or feigned.

He was right, of course. If it ever leaked that the CIA were fronting an escort service in Moscow, then a shit storm of trouble would be just the beginning. Heads would roll and the body count would be high, and not just in Washington. ‘The Madam’ wasn’t my nickname for nothing. My cover was exactly that. I was the ‘owner/operator’ of a very expensive, very exclusive and profitable escort agency. And the profitable gains were not only financial.

There were many rich and powerful men and women in Russia that either wanted or needed my services. It was amazing how many lips could be loosened while enjoying the delights of the flesh. Quite a few found themselves working for the USA after being confronted with compromising photos of their deviant activities. The irony of the whole situation was that the former KGB practically invented the honey trap.

In fact, the infamous security service had a school that trained young, attractive boys and girls in the art of seduction, purely to compromise unwitting foreign diplomats back in the day. Every form of fetish and kinks were studied so that the students of the ‘Sparrow Institute’ were prepared for anything.

Despite the former Soviets having ensnared many western diplomats with their ‘Sparrows,’ they never considered they might be on the other end of the stick. The KGB assumed too many puritanical congressional committees wouldn’t allow it, but I’ve always been taught to learn from the best and, even today, the new SVR is the master class when it comes to compromising politicians and diplomats.

“You don’t approve of such methods?”

Carl shrugged before answering. “What can I say, Andrea? Your approach, although unorthodox, is effective. You’re one of our most productive field agents, but I can’t help feeling the operations side of the house — well, Charles Robinson has become nothing more than a glorified pimp and you being his… I don’t need to say it do I?”

It was my turn to shrug.

“Put a stop to it, if it offends you that much,” I snapped. Then I smiled maliciously. “Oh no, you won’t do that, will you? Because the DDI and, in particular, your father-in-law will lose all the information that I can gather.”

In the silence that followed, without averting his gaze, he sipped his coffee and flipped pages in my file.

“Well, that’s enough of the past,” he said without batting an eyelid. “Now, why don’t you tell me about the Moscow balls up, Andrea.” His condescending tone was irritating.

I shrugged again. “What’s there to tell? The Agency received a request from an agent wanting to come in from the cold. Operations was ordered to prepare an extraction plan and wait for approval.” I paused, needing to select my words carefully.

“Why didn’t we just go ahead and extract?” said Carl, interrupting my train of thought.

“I don’t know. That sort of decision is way above my pay grade. I’m just a G7 and I do as I’m told.”

He made a note on his legal pad.

“It wouldn’t have mattered anyway,” I said. “Apparently, there wasn’t any information for sale. The whole thing was an SVR sting operation. They were trying to blackmail Paul Sumner.”

“How do you know that?”

“The man who conceived the whole operation told me, in confidence… you know, before he kicked the bucket.”

Carl raised his eyebrows while he made another note.

“But you’re here because of…” I nodded. Now he looked confused. “Okay,” he said, a little hesitantly, “we can try to verify that through other sources… if what you’re saying is true — but what I would dearly love to know, is how did an American intelligence officer get herself embroiled in the death of a Russian politician or spymaster, or both?”

I smiled enigmatically. “You really want to know?” He nodded.

“I was in my role as a high-class hooker and fucking his brains out.”

The outrageous statement had the desired effect: Carl had difficulty keeping his temper under control. He was silent for a moment and I like to think he was mentally counting to ten.

