Under Cover: A Spyder and the Spy Erotic Short Story

by Scott, Kameron

  And maybe there was a bit of the bad boy still left in him.

  So, he rocked the chair a bit forward, tipped his head, and settled his mouth right over her, licking his tongue right into her fold and dragging it slowly over her slick heat. She made a sort of gurgling sound in response, and it sent a trail of fire through him and straight to his cock.

  He settled in against her more firmly, licking broad stripes up her center and flicking the tip of his tongue across her clit. She squirmed and twisted her legs as he did. He worked down lower and thrust his tongue up into her soaked opening, lapping at the wetness and pushing his face in hard to get as deeply inside as possible. He held his breath and set to his work, eliciting muffled sounds of excitement and pleasure from her. Still, he wanted more.

  Torture could be fun, when it was done right.

  "Hold yourself open for me. I can't get to you," he rasped.

  He marveled at her flexibility as she held herself in place against him with the backs of her knees on the chair and her shoulders on the desk. She positioned herself so that she was able to reach down and pull her folds further apart with her fingers. She was wide open before him now, and he dove back in, licking at the exposed, pink flesh. At last, he settled his lips over her swollen clit again and began suckling softly. He increased the pressure as she began rocking up against his face. He would have liked to slide his fingers into her as he tugged on the swollen hood with his mouth. He settled for sucking and flicking his tongue against her in a steady rhythm that had her moaning in a way that made his balls tighten and his cock pound.

  He could feel her legs trembling on either side of his head, and he knew she was close. He licked her over and over then sucked on the bundle of nerves one last time, hard. She bucked up into his face and came with a stifled scream. He could feel the tiny convulsions against his lips, and pressed his tongue up into her until the tremors had settled into small aftershocks. Then he lifted his head and took deep breaths, committing to memory the picture of her spread out before him, wet and pink and wrecked. The sight made him even more aware of the tightness in his trousers that was approaching the point of painfulness.

  A few moments later, she slid her legs slowly off him and flipped one over his chair so she could stand up. He saw how shaky she was, and smiled in triumph.

  She looked up at him, her eyes drenched with satisfaction as she hitched her skirt back into place. The playful smile on her face told him they weren't done yet. Pulling the chair out, she slid gracefully down and settled on her knees between his legs. He watched and felt her red nails scratch gently up the thighs of his trousers before those clever fingers settled at his zip. She unfastened his pants and pulled his dripping cock out from the slit in his silk boxers. He was hard and stiff already and his feeling of relief at being out of his pants was intoxicating.

  "You know," she murmured as she dipped her head toward the tip of his penis, "this would all be easier if you didn't wear underwear either. Though the silk is a nice touch." The last was breathed against the swollen head of his cock, her lips brushing over his sensitive skin, right before she took him into her mouth.

  His back arched as much as it could as she sucked on his tip, swirling her tongue and dipping it into the slight depression of his slit. It was painful to be teased so playfully after how hard she had gotten him.

  "Hey," he breathed, "I didn't have time to go slow. Neither do you."

  She laughed with him in her mouth and sent vibