Spy Games

by Amanda Clover

  My Boyfriend’s Lesbian Mom

  Part 5: Spy Games

  By Amanda Clover

  @amandasmut

  This book and all its contents are copyright 2018 by Amanda Clover. All rights are reserved and no portions may be reproduced unless for the use of brief quotations for review purposes.

  All characters appearing in this story are over the age of 18. This is a work of parody and any resemblance to real people or situations is coincidental.

  All Tomorrow’s Parties

  The futuristic glow of Beijing at night made me feel like I was living in a neon-drenched dream. The window was down on my side of the limousine and my head was hanging half outside. The warm night air pulled at my loose brown hair each time the limousine rumbled through another intersection. I had expected crowds of people at night, but this part of Beijing seemed partially deserted to foot traffic. Only the cars on the street and the occasional light glowing in a bar or restaurant we passed betrayed any sort of late nightlife.

  “Pull your head in, please,” said Mrs. Temple, leaning back in the seat beside me. “I would not like to see you end up like Isadora Duncan.”

  “One of your friends?” I asked.

  “No.” Mrs. Temple chuckled. “She was a beautiful woman who met with a tragic accident. Something I definitely do not want happening to you. Also, you are messing up your hair.”

  I rolled my eyes, but smiled at her in the same gesture, betraying that I was not really annoyed with her fixation on my appearance. She had chosen a sexy outfit for me to wear down to the stockings and white lingerie. The shimmery silver dress conformed to my toned, youthful body, revealing my long legs and a bra-enhanced hint of my teenage bust.

  I knew I looked hot, particularly standing up in the heels Mrs. Temple had picked out for me, but I also knew she was the star tonight. She wore her blonde hair in bouncy curls and dressed in a sleek dress that seemed to reveal even more of her shapely body. She was clearly proud that she was as fit as me and wanted to show off her muscular legs and flat tummy. She also wasn’t afraid to draw attention to her plump bust, which seemed to burst at the neckline of her dress; her braless mounds and her thick nipples strained at the black material.

  “You look nervous,” said Mrs. Temple. She brushed a lock of my brown hair from my face, curling it behind my ear. Her hand fell to my shoulder and stroked to my long, slender neck. Her green eyes flashed with reflections of the passing streetlights outside the limousine.

  “You’re taking me to meet Valerie Pryce, the richest woman in the world,” I said, leaning into her caresses and draping my body against her arm and shoulder. “That would be intimidating enough. But she’s also your boss.”

  “She’s also my friend,” said Mrs. Temple. She reached around me to gently cup my right breast. She squeezed playfully, plucking at my mound until she could feel my little nipple erect beneath the lace of my bra. Her touch focused on that sensitive bud and I let out a sigh, a mixture of pleasure and easing tension.

  “Alright, but you’ve told me like ten times to be on my best behavior,” I said, stealing a glance at her as she gave my nipple a pinch. “Ah! Not so rough!”

  “Rough?” Mrs. Temple raised an eyebrow. “That’s gentle. If you want to see rough—“

  “Mrs. Temple.” The voice of the limousine driver crackled over the intercom. “We have arrived at your destination.”

  The restaurant was called Noir and the blue-backlit sign was almost impossible to see at the rear of an unlit wooded courtyard. An attendant met us at the gate and walked us through the darkness to the glassed interior of the restaurant. The lighting was so low that I could not make out the faces of the other patrons. We were seated at a small booth that seemed to be built into the roots of a tree that disappeared through the ceiling. It was probably an illusion, but as I sat down, the wood felt real.

  “This is wild,” I said, stroking the wood as Mrs. Temple scooted in close to me.

  “Noir is the most exclusive restaurant in Beijing,” said Mrs. Temple. “The waiting list is three years. Of course, Valerie can get what she wants.”

  “You’re rich too,” I say, thinking about Mrs. Temple’s house and how we flew in first class from California.

  “Not compared to Valerie. She is like another species.”

  “Like an alien?” I suggested.

  “I prefer to think of myself as an angel,” said a deep, but feminine voice.

