Destination Dark Ops

by Frank Russel

  I'm looking good for a big boy.

  I've still got what it takes.

  'Do you know,' says a stranger.

  I could tell she was Indonesian.

  She might even by Dyak.

  I was in the land of big titted whores after all.

  Here they fucked you then cut your head off and hung on the mantlepiece.

  I'd have to be careful.

  'Don't worry,' said the big titted thing, 'I'm Iban, and if we fancy you, usually we just titty fuck you to death.'

  Pinch me, is this a fucking dream?

  No, I wasn't. She was under my table and was wrapping her huge mammary glands around my throbbing Frank Russel cock.

  I looked around the cafe, then the lady under my table broke up the titty massage with a mouth massage.

  'Another coffee please,' I yelled out to Jenny.

  And here I was, minding my own business, then I just squirted in her mouth and all over her monster tits. Then I asked her if she fancied joining me for a coffee. I was feeling quite alone, since Max, Cindy and Novi had gone on a tour of a real longhouse in the morning.

  Seriously I was in need of some female company.

  'Sure,' she said, saying her name was Matilda.

  It was too cruel to tell her that cum was dripping down her chin.

  'It would be cruel,' said Matilda, who cleaned up the spillage by licking her luscious lips and scooping up the excess with her fingers, that had bright red nail polish with tiny yellow fireworks painted on her nails.

  She was a classy lady, no denying that.

  'She's our older sister,' said Novi and Cindy, who sneaked up on me.

  Well fuck a duck, I know that Max and Jack would want to recruit her.

  'We already have,' said Max who joined me at the table.

  The day was progressing just finely.

  The Long House never disappoints.

  Max got a call from Jack.

  'Fun and games are over, you all get a bonus for your last mission, but we have something going down in Singapore, not a biggy, but a jockey needs some help.'

  Jock was caught rigging a race.

  'You must come in fourth place,' said the Chinese bookie.

  The horse bolted 100 yards before the finish and came in first.

  And now Jocky was waiting for a call from the Triads. He knew what would come next.

  From New Zealand, Jock raced all over Asia. His specialty was pleasing the bookies.

  If a race needed to be rigged, he was the man they came to see.

  But Jock just didn't feel like being dropped out of a helicopter wrapped up in gaff tape, somewhere between Singapore and Batam island.

  He had known Jack and Frank, on an off over the years, and it seemed like the right thing to do to give Jack a call and help him sort this shit out.

  'So that's the low down,' said Max to me and the girls.

  This one is a cinch, said Novi.

  For some reason, her boobs seemed bigger.

  'We'll titty fuck the Triad,' said Cindy.

  Her tits were bigger too. I noticed a wet spot around their white cotton tank tops.

  Their nipples seemed bigger and longer too.

  'We have been taking the pill plus a special herb that triggers the female body to think it's feeding time for our babies.'

  The Triad came up with their best weapon, two go go girls from the wrong side of the tracks.

  Jock was hanging tight.

  We gave him instruction to move rooms and not answer the door.

  And if anyone knocked, hide under his bed.

  Cindy was lactating and squirted some juice my way.

  Novi did the same.

  The Triads were mesmerized by the twins when they invited us to a private nightclub to discuss how we could help Jock.

  I offered to pay double what the bookie lost.

  They were happy with that and before we knew it, we had the Triads on our side.

  The Triads set up Jock up in Hong Kong and Macau,

  See, happy arrangements could be made, even in the cutthroat profession of racing.

  The bookie was taken for a swim in Singapore harbor and told to wire all his savings to the Triad and behave himself.

  It was all civil if you know what I mean.

  Cindy and Novi put on a performance. They out titted to the two go go girls from Thailand.

  By the end of the wrestling match, the stage was full of fresh milk.

  Cindy and Novi invited the Triad up to the stage to lick it up and I'd say that was a rap.

  Missions don't come easier than this one, do they Max?

  Fuck oath, he said.