“I’m sorry, Andrea, I know you like to shock people, but I’m gonna need something more than ‘I was fucking his brains out’ if you want to preserve your job. Why don’t you start at the beginning?”

~~~~

“Short story… The CIA had been receiving information from what we thought was a low-level employee in their state treasury. The initial contact was a letter addressed to the station chief in Moscow. In that letter, there was a set of demands and how much it was going to cost us. To prove that the offer was genuine, it included some classified information, you know, to show us what we could expect if we accepted the offer.”

“Isn’t that a bit unusual, receiving anonymous offers?” Carl’s inquisitive stare was starting to irritate me. “At the very least, it sounds unorthodox,” he added.

I shook my head. “You’d be surprised how we collect some of our intelligence, Carl. This is probably the rule rather than the exception. It’s impossible to betray someone who’s anonymous. And if we wanted to burn him, or her, where would we point the finger? Anyway, after checking to see if this was a false flag, we agreed to the conditions.”

“How? If this was an anonymous contact, how did we let him know we were interested?”

“If we were interested, we had to reply to an advert in the classified section of Pravda, and wait. The advert would run for two weeks. After that, the offer would be wiped from the table.”

Carl nodded, slowly, and I continued. “After verifying the data, he became known as Agent Midas and all further exchanges were done via dead drops as preconditioned. A lot of the data we acquired wasn’t much different to what was being published in the financial press, but occasionally there were a few golden nuggets.” I looked out at the garden again, trying to gain some inspiration from the perfect flower beds. “Was it worth it? I don’t know. But, because it was information direct from their treasury, you intelligence weenies treated it like gospel.”

I watched Carl bridle at the slight.

“Anyway, the data stream kept coming and then we got a request for a personal meet. Apparently, Midas wanted to come into the light.” Carl was diligently writing everything down. “He said he had some highly classified information and if we wanted it, it was ours.”

“Was it that good?”

I shrugged again. “Firstly, we didn’t receive anything and, secondly, I just collect the stuff. You guys in Intelligence are the ones who evaluate it.” I gave him a bland smile. “The point is, the SVR was fishing and they were using a great big worm as bait, which we swallowed — hook, line, and sinker.”

“What do you mean?”

“With a source this important, you don’t just deploy a junior staffer from the embassy. That would send the wrong message. Sending someone from the top floor lets the agent know we value him. So, Charles ordered Paul to meet him.”

“Paul Sumner, the DDO’s deputy?”

I nodded. “Of course. Charles couldn’t go himself, could he? His absence would be noticed so Paul stepped up to the plate.”

“So, Paul was sent to do what?”

“To comfort and reassure Midas of his importance and to collect the data we’d been promised.”

“Is that normal procedure for something like this?”

I sighed at the question. For someone so high up in the Agency, Carl was asking some stupid questions. “What should we have said, Carl? ‘Sorry Midas, our man is too important to play delivery man, so just send the data through the normal channels’. I don’t think so.” My derision was clear.

“Well, when you put it like that…”

“Very magnanimous of you, Carl,” I said and instantly thought I’d be generous and throw him a bone. “Meanwhile, I’d received orders from Langley to try and seek out who Midas really was. Easier said than done, even with my extensive network. Sure as hell, we found nothing. Nada, a big fat zero.”

Thirsty, I walked to the coffee machine, observing that the security detail had retreated to their command center, as the rule book dictates for a debriefing. In the reflections of the shiny black kitchen surfaces, I saw Carl was looking at me. Despite his earlier comments, there was no denying that he was ogling and I wondered if his wife’s ass looked as good as mine.

“Want some?” I asked suggestively while quickly turning to face him. The abruptness of my actions clearly surprised him. He might be a professional spook but he wouldn’t have lasted five minutes in the field. We knew what he’d been staring at and I’m sure he would have reacted with defensive anger if I hadn’t been brandishing the coffee pot.

“Oh, coffee… yes please.”

