Agent Vixen Collection

by Jay Aury

  She looked up shakily. “F-forgive you?”

  “Yes,” Raphael sighed. “For you shall ache for this old Bull’s cock from now on. Every boy you take after this shall remind you of how this man has filled you. Yes,” he sighed dramatically, pressing a hand to his hairy chest. “Forgive me, for you shall never be truly satisfied as you were this night, until you can taste me again.

  “But it is not too late,” Raphael said, his hands running down her flanks, rough, leathery palms gripping her rump. Squeezing her flushed ass. “Become mine, my fairest jewel. Swear to be my wife, and I shall spare you the torture of being denied my cock. Be mine, and I shall satisfy you every night.”

  Audra laughed breathlessly, lacing her hands around Raphael’s thick neck. “Oh Raphael, you are good. But I think I will suffer without the veil for now.”

  “Ah,” Raphael sighed. “You poor soul. Very well, my desert rose. I shall let you depart.”

  “To the Market?” she said.

  “Yes, yes,” the somnolent Arab said, settling in his seat, idly stroking her still tender frame. “I shall bring you to the Market, my nymph. Tonight. As things are, I have some stock to sell, and was considering attending most eagerly.”

  “Tonight,” Audra agreed.

  “But we must be cleaned first, my dear. Tempting as it is to bring you among others with your loins stained with my seed, I think you might object.”

  Audra giggled, drunk with pleasure, sliding off his chest and between his parted thighs. “True,” she said, taking his shaft in her hands and running her tongue up it. “But we can resolve at least part of that.”

  Raphael’s laughter resounded above the slurping of her tongue as she eagerly cleaned his thick cock.

  Smuggler’s Trade

  The small docks projected from a lonely village lying abreast of the Nile. At low ebb, the river glistened in the evening light, the dark bulk of the ship bobbing at rest. The guards aboard watched the strobing headlights move down the street, gliding among quiet homes as blocky as tombstones. The car glided to a halt at the end of the dock and a man exited. He was dressed in a trim suit. The style was a few years gone, but he wore it well. He had the look of the nouveaux rich. A little fat. A little stupid. His tinted sunglasses hid his eyes, and his pale skin seemed to shine in the low lamps.

  He made his way to the boat, grinning amiably. “Gentlemen,” he said with a slight French accent. “Is the lovely lady in?”

  The two hefted their weapons and scowled. “And who are you?”

  “A man on business my friends. A man on business. Hoping to speak with the Devi.”

  One of the guards pointed his gun at him. “No one. Without appointment.”

  “But I surely have one…”

  “Not that I know. Get lost.”

  The man backed away warily, holding up his hands. The guards scowled at him until he got in the car and drove away, vanishing among the warehouses.

  “Who was that?” another guard said from the deck.

  “Some idiot.”

  The man on the deck scoffed and resumed his patrol. Making his way about the edge, he glanced into the waters, then slipped into a waiting doorway. His steps reverberated on the deck as he made his way deeper into the ship. He glanced about the cabins carefully, peeking inside one.

  The lights went off.

  A hand grabbed him, slammed his face into the metal wall with a bang. He gasped, arm twisted behind his back. The muzzle of a pistol was jammed into his chin.

  “Who are you?”

  “Oh,” the man gasped, his voice abruptly changed. “Hello Devi.”

  “Alistair?”

  Alistair grinned, then his head was banged again against the wall again. “Idiot!” the Devi barked. “I should shoot you here.”

  “Sorry. I was… in a bit of a hurry,” he said, head ringing like a bell.

  The woman behind him scoffed. But the pistol was removed and the hold on his arm released. Alistair turned, rubbing his aching shoulder as the light flicked back on.

  The Devi was a slim woman. Lithe like a gymnast and wearing trim fatigues, cut with a vengeance to bare her trim stomach and long legs. She had fierce eyes and a scar running down her cheek. Her hair was a dark tumble falling around her shoulders, and her high, firm breasts were prominently displayed by her short cut clothes.

  “Suppose you may as well come in,” she said, waving him on.

  Alistair followed, rubbing his throbbing head. She led him into her cabin. A plain room with a modest bunk and desk littered with papers and an old computer.