  Valerie Pryce emerged from the darkness into the small circle of light around our booth. She was far more beautiful than the clips of her I had seen on TV. Her dark hair was pulled back in a complex braid and her face had the high-cheekbones and naturally arched brows of a fashion model bitch. She regarded me over the rims of her glasses, her body almost as full-figured as Mrs. Temple. She appeared to be in her early to mid forties, though it was hard to be sure in the unusual lighting. She was beautiful though and magnetic, with eyes that seemed to possess me just by taking in the sight of me.

  “Valerie!” Mrs. Temple cried out and stood to embrace Valerie.

  “Hello, Charlie,” said Mrs. Temple, using Charlotte Temple’s nickname.

  They kissed, perhaps a bit more intimately than I expected, and Valerie whispered something to Mrs. Temple I could not make out. They both glanced at me and Mrs. Temple said, “She is, isn’t she?”

  “Aren’t you going to introduce everyone?” A beautiful blonde said, emerging from the darkness at Valerie’s side.

  I knew from a few internet searches during the long flight that this was Audrey Pryce. The beautiful and much younger Audrey had left her husband to marry Valerie about two years ago. Though quite lovely in her low-cut dress, Audrey did seem a bit fuller figured than I had expected based on their photos. Her bust in particular seemed larger. Implants?

  “I’m, uh, Emily Vinke,” I said, offering Valerie my hand.

  “The lovely Emily Vinke,” said Valerie. “That’s an unusual last name. Dutch?”

  “My, um, my mother’s grandfather was from Finland,” I said. “My father was half-Spanish though.”

  “Well, it’s a lovely mix,” said Valerie with a wink. “This is Audrey. The love of my life.”

  “Pleased to meet you,” said Audrey, leaning across the table in a way that revealed the hefty weight of her breasts pulling at her dress. She caught me looking, gave me a little smile, but said nothing as we shook hands.

  “How about some wine?” Valerie suggested as we slid back into the booth.

  Valerie and Mrs. Temple sat on opposite ends of the curved booth with Audrey beside me on the inside of them. The booth was small and the seating so intimate that I could smell the sweetness and feel the warmth of Audrey’s body next to mine. There was a faint smell under that, slightly musky, but not actually unpleasant. I wondered if it was arousal, but that seemed crazy. Had they been fooling around on the way over?

  The waitress returned and spoke in a heavy French accent. Valerie ordered wine from the waitress in flawless French. I had never been much of a wine drinker, but it was sweet and delicious and warmed my tummy as I drank.

  “So how is Rebecca?” Mrs. Temple asked, once everyone was enjoying the wine.

  “She is doing great,” said Audrey. “She’s so smart. She can already say about fifty words.”

  “And she’s not even one?”

  “Not even one,” said Valerie. “I think she will be reading by the time we get back.”

  “That would be Shauna’s doing,” said Audrey. “She is a lovely babysitter.”

  “Oh, yes, very lovely,” said Valerie, exchanging a glance and a wink with Audrey. I giggled softly at the exchange, which drew Valerie’s eye.

  “And what do you do, Emily?” Valerie asked. “Are you a college girl?”

&n
bsp; “I’m, um, still in high school,” I said, glancing over at Mrs. Temple with my cheeks reddening.

  “Well, now, aren’t we naughty,” laughed Valerie, giving Mrs. Temple a look of surprise. “I knew you shared my taste for younger women, I just didn’t know you preferred such a fresh vintage.”

  “It’s not like that,” said Mrs. Temple, a hint of defensiveness in her voice. “I wasn’t looking for anything. Emily showed up in my life and I could not stay away from her.”

  She took my hand and squeezed it.

  “I’m eighteen,” I added, which made both Audrey and Valerie laugh.

  “And adorable,” said Audrey. “So what do you want to study in college?”

  “Not sure yet,” I said. “Right now I am focused on getting through the year, but I will probably going to Sandy State.”

  “It’s great,” said Audrey.

  “Are you an athlete?” Valerie asked, sipping her wine and looking at me over the glass.

  “A bit,” I said. “Track mostly. And cheerleading.”