I could have asked him what he thought I was offering, but decided to let it go. After refilling our cups, I returned to my seat, positioning it so that I was looking directly at him. I crossed my legs, letting my skirt ride up my thighs before pretending to pick off some lint. I saw him stare at the displayed expanse of my stockinged thighs. He licked his lips and only averted his gaze when I raised my head to look at him. Immediately, he was all business again, going through his notes while I took a sip of the warm brown liquid.

Carl cleared his throat. “So, what happened in Moscow?”

“Well, unknown to Charles, my escort agency had received a request from the SVR asking if I could supply girls at the Hotel Baltschug Kempinski. I said yes and asked if there were any particular demands. All I was told was that the girls might be employed to perform a delicate task for the Rodina. When I notified Langley of this request, Charles immediately realized what was going on. The DDO hasn’t survived in this business for so long by believing in coincidences. He ordered me to cooperate with the Russians. Whatever they were planning, I had to be there to keep an eye on things and, if necessary, help Paul Sumner escape the honey trap.”

“Paul had no idea Charles had ordered you to…” Carl couldn’t find the right words.

“To be the CIA’s insurance policy?”

He smiled. “Exactly, Andrea.” Carl scribbled on his pad. “Go on.”

“On the night of the incident, three of my ladies and myself entered the hotel and were ordered by the SVR to wait for their signal. I’d explained to the man in charge that my girls were escorts, not spies, and their silence couldn’t be guaranteed. But he didn’t care, ‘so long as someone was present when the moment came,’ he pointed out. Having been warned of the Russian’s intentions to blackmail him, Paul entered the lounge alone and looked around the room for his contact. I was a few paces behind him and saw him move towards someone who was signaling him. That’s when I almost gave myself away.”

Carl raised his eyebrows.

“The man waiting for Paul was Dimitri Gurkovsky.”

Carl looked like a child who had just had his toys taken away without reason. “I thought he was a politician, a member of their parliament. Not a treasury man and definitely not an SVR man.”

“That’s what we all thought,” I replied. “But, when you consider that some of the information we’d received was so sensitive, it makes sense. As for being an SVR man… well, stranger things have happened. Whatever the truth, either this was an elaborate deception or our files on Dimitri Gurkovsky are… sorry, were incomplete.”

“But, according to our sources,” Carl began to object, “Dimitri Gurkovsky is a buffoon, a drunk, and a nobody. He might be a politician but he’s not expected to rise to a ministerial position, not even a minor one. How could he be the agent Midas? Jesus, we thought he was on the way out,” he continued a little too vehemently.

I nodded. Some of that information had come from my network.

“What can I say, Carl? The bastards are still the best in the business. Where’s the best place to hide someone you don’t want to be found?” Puzzled eyes stared at me. “In plain sight, with the perfect cover. My God, Mikhail Tonarvorich, the chairman of State security must have laughed his socks off at our gullibility, and not just the West’s. I mean, who would have suspected a bumbling politician, who mixes with all sorts of people and gathers all sorts of intelligence, of being a master spy? If… and it’s a big if, I grant you… if the SVR ever decided to stage a coup, they’ve already got their man in place. The Premier would never know what hit him. It’s like something out of Hollywood, for Christ’s sake.”

I couldn’t help whistling in admiration.

“You mean, we were trying to…” Carl looked shocked. Slowly the implications of what I’d said sank in. “Dimitri Gurkovsky?” His face was ashen and I wondered if he felt all right. I nodded and waited, watching him as he seemingly recovered from his shock.

“Are you trying to tell me Dimitri Gurkovsky is — sorry, was a major player in the SVR and, apparently, he was going to defect?” Carl had lost some of his earlier bluster and I knew he hadn’t been prepared for the revelation.

“Yes, but like I’ve already said, he wasn’t really defecting. It was a sting operation. They were trying to compromise the Agency. Just imagine what sort of damage they could have done if they’d compromised someone in the higher echelons of Operations. Good God, if they’d used another escort agency, they might have succeeded. Because Paul knew their intentions, he wasn’t in danger and, as soon as it was obvious there would be no data exchange or extraction, he got up and left.”

Carl lounged back in his chair and regarded me balefully. “So, what was the point of you staying after everything had gone south? I mean, couldn’t Operations have you seduce Paul as planned and then use him as a double agent?”