  The Devi, Alistair thought as he closed the door. Of Indian descent, though of lower caste. He knew more than most of her background. How during the split of Pakistan she had been a part of that long march. How one night she and others have been seized by slavers. It was a terrible truth of the combat riddled period, but they had underestimated the fierce young woman. No sooner had she gained a knife then she taught her captors the errors of their way. Her reward was their ship and what remained of their goods, but she had done too much to return to the life of a village girl. With the blood of its former owners still on her hands, she took the ship she became a smuggler and a mercenary. A combination of fierce cunning, reckless courage and shrewd business sense had gained her power and fortune.

  Such was the woman who slumped into the bunk, crossing her legs and leaning against the bulkhead. She looked at Alistair as if from a long way off with her strange, almost silver eyes. “Well, what a surprise. I didn’t expect to see you again. Especially after what you did in Sarajevo.”

  “To be fair,” Alistair said, “you tipped off those mercenaries. And, I might add, you made off with the gold.”

  She smiled. Fierce, cunning, and utterly unrepentant. She eased back, cat-like, growing playful with her prey. “True. But they paid me double. Take off that stupid disguise. I want to see you.”

  Alistair shrugged, wiping away the ochre makeup. He un-slumped his shoulders and shifted opening the front of his uniform. With the modest changes, he was transformed into the man who had, merely the other day, been a waiter in a Parisian bakery.

  Her eyes took him in. Something flickered deep in those pools. “There it is,” she said in approval. “You know I hate those things.”

  “I didn’t want to compromise you,” he said.

  “Is that right?” she said. She straightened a little. “Did you feel the same way when you gave me that knife in the hold of those slaver’s boat?”

  “You did well for yourself since then,” he said.

  She laughed, gestured at the cabin. “True. Look at me now! Mistress of my own ships. Smuggler in my own right. Mercenary, criminal, wanted by a dozen governments. Who’d have thought that shaking waif would be here now.”

  “There was always steel in you,” Alistair said sincerely.

  The Devi chuckled, her eyes gleaming, brooding with memories of darker days. She sat up, looking at him intently. “Maybe. But you didn’t come to reminisce on my grim past. What do you want, Alistair.”

  Alistair fished a photo from his pocket and passed it to her. “Look familiar?”

  She inspected it, all business. She shook her head. “Haven’t seen him.”

  “He’ll be at the Market tonight. I need to get in.”

  She glanced at him, a flash of a grin. “Oh? Want to crash a party? There could be trouble with something like that.”

  “You always find a way to profit from it,” he said.

  “True,” she chuckled, flicking the photo back to him. “So you want in. I suppose you figured out the where. But something like that is far from free.”

  “The gold you grabbed from me isn’t enough?”

  “Mine, fair and square.”

  “Hardly fair,” Alistair grumbled.

  “Maybe…” She looked at him, inspected him. “Who are you right now, Alistair?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Are you the CSIS agent? The spy? The merchant? The lab
ourer?”

  Alistair watched her. Saw her hand wander along the buttons of her fatigues. “Well, that depends,” he said, rising, approaching her. “Who do you want me to be?”

  The Devi grinned, but there was something longing in her smile as she leaned back. She lifted her leg, foot against his chest, holding him at a distance. “I think… I want the man.”

  Alistair took her foot, unlacing the boot and easing it off. “I think I can do that,” he said, thumbs digging into her arch.

  The Devi settled against the wall of the bulkhead, watching with smoldering eyes as Alistair unbuckled her belt and slid her pants off, baring her long legs and the sharp V of her panties. He stroked her tan flesh, fingers confirming the taut muscle of her calves, touch sending a shiver of desire up her body. “Alistair,” she murmured. “Do you know how hard it is to find a man to share my bed?”

  “You?” he said, crawling onto the bunk, easing her back, undoing the buttons of her jacket. “I would think any man would love to do it.”

  She laughed, her breasts shaking as he pulled aside her jacket, baring her black bra over her modest breasts. “Oh, they would like to. But they aren’t worth it. They all have blood on their hands.”