  “Oh, cheerleading! Delightful!” Valerie put her arm around Audrey. “Well, Audrey is a runner. If you have the chance, you two should go for a jog.”

  “I don’t do it nearly as much now that I have these,” said Audrey, reached down to cup and squeeze her breasts. “They really get in the way of… oh, dammit!”

  She looked down at the front of her burgundy dress and I could see a dark spot spreading from her thick nipple.

  “I even put pads in,” she said.

  “Audrey is still breastfeeding,” explained Valerie. “She tends to spring a leak whenever she gets excited.”

  “Oh, they don’t need any excuse at all to leak,” she said. “Touching them was probably enough. I pumped until my nipples hurt before we left the hotel.”

  I felt my cheeks grow hot at the thought of the beautiful blonde with pumps attached to her large breasts. I knew, generally, what breast pumps were and how they worked, but I had never thought about them much. Suddenly imagining Audrey with a machine slurping at her nipples sent a hot thrill of curiosity through my body.

  “I had better go clean up before the food gets here,” said Audrey.

  “Why don’t you go with her,” suggested Valerie, scooting out of the booth to allow us room to leave.

  “I don’t really need help,” chuckled Audrey, “but I’ll take some company.”

  “Um, okay,” I said.

  “We can talk business while they’re gone,” suggested Valerie. “Elizabeth Chen is ripe for recruitment. But it won’t be easy to pry her away from a state-run company.”

  “I’ll get her,” said Mrs. Temple. “It’s what you pay me to do.”

  Audrey took my hand as I stepped out of the booth. I felt self-conscious and tried not to look at her breasts or the dark spots spreading from both her nipples. A waitress saw us standing and approached with a small lantern to lead us to the restroom.

  The restroom at Noir was warmly lit in gold, its honey-colored wood tones providing a great contrast to the darkness of the restaurant. It was much more spacious and elegant than it needed to be, providing a respite from the chic gloom of the dining room. There was no hint of an unpleasant smell. Audrey held my hand as we walked together back to one of the oversized stalls. The wooden door opened, revealing what seemed at first glance to be a tiny bedroom with a toilet in place of a bed.

  “Do you need to go?” Audrey asked.

  “Um, no, I’m good,” I said, smiling nervously. Was she about to pee in front of me? The thought gave me some small twinge of curiosity, but I was nevertheless relieved when she closed the top lid of the toilet and sat atop it.

  “So how long have you been dating Charlie?” She asked as she nonchalantly slid the straps of her dress from her shoulder and revealed the padded cups of her cream-colored bra and the tops of her large breasts.

  “Um, I don’t know if dating is how I would put it,” I said, not sure where to look in the seemingly increasingly warm stall. “We’ve been, you know, um, hanging out.”

  “It’s okay,” said Audrey. “Relax. You can watch. I want you to watch.”

  “Oh,” was all I could think to say.

  I did watch as she reached between the cups of her bra and released the front clasp. She looked down and I stared as she opened her bra, two damp pads dropping out of the cups of her bra. Her breasts were large and faintly veined. Her mounds were luscious and large and bore slight tan lines that barely covered the areolas. Her areolas were reddish and her stiff nipples thick and also red as if raw and sensitive. As I watched, tiny droplets of milk beaded at her nipples and rolled slowly down the lower curves of her breasts.

  “Hand me my purse, please,” she said, gesturing down to my feet. I passed her the purse and she took out a pair of hand pumps with clear plastic bottles attached. “I hate these things, but no way was I bringing the electric pump in my purse.”

  I caught the smell of her milk. It was sweet, faintly earthy, and exciting. There was none of the sourness you might think.

  I watched raptly as Audrey fitted one of the cups over her right nipple and covered the areola. She held it tightly, the rim of the cup pressing into the softness of her breast. She began to squeeze the attached hand pump. I could see her nipple stretching into the stem of the cup. She moaned softly as her milk began to gush. It spurted out with each pump, slowly filling the bottle.

  “The first one is easy,” she said. “Doing them both at once is a bit more of a challenge.”