The question wasn’t bad but the DDO had already thought of that scenario.

“Oh Carl, you poor little soul. Charles Robinson is not a man to be taken lightly. I’m guessing he didn’t want Paul to be caught in compromising positions, especially with a junior colleague. There’s always gossip at Langley and Charles wasn’t taking a chance that embarrassing photos of Paul and me could be leaked.”

To his credit, Carl nodded. “But how did the DDO know Dimitri Gurkovsky would end up with you?”

“He didn’t. Charles didn’t even know it was Dimitri Gurkovsky who was behind this, but he knew about the honey trap. And what’s good for the goose is also good for the gander, according to the gospel of Charles.” I drained my coffee cup. “I was there anyway, courtesy of our Russian friends, and Charles had ordered me to see what I could do.

I slid my hand up his thigh and squeezed before removing it. Good muscle tone. I stood, stretched, and caught Carl staring at my expanded chest. “Sorry Carl, my back hurts from these chairs. Can we sit on the couch over there?”

He had to agree because I walked away from the dining table. When he finally stood, I patted the seat cushion next to me and treated him to a million dollar smile.

“Come, Carl, let’s put away our hostilities and get through this as amicably as possible. You know… for the good of the Agency.”

Reluctantly, he sat beside me.

“Anyway, Dimitri was quite handsome, at least from a woman’s point of view. In the Moscow cocktail circuit, he had a reputation as a ladies man as well as being amply endowed.” Carl, busy scribbling, stopped and looked at me, obviously shocked at my disclosure. “Of course, I only confirmed that rumor was true in the lift up to his suite.”

I grinned at Carl’s expression. “It’s true,” I said, crossing my legs again. My skirt rose high up my thighs and that didn’t go unnoticed.

“During drinks, we talked. For someone who had just seen a major sting operation go to pot, he was remarkably upbeat. He admitted it was a setback but wasn’t the end of the world. I told him what I’d planned for the American spy and commented lamentably how it would be such a shame to waste so much preparation. He agreed and when I offered him one of my special blue pills, he readily accepted. By the time we’d finished our third round of drinks, he was ready and raring to go. On the way to the elevator, he dismissed his bodyguard. Once he was gone, Dimitri was all over me. At one point, I had his prick out of his trousers and was practically wanking him off, stopping only when the elevator arrived.”

“You were heading to his suite?”

“Carl, my dear boy, the SVR had arranged everything for the sting, including a room filled with cameras and microphones. The DDO is very intelligent, very astute, and extremely cunning, but one thing Ops can’t do is the impossible. And bugging every suite in a hotel in the heart of Moscow certainly falls into the category of impossible. Besides, it would have looked suspicious if I’d tried anything.”

“Even if you were… how did you so eloquently put it, ‘practically wanking him off,’ in front of the elevator.”

“He might have been slightly distracted then but I’m sure he would have noticed if I’d tried taking him to a different room.”

“So, how was Ops going to blackmail Dimitri Gurkovsky, if you were planning to seduce him in the SVR suite?”

“Without giving away secrets,” I said, smiling, “the CIA still has a few tricks up its sleeves and cameras come in all shapes and sizes these days.”.

“Okay. What happened next?” Carl’s voice was not quite so steady as earlier.

“When the lift arrived, I stepped inside and started undoing the buttons of my dress. Dimitri obviously liked what I was doing and, with my breasts exposed, he ordered me to kneel in front of him.”

Carl’s eyebrows rose.

“Duh! Dimitri’s cock was sticking out of his trousers and he wanted me on my knees. Do the math, Carl.”

“You gave him a blowjob in the elevator?” I nodded. “But they’re glass elevators,” Carl exclaimed. “Hotel visitors can see them going up and down.” His disbelief grew when I nodded again.

“I fell to my knees and started crawling towards him, watching how he masturbated. He was in control and couldn’t care less if other hotel guests saw us. As I got close, Dimitri pushed his trousers and boxers down his thighs, exposing his manhood completely and said, ‘Make it good, whore.’ And that’s what I did.”

“He actually called you a whore?”