  I called my conjoined twin Jack up.

  He was living the dream at the village of sweet smelling water.

  I told him we were blessed by Cindy and Novi's holy milk.

  'Sounds like a consecration to me,' he said, before getting back to business.

  'That was just a test run for the main event.'

  I knew what was following that.

  Wan Mohammed was on the loose.

  He had just bombed the shit out of some brothels in Johor Baru and was on the run.

  He was last seen on a speedboat heading south.

  'That's right,' said my brother,' he's probably laying very low in Bintan.'

  That was my turf I said.

  'That's why the CIA is happy with you, they keep on asking me where haven't you traveled.

  Usually, only in the hot spots, I said.

  'And that's why the CIA is very happy with you. They love the idea of a middle-aged Australian with bad teeth who dresses badly being their man in Asia.'

  Jack knew how to turn it on when he knew there was a big payment at the other end of a mission.

  When do you want us over there, I asked.

  As soon as possible, said Jack, I could hear giggling in the background, I'm sure he was training up more assassins.

  Then the line went dead.

  I'd have to break the news to our team.

  I'm sure they'd take it well, especially after I told them that there's a Pizza Hut on the island.

  And I had an idea where the Malaysian scum bag was hiding.

  The ferry ride always gets me in the mood.

  The salt air.

  Above, just blue sky.

  Below, warm tempting water.

  I always wanted to take a dive and get lost in Earth's womb and incubate some more on the wonder's of beautiful earth.

  'Snap out of it,' said Max. The ferry was slowing down and Naga, Batam's port town, was closing in on us, realer than life.

  We wouldn't linger.

  I was taking the long route.

  We needed to keep this stealth.

  'What's the hurry,' said Cindy. She had heard of Batam nightlife and wanted a chance to turn on Max and Frank.

  'And I want to show you how loving twin sister can be,' said Novi.

  Bintan island would have to wait. We were staying the night on Batam, I said to the girls, and that we could catch the early morning ferry to Bintan in the morning.

  It was only a 90-minute ferry ride, I added, 'and letting down our hair after two successful missions would do us the world of good.'

  Max was licking his lips in anticipation.

  The last big session we had was at the cemetery at Surabaya.

  ''All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy,' said Max.

  Tell Jack that, I said.

  I had a feeling we'd be seeing him very soon with his new recruit.

  Now who are we looking for?

  I had forgotten his name.

  No sooner you bumped off one aswwipe, another one would pop up in its place.

  It was the times we were living.

  Always a hero who wanted to be a martyr.

  Killing innocent people for a cause has never been my game.

  Was it Ali, Abdul, Raheen?

  'It doesn't matter who it is,' said Jack, who as good as word had turned up to Batam
island, 'it's that we kill them and make them think twice about detonating a bomb in a public place.'

  The spineless swines.

  'Now mind your colorful language,' said Jack.

  It was really good to see him.

  He was with his new assistant.

  No silicon on this gal.

  She had to be a mix of Malay and Chinese, with a sprinkling of Dutch in her.

  She was gorgeous.

  'If you continue talking about me in the third person,' she said, 'I'll have to clobber you.'

  She had spunk too. Fancy taking some in your mouth?

  I got clobbered. I couldn't say I didn't enjoy it.

  I wiped the blood from my lip and shook her hand.

  'I'm Caramel,' she said and Jack just looked on like he was enjoying a good round of boxing. In some ways he was.

  Wan Mohammed was at the Salon Bar, said the cute little waitress who doubled as a whore at knock-off time.

  No one came to Batam, even Tina, that was her name, unless they were going to make money.

  I noticed she was well endowed in the chest department, a big ass, they were usually the best fucks and I slipped her a crisp one hundred dollar American note for her information.

  'There's more of those notes,' I said, as I downed another Bintang beer, ' if you can just tell me where he's staying on Bintan Island, I might even through in a fuck.'