  “Mine are hardly clean,” he said, popping open her bra, freeing her breasts, dark nipples hardened with desire.

  Her arms laced around his head. She pulled him nearer. “Not the same filth,” she murmured, her lips an inch from his. He caught something in her eyes. Something beneath the sultry Devi. She smelled of sweat and leather. Mingling together with her own scent, making something so distinctly hers. But he knew what she meant. He gathered her in his arms, and his lips met hers.

  She kissed him, soft. Welcoming. Her mouth parted, breath hot as his tongue played with hers. She moaned as his fingers glided down her side and to her panties, stroking the hot groove just beneath. She broke the kiss, gasping, her eyes dark with lust. “No fair,” she laughed. “I’m supposed to take the lead.”

  “Do you want to?” Alistair said, running his thumb along her trembling pussy.

  She moaned, arching beneath him. “Mmm. Maybe… this once… I’ll let you.”

  “Let me show you my appreciation,” Alistair said, sliding down her, pulling down her panties as he did.

  “What are you, oh!” she gasped as his lips met her folds. “Mmmm… Oh Alistair. Keep that up and I might just… ah… forgive you.”

  Alistair chuckled, his tongue sliding up her, tasting her hot gash. He plunged his tongue inside her. She gasped, bucking. Her hands fisted his hair, her hips snapped up, pushing his face deep into her hot groove.

  “Mmmmn! Yes! Deeper Alistair. Oh, men are always so… ah… reluctant to go down there.”

  “Then they’re poor men,” Alistair said, breath hot across her mound.

  She laughed breathlessly, pulling his face back down onto her gash. He held her hips, lashing her dewy cunt with his tongue. She moaned, rocking against him. He felt her near her limit. With a strangled cry she bucked, yanked him hard against her, and came, soaking his face with her eager juices.

  As her orgasm wound down, she released his head. Alistair pulled back, gasping. “My,” he said. “You did need this.”

  She grabbed the front of his shirt and yanked him close. “Shut up and fuck me,” she growled.

  “Well, if you insist,” he said, freeing his cock.

  She arched as he pushed inside of her tight depths. Moaning, laughing with breathless desire, she pulled him near, kissing him hungrily, uncaring of her juices dampening his face. He responded eagerly, pushing his cock inside of her, thrusting into her clutching depths.

  “Ah,” she gasped. “That’s it… mmm… just like that. So eager, Alistair.”

  “You’re one to talk,” he gasped, hips driving him into her, her own rising to meet his thrusts.

  “With you, yes,” she sighed, kissing him again, nibbling on his lip. “I miss you. You should join me, Alistair. We could do so much together.”

  “Afraid not,” Alistair gasped. “Tempting though it is.”

  “Can’t blame… a girl for trying…”

  “Too… true…”

  She moaned as he sped up. Every thrust into her sent her head spinning with pleasure. Her core ached, her fingers clawing his back with the tension of her approaching orgasm. “Oh… oh G-God!” She cried out, arching beneath him, cumming again. Alistair groaned as her depths tightened like a vise around his cock. He came, seed pulsing into her, his whole body jolting with the ecstasy of it.

  Gasping, he softened. He pulled out of her, moved to pull away, only for her arms to tighten. “Stay,” she murmured, pulling him back down against her, her firm breasts cushioning them. “Stay with me tonight.”

  “The Market…”

  “Will be late, late tonight, Alistair. There’s time.”

  “And you’ll get me in?”

  “I will. But…”

  “Don’t worry,” he said, kissing her neck, rolling to his side and gently palming her breasts. “Get me aboard, and I’ll do the rest.”

  “So arrogant,” she chuckled, stroking his chest. “But I suppose I can manage.”

  “Glad to hear it. I’m on a bit of a deadline you know.”

  “Oh? Who is she?”

  “Who says it’s a she?”

  Her eyes glinted in the dark. “You never could resist a challenge Alistair. And nothing challenges a man like a woman.”

  He quirked his lips. “She’s just some woman recruited by the Director. Nothing to worry about.”

  The Devi hummed, her hands toying with his hair. Then, she snuggled against him, sighing as her eyes slid shut, relaxing in the arms of her lover while the bells of the port rang low over the river.