“I’ve been called worse, Carl,” I replied, uncrossing and recrossing my legs, sending my skirt ever higher. “Aware of what was on the line, I knew I would have to impress him. So, I ran my tongue along the underside of his prick before sucking his balls in my mouth. While I gorged myself on each testicle, I wrapped my hand around his flesh and began wanking him again. By his groans, I knew I was performing up to expectations. At one point, he said the American didn’t know what he was missing and what I was doing was worth betraying his government for.”

Carl stared at me incredulously. “He actually said that?”

I nodded. “And I had hardly started. After making sure his balls were well and truly serviced, I concentrated my efforts on his prick. I began sucking and licking the tip, pulling back his foreskin to expose his helmet. Pre-cum was oozing from his little slit.”

From the corner of my vision, I saw Carl shiver as I related my tale and I couldn’t help giggling. The young man guessed that he was the reason I was laughing. “What’s so funny?”

“You wanted to know what happened in Moscow and when I tell you, it offends you.”

“I didn’t expect you to go into such explicit detail.” Carl displayed a pained expression.

“Your reaction is exactly the same as Dimitri’s when my teeth grazed the rim of his cock,” I said, casually. Carl’s eyes widened and, amazingly, he blushed a little before resuming to write on his pad. Although he was trying to be all cool and objective, I saw a bulge in his lap.

“One thing that surprised me, Carl, was the fact Dimitri didn’t touch me. He kept up a filthy tirade, talking really dirty, especially when I deep throated him, but his hands stayed tightly clutching the safety bars. I realized he was displaying the ultimate form of control.”

My interrogator stopped writing and regarded me quizzically.

“Normally, men grab hold of a woman’s head when they want to face fuck, but Dimitri didn’t. I guess he was so sure of his power, he didn’t need to physically dominate me. He knew the knowledge of who he actually was, would get me to do what he wanted.”

“And what did he want?” The tremor in Carl’s voice was more pronounced.

I decided it was time to make my move.

“He wanted what every man wants, Carl.” I placed a hand on his lap. Sure enough, I felt the hardness he was desperate to hide and I squeezed. “Why don’t I demonstrate what happened in Moscow?” I said huskily, licking my lips. Before he could protest, I unbuckled his belt, pleasantly surprised that he offered no resistance. “It will be easier than telling you, and much more fun for us both, don’t you think?”

Carl said nothing but swallowed while imperceptibly nodding his head. When I hooked my fingers into his waistband, he automatically lifted his hips, allowing me to pull down his trousers and pants. His cock sprung forward to meet me. I leaned and placed my lips on his throbbing tip, noticing a star shaped birthmark on his inner thigh.

“Would Mrs. N mind if she found out I’d let you fuck my face with this lovely big cock of yours?”

“You fucking bitch,” he muttered as I licked his throbbing meat. “I know Carl, that’s my trade.”

I gave him the same treatment as Dimitri had received and, when I swallowed Carl’s cock completely, I felt triumphant as strong hands reached for my hair. Reluctantly, I released the wonderful meat from my mouth and told Carl what Dimitri had demanded and how I was going to let him do the same. With relish, I saw the joy light up his face. Just a little boy.

“Now, stand up Carl and show me what type of man you really are.” Within seconds, his cock disappeared between my lips. Moments later, his fingers were entwined in my hair and his hips moved in time with my head bobbing up and down.

“That’s it, Carl, do to me what Mrs. N, doesn’t let you do,” I panted, momentarily releasing his manhood from my lips. “Fuck my mouth like Dimitri did and then cum all over me. I want to taste your spunk.”

My filthy talk must have pushed the right buttons, igniting some dirty, little fantasy. Without hesitation, Carl grabbed my hair and thrust his loins forcefully toward my expectant mouth. For the next few minutes, the spacious room was filled with the sound of me greedily sucking cock. Loud slurping, mixed with some timely gargling sounds, inflamed Carl’s desires as he did his best to emulate the late Russian spymaster.

To my surprise, the DDI’s son-in-law didn’t disappoint. While images flashed through my mind of Admiral Chester Davenport watching me blow his daughter’s husband, Carl held my head and thrust in earnest. I rested my hands on his firm thighs and waited for his climax. When it approached, Carl grunted he was close and hastily removed his saliva-coated prick from my mouth, allowing me to finish him off as I’d requested. The only difference between what happened in Moscow and Washington was that Carl spurted as soon as I wrapped my hand around his pulsating flesh.