  Tina liked the idea of that. She liked the bulk of Frank, his six pack disappeared decades ago, but he knew what to say to the girls.

  'You mean you buy them off,' said Jack, who was sitting with Cindy and Novi and Max, while a cover band, Indonesians dressed up in Country and Western outfits, were belting out a Willie Nelson song.

  'Wasted days and wasted nights,' wailed the hot lead singer, she was recruitment material and her boobies were trying to bust out of her white satin top.

  Sex sells in these kinda island resorts. Even a good Muslim girl will suck cock for the almighty dollar.

  Frank loved the corrupting element of money.

  He knew he wouldn't do so well in a barter economy.

  Caramel had to be a web girl.

  Jack spent a lot of his time online recruiting.

  'It is this what you mean,' said Caramel, who was reading my thoughts.

  She pulled out her phone and showed me a clip of her entertaining.

  She was wearing a full-body swimsuit, blue, with a slit cut out around the pussy region.

  Dangling from her shaved pussy was some kind of pink receptor.

  In the video, she was moaning every time someone tipped her.

  She'd flash her boobs to the big tippers, by tucking them out of her swimsuit.

  They were breasts to die for.

  'You mean breasts to titty fuck,' she said, leaning in close to me, I could smell mint on her breath and the raspberry lip gloss she was wearing, accentuated her full blow job lips.

  'Couldn't we start with a kiss,' she said, as she threw back another Johny Walker black.

  I ordered another round.

  I wanted her pissed.

  I wanted to taste those blow job lips, preferably on the end of my cock.

  Cockteasers like Caramel, Cindy and Novi couldn't help me.

  We were dealing with a cold-blooded killer here.

  A black mutt came in from outside.

  He was adorable, you could tell he was a pedigree.

  I'd chance that he was taken care of by a Westerner and the poor dog lost its way.

  It was a sniffer alright and his nose had brought him here to the Salon.

  He was smelling out the menstruating whores.

  'Come here, you little bugger,' I said.

  Blackie beelined to Caramel's crutch.

  'Yes,' she said to the dog, 'I'm menstruating, but that never stops me from having a good fuck.'

  I had an idea. Run with me, I told the group, who were really letting their hair down and getting blind drunk. I could drink with the best of them, and after my tenth shot of vodka and god knows what else, I was only feeling tipsy, so I was up to the investigation.

  Blackie nudged me outside, down the road, and led me into a hotel, a dive, to room 101. I kicked down the door and sniffed the white powder on the floor.

  Just as I thought.

  The receptionist said a Malaysian had just checked out. She said he was carrying two large suitcases.

  She had called a taxi for him to take him down to the ferry terminal for Bintan Island.

  The lead was getting hotter by the minute.

  Who knows, Caramel might give me a friendly titty fuck for encouragement.

  And Blackie, Jack said he'd take care of him down at the village of sweet smelling water. In fact, Blackie was on the next plane with Jack, who said he had some admin work to do.

  'I know I can trust you when the shit hits the fan,' he said as he left the bar for the 1am flight to Surabaya where he'd take his own private jet from there.

  Money, I had plenty of it.

  I've always wanted to do good for society.

  Giving back isn't a bad thing, is it?

  'It's what attracts me to you,' said Caramel, who decided to stay.

  Her tongue flicked out and danced with mine.

  'Yes, of course, you can escort me,' I said.

  I'm good at mind reading too.

  She wanted to track down Wan Mohammed now and I had a pretty good idea where he was located.

  No one in a million years would think of it, except me.

  It's the Malaysian connection, I said, to Caramel, as we both jumped into the helicopter.

  Jack knew we'd be needing one and had arranged for one with a personal pilot.

  Caramel was getting wet with excitement.

  What normally takes 90 minutes by boat, only took us ten minutes in the Apache helicopter which had a bar fridge topped up with liquor.

  After five minutes of exploring each other's cavities, soon after the military helicopter landed on a football field, on Bintan Island, a five-minute walk to the ferry terminal and downtown.