  Prices Paid

  Audra shifted in her seat beside Raphael. The heavy Arab’s eyes were lidded as if he were asleep, but she could feel his awareness on her. His scent filled the car. That curious, thick medley of his. She was annoyed to find he had spoken the truth. Her cunt did ache a little with the memory of their coupling. And she found herself strangely drawn to the indolent Arab.

  Her choice of attire hadn’t helped matters. A short black dress that hugged her figure, the hem just reaching her knees. Her hair was up in a bun and her makeup done up by some of Raphael’s girls. She’d been surprised that he had such women on call, but then, recalled who she was dealing with.

  “We should go over my cover again,” she said, more out of pique than anything at his seeming somnolent disinterest.

  Raphael stirred, sighing softly. “Ah, my western star. There is nothing to fear. Though true, your radiance blinds men with your beauty, they shall not look too deep. Men who attend these events cannot appreciate true depths of the heavens gifts to them. They would crush a flower rather than breathe its scent. Press it between pages of books as if to deepen the poetry whose words could never describe beauty such as yours. Many men bring women with them. Pretty things like china dolls. There to stand on their arms, no more than jewelry of flesh to be admired.”

  “Oh?” Audra said, amused despite herself. “And am I not?”

  Raphael looked at her, and she felt her heart quicken at the lazy desire stirring in his dark eyes. “You? Ah, my dear. You are a jewel indeed. But they are mere stones to set in a ring. You are a treasure worthy of a queen’s crown.”

  She gasped as he lazily touched her breast, gently squeezing her sensitive mound. “R-Raphael, we’ll be arriving soon. This isn’t…”

  “Ah my desert rose,” the old Arab sighed, leaning over her, gently massaging her tender breasts. Rolling the hardened nubs of her nipples in his fingers. “Were you my bride, every day I would show you your value. Every day I would touch you and bring you to such heights of pleasure. This old Bull would never deny you the pleasures of the flesh. He would bring you to the heights of ecstasy every night.”

  Audra squirmed, her body betraying her to the older man’s expert touch. “My…my cover, Raphael…” />
  “Fear not. They will look upon you, my flower, but only see your petals. A high priced courtesan bought by this old man to pleasure him this night. Ah, but they cannot see more than a mere woman Never guess the truth of you. Ah,” he sighed as he stroked her. “I almost pity them. For surely, Allah himself put you upon this world to be admired by men.”

  Her heart beat quickly. Molten lust pooled in her belly. Her annoyance at his disinterest was gone. Now, worry that she might cum before even arriving thrilled her. She gasped, feeling the somnolent Arab’s weight press against her side. His lips touch her neck, nibble at her flesh. “Mnnn! R-Raphael… We have to… have to stop… We’re close…”

  “Ah, my star. Say the word and I shall. But your body says touch me more, and this old man shall listen to it until he is told otherwise, for she makes a compelling argument.”

  She moaned as his lips worked their way up her neck and found her lips. She squirmed against him with helpless desire. Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted the dark bulk of a container ship form against the night sky. Flood lights glowed against its rusty hull, revealing the worn white words Argael Receiving and Materials. “R-Raphael…” she moaned.

  The car eased to a halt among a number of others. Somewhere, she found the strength to push him from her. “Stop,” she gasped, face flushed, lips plumped and reddened with desire. “Stop, Raphael. We’re here.”

  Raphael drew back with a weary sigh, but amusement danced in his eyes as he took in her dishevelled face, her cheeks rouged with lust. “Very well, my sweet. Until next time.”

  His promise made her heart skip a beat as he opened the door and left the car. Audra kicked herself mentally, scowling as she flipped open a small mirror and angrily fixed her hair. His confidence of her eventual submission irked her. But such easy confidence, his way of knowing just how to make her gasp made her burn for him. Yearn for his touch on her sensitive breasts.

  She caught herself staring at the mirror and snapped it shut. She opened the door of the car, smoothing her dress, trying to ignore the hot dampness of her panties. Raphael smiled at her; that flirty, knowing smile, and offered his arm. She flushed a little, taking it, and he guided her towards the waiting gangplank.