A large wad of spunk landed on my cheek and lips, the thick, creamy fluid warm to the touch. Another load splattered against my jaw before a third salvo gave me a pearl necklace. The power of his eruptions and the amount of semen surprised me. I wondered how long it had been since his last release as, under my vigorous tugging, the final drops oozed from his weeping one eye.

Kneeling in front of him, cum trickling down my face and neck, and congealing in my hair, I kissed the tip of Carl’s cock and sucked up the remaining seed. He convulsed violently when my tongue ran over his sensitive dome, but he remained standing. When I said he’d been much better than Dimitri, the smile on his face grew large. Then, like some cheap porn princess, I used his prick to smear the gooey substance into my skin.

“Dimitri wouldn’t let me do this,” I said breathlessly, smacking my lips together for Carl’s benefit. “When he’d finished, he ordered me to stand and lead the way to the room.”

My interrogator looked at me, disbelief again showing on his face. I nodded. “It’s true, Carl. He said I wasn’t to clean the spunk from my face because he wanted the other hotel guests to see what a whore I was. In fact, when I stood up in front of him, cum dripping everywhere, he ripped open my dress completely, revealing the absence of underwear. Then, satisfied with my appearance, he ordered me to move.”

I was delighted by the look of astonishment on Carl’s face. “And you did?”

I nodded, standing and reaching behind to unzip my skirt. As it slid down my legs, Carl gasped. Apart from stockings and garters, I was naked. “Andrea, you’re not...”

“I know,” I said, watching him stare at my neatly-trimmed bush. I don’t know if he noticed how shiny the tops of my thighs were, but I hadn’t been this turned on since Moscow. “And, to answer your question, yes I did. I grabbed Dimitri’s erection and led him down the corridor to my room,” I said, demonstrating my words by pulling my astonished interrogator to the far end of the couch.

“What happened in the room?”

“I’ll show you,” I said, my voice as sweet as the honey he was about to taste. “Once we were in my suite, I seductively undressed him,” I said, undoing the buttons on my blouse, “before telling him to lie back on the couch. Yes, exactly like you’re doing, Carl. Very good.”

The hunger in Carl’s eyes was exactly what I wanted to see as I stood over him. I glided one hand down my flat stomach while cupping a breast with the other and squeezing. “Dimitri wanted to watch me play with myself before tasting me so I happily obliged, just like I’m doing for you, Carl.”

His gaze avidly followed my fingers as they moved among my sparse pubic hair. “Do like my bush, Carl, or do you prefer a nice smooth pussy?” He blinked and then nodded his head. I saw him swallow hard and that excited me some more.

“Let me show you how wet I am,” I murmured, tracing my fingertips along the length of my slit. Carl watched my pussy lips part, the delicious, pink wetness awaiting my fingers. The deputy DDI moved a hand towards his refreshed, raging erection.

“Go on, Carl, wank that cock for me. Keep it nice and hard until I’m ready for it. Dimitri did and… hmmm, I can’t explain how hot that gets me but you’ll find out.”

He gripped his member and stroked while I watched. Seeing him immersed in the moment was such a turn on; I couldn’t take much more and moved towards him. Through eyes as wide as saucers, he watched me climb atop his prone body. With my feet either side of his broad torso and knees beside his head, he could not only see how badly I wanted him, he could smell it. “Good boy, Carl, now stick your tongue out and make Mama scream.”

To give him credit, Carl, renowned as a stiff neck in Langley, knew how to provide oral. As I lowered my dripping apex toward his face, his tongue snaked forward to meet my twitching lips. When it pressed home, dipping inside me, I moaned loudly. I’m guessing that encouraged him because he really went to town. Like Dimitri a week earlier, he licked, nibbled, kissed and sucked. I trembled violently each time he attacked my clit. Although I’m a professional at this game, the sensations coursing through my body had me emitting primeval sounds.

Both men knew how to pleasure a woman with their mouth, but there was a difference in the way they treated their partners. While I rode the Russian’s face, his hand sought out and then invaded my backdoor, which almost sent me to outer space. I suppose it came down to how confident they were with women. Unfortunately, Carl didn’t show any initiative at all. He relied on me to order him around. If I wanted my ass fingered, I’d have to tell him or do it myself. Not wanting the delicious action between my legs to stop, I decided to use my own fingers. I covered a middle finger with warm saliva and reached behind my back.