  Being pitch dark, we didn't do much sightseeing. But during the course of the ten-minute flight, Caramel showed me a few delights under her black catsuit, with matching cat mask.

  She was my ideal cat woman.

  Her Double E boobs screamed for escape in her tight hugging cat-suit and her nipples couldn't hide from the very thin clinging material, a cross between silk and nylon, that hugged every inch of her killer curves.

  'And once you catch Wan Mohammed,' she said, 'you are all mine.'

  I'd have to complete this mission fast.

  My balls were about to explode.

  He's building a huge bomb made from farm fertilizer, I told Caramel.

  'And I think he plans to transport and deliver the bomb by boat, packed with nails and bolts.'

  I paused, admiring her heaving boobs.

  'My bet it's a terror attack on Clarkson Quey, where he hopes to get maximum damage.'

  It didn't have the ISIS stamp written over it, I said to Caramel, it seemed more Go Fund Me terror attack.

  'ISIS was just a blob of jelly that wobbled any way the Western press wanted it to,' I continued, I could tell Caramel was getting impatient as she kept on flicking her silky black hair. 'And the Obama Administration never killed Bin Laden, and if he did, then why didn't we see pictures of his dead body like we did with Sadam Hussain?'

  Caramel raised her thin tapered eyebrows and wiggled her pixish nose, then she slapped my face with her bare titties, telling me to snap out of it and get on with the mission.

  She could be a tough bitch, no doubt about it.

  However, she still needed to get me worked up, in a feverish pitch, if I was to pull this off and fuck her senseless and save thousands of Singaporeans and tourists from a horrible death.

  It was working.

  'So where do you think he took those two suitcases of fertilizer powder,' asked Caramel.

  This gal couldn't be accused o
f being a bimbo. She had brains too.

  'Cut the shit and cut to the chase,' she said, in response to my male-centric thoughts, then she rubbed herself against me. I wouldn't say they were hard, but a warmth washed over me as she briefly invigorated me with a boobie hug. They were soft and firm.

  'Like a ripe avocado?'

  Something like that Caramel.

  I was keen to explore the contours of her Double E tits, naturally grown on the mountain slopes of East Java.

  We were making our way down to the terminal.

  We had to pass slums built up on stilts. I could hear coughing, the clutter of early morning cooking and buckets of human waste being thrown into the warm waters below. At the end of ramshackle buildings made from cardboard, plywood and corrugated iron, a jet ski was waiting for us.

  'Where are we going?' she asked.

  'Over there,' I said, it was an island where the Malay language was borne.

  And I'd bet my dirty jocks, I said to Caramel, that Wan Mohammed is about to load up the boat with the carefully packed explosives into a fishing trawler and will leave at sunrise for the two-hour ride to Singapore.

  'Then we need to act quickly,' said Caramel, as she full throttled the jet ski across the narrow strait separating us from the tiny island of Penyengat.

  Wan heard a loud noise.

  'Who the fuck is that,' he said.

  He was going to go out in glory.

  The Singaporeans denied him permanent residency and he was under investigation for cigarette smuggling.

  The noise got louder and closer.

  The sun was peeking out of a slit in the sky.

  Today he was going to teach Singapore a lesson.

  The first morning rays got caught on the parapet of the Mesjid Raya Sultan Riau, the birthplace of the Malay language and Malaysia's rightful island.

  'I'll teach those Indonesian sons of bitches next,' he said.

  The Malaysians were always teaching the Indonesians.

  And quite frankly, the Indonesia government looked upon their extremist's cousins up north with suspicion.

  The call of prayer drowned out the jet ski.

  Wan didn't know what hit him.

  It was a pair of two very large tits.

  Frank struck next with a cattle prodder.

  Then Caramel did the most amazing thing, a lap dance.

  The Indonesia intelligence officers were all over the island once Frank activated a signal signifying that 'Operation Take Wan Down' was underway.