  She picked up the hand pump and struggled to find suction around her left nipple. I noticed some of the milk dribbling down her breast and dripping onto her dress pooled around her waist.

  “Would you like to help?” She asked, holding up the pump.

  “Um, alright,” I said.

  I crowded closer to her and she leaned her shoulders and breasts forward so they dangled. The milk began to drip steadily from her engorged nipple like a leaky faucet. I took the pump from her and grazed her nipple inadvertently as I pressed the cup to her breast. She sucked in a hot breath, but nodded that it was okay for me to proceed. I surrounded her nipple, pressing the rim of the cup around her areola and the nipple up into the funnel of the cup. The pressure my hand was placing on her areola was enough to cause her milk to spray into the funnel, gathering along the lower rim. I squeezed the pump and watched in fascination as her nipple stretched with the suction and let out her thin milk.

  “Oooooh,” she hissed and knit her brow.

  “Did that hurt?” I asked.

  “No, no,” she said quickly. “Please, keep pumping. It feels… oooohh… it feels nice.”

  There was no question that what I was doing was sexual. I knew and Audrey knew that I knew it. She looked up into my eyes as I worked one pump and she worked the other, slowly suckling her breasts and draining her milk into the small bottles attached to the hand pumps. Each gush of her milk sent a little thrill of excitement through me. I enjoyed have my nipples sucked. I could imagine how nice it might feel to have the relief of lightening the load of milk as well.

  “This is so weird,” I laughed, unable to keep a grin from my face. “And it’s making my hand hurt.”

  “Switch hands,” suggested Audrey. “And, yeah, it’s pretty weird. But you get used to weird when you’re around Valerie.”

  I switched to my left hand, the pace increasing as I worked her nipple with my fresh grip. The flow of milk from her breasts was still strong and the bottles were more than a quarter full.

  “Mmmmmm. So how long have you and Charlie been together?”

  “Not sure I would say we are together,” I admitted. “I mean, I think I would like that, but, well, it’s complicated.”

  “I cuckolded my husband with Valerie and then traveled the world with her getting kidnapped by one of her ex-lovers in the process.” Audrey swept a lock of hair from her face. “So I know all about complicated.”

  “I met her because I was dating her son,” I admi
tted. “I still am.”

  “Wow, okay,” Audrey chuckled. “Yeah, I guess that is complicated.”

  “And her daughter is with us on the trip. And she knows I’m sleeping with Mrs. Temple, but she doesn’t know I’m dating her brother.” I let it all spill out of me. “And she blackmailed me into sex with her. But also, I sort of liked that.”

  “And you’re still in high school,” said Audrey with astonishment.

  “I am missing class for this trip,” I said, switching back to my right hand as I continued pumping past the halfway mark on the bottle.

  “Oooh, not so rough, they’re getting really tender,” gasped Audrey, slowing my hand. “There, that’s better. Well, I don’t know if you are interested in a serious relationship with Charlie or not, but if you are, go for it. Go for it and don’t let go. I had to fight for my love with Valerie and it was all worth it. Even this part.”

  She looked down at her swollen red nipples being drawn into the cups with each pump of suction. She stopped working the pump and gently released the cup. There was a well-defined red line around her areola and her nipple looked huge and so red I could only imagine how much it hurt. The tender flesh glistened with the residue of her milk.

  “Oh, that’s better,” she said with a shudder. She took the other pump from me and exposed her nipple. It looked just as raw and wet. She set the cups aside. I could not help but stare at her plump breasts, slightly diminished in size, but capped with those wet red nipples. A drop of milk gathered at the tip of her right nipple. She looked from me to the drop hanging from her red bud. She gathered it gently on her fingertip and held her finger up to me. “Go ahead. You can taste it.”

  “Oh, um, I didn’t, um… I didn’t mean to…”

  “It’s alright,” she chuckled. “It’s just milk. Have a taste.”

  I nodded nervously, lowering my mouth to her finger. I looked into her eyes as I sucked Audrey’s fingertip, running my tongue over the thin, sweet milk. There was not enough to get a really good taste, but it seemed quite pleasant.

  “I get why babies like that,” I said, licking my lips.