The loud moan that escaped my mouth sounded so erotic, I could only speculate if Carl knew what was really happening. Hearing my moans, he intensified his efforts, eliciting more carnal noises from my throat, and I briefly wondered if he realized I’d coerced him into doing exactly what I wanted.

Not knowing how long I had before this had to end, I decided I actually wanted to fuck Carl. “Is your cock still hard?” He nodded while I was still sitting on his face, which provided a novel sensation and was worth repeating. “Do you wanna fuck this CIA whore?” Again he nodded and, after the ripples of pleasure receded, I reluctantly lifted off his face.

His skin was shiny from my juices and his expression was of both disbelief and triumph. He smiled like he was enjoying a private joke, which considering what we were doing, I could understand, even if it was for different reasons.

“Come on, stud,” I said, straddling him. I reached between my thighs and wrapped my hand around his rock hard tool. “I’ve been waiting for this moment for a long time,” I whispered in his ear and placed his engorged helmet against my receptive lips.

“Is this how you fucked Dimitri?” he asked in a strained voice, his hands cupping my buttocks, supporting me while I hovered above him.

I lowered my hips and felt him enter. For a moment, I forgot why I was there and just enjoyed the physical pleasure of a thick dick sliding inside me. I glided down his flesh, holding my breath as his meat stretched my silken tunnel. Biting my lip to stop crying out in ecstasy — truth be told, his cock felt wonderful — I shook my head. My sex settled against Carl’s pelvic bone and I ground into him.

“No, Carl,” I said, finally able to answer him. “Dimitri was a bit of a kinky bastard. Not that I minded,” I admitted, moving my hips and feeling the delicious sensations that lead to a climax. I leaned forward and placed my mouth next to his earlobe. “Dimitri was a bum man, through and through, and that’s how he took me.” I felt Carl’s body tense beneath me. “What’s the matter, Carl? Doesn’t Mrs. N, do anal?”

He stared wide-eyed and I knew I’d hit a nerve. “It’s alright, Carl, I won’t tell. It’ll be our little secret. If you like... I’ll let you…” His eyes opened wider and he shook his head vigorously. “What’s the matter, Carl,” I teased, raising my hips until his fat cock slipped from my pussy. Quickly, I reached behind me and steered his erection between my buttocks. Holding it there, I slowly rocked up and down. “Are you sure, Carl?” I cooed. “I love getting some backdoor action, especially with a big cock like yours.”

Indecision crossed his face. “Don’t worry, young man, I’m sure your heart won’t give out on you, not like poor Dimitri’s did,” I said huskily, slipping his rod against my puckered star.

Something akin to horror crossed his handsome features and I had trouble keeping a straight face while the tip of his cock pressed against my tight hole. Rapidly shaking his head, Carl made it obvious that anal sex wasn’t his thing. Shrugging my shoulders, I placed his engorged manhood between my pussy lips and sank down, the sensation of being truly filled making me forget my duty.

Determined to enjoy the moment, I relaxed and rode him. I closed my eyes and bounced up and down on his wonderful wand. Our excited breathing filled my ears, while his hands roamed my body and he bit my nipples. The sense of time almost eluded me as I sought to coax another load from his balls.

“Come on, Carl, let me feel you unload inside me,” I urged, shifting my hips quicker. “I know you want to.”

Carl grunted and grabbed my waist, his deep pounding matching my lunges. The sound of flesh slapping together, accompanied by erotic grunts, groans, and cries, resounded in the room. Then, with a meaningful thrust, Carl drove his cock deep inside and came explosively. Despite it being his second orgasm in such a short time, hot spunk rapidly filled my dripping cunt.

That was the catalyst that sent me over the edge. Feeling his seed flooding me, allowed me to relax and my own orgasm, which I’d been delaying, racked my body. I pressed my knees against his torso while I shook violently. A long drawn out moan escaped my lips and, eyes closed, my head drooped while I gradually resumed regular breathing.

“Thank you, Carl,” I whispered when my climax finally ebbed into the pool of serenity. “You were marvelous. Such a shame it’s the last time we’ll ever do this.”

~~~~

Carl lay on the couch, his spent manhood resting limply. Having buttoned up my blouse, I reached for my discarded skirt and felt semen dribble down my inner thigh.

“I must admit, Andrea, having seen some of your work, I wasn’t prepared for the real thing. I’ll say this for you, you certainly know how to please a man. Quite a revelation.”

The arrogant air of superiority he’d displayed earlier had returned tenfold. He stood and began pulling up his trousers.

“It’s unfortunate the Agency will have to find another way of gathering information in Moscow, but I’m sure you can see what a liability you are.” I continued zipping up my skirt, not replying. “Even though you’re not officially entitled to it, the Agency will see that your pension is complete as part of your compensation. Have you any idea what you’re going to do?” The triumph and condescension dripped from his ivy league voice.

Before I could answer, a door opened and Charles Robinson and the security detail entered. The look on Carl Nielson’s face was one of superiority until a guard asked him to hold out his hands. His stunned expression was quite comical when the same guard slapped handcuffs around his wrists.

“Well done, Andrea.” Charles Robinson spoke after staring at Carl’s face for at least a minute. His eyes were full of disgust when he finally tore his gaze away from the younger man.

“What’s the meaning of this?” bellowed Carl, anger replacing confusion.

“You’re under arrest for treason, Nielson,” Charles replied stiffly. “We’ve suspected there was a leak on the top floor but couldn’t find who it was. Then last week, when this sting operation fell into our laps, I used it to try and turn the tables.”

“What do you mean?” Carl sounded less sure of himself.

“When Andrea went to bed with Dimitri Gurkovsky, she used all her charms to get him loose-lipped and he told her about a mole he had in the Agency. He never mentioned a name but he gave a clue to his identity. But it wasn’t quite enough for us.”

“Oh, why’s that?” Carl’s voice was significantly subdued.

“It was a birthmark, a star-shaped birthmark, situated in an intimate position. Under normal circumstances it would be impossible to see, so we needed to take a different approach. That’s where Andrea came in. After checking medical dossiers, we narrowed it down to two candidates and I gave Andrea the order to find the traitor, using her…” he paused to smile at me, “her special skills, Thank you, darling, we couldn’t have done it without you.”

I nodded at the compliment. “You’re welcome, Charles.”

“Take him away.” The dismissal was cruel and harsh but then so is treachery.

As Carl was being frogmarched away, his shoulders slumped, Charles called to him again. “Nielson… while I was in the control room, I couldn’t help hearing that you disliked anal sex. Well, at Marion, where you’re heading, you’ll soon get used to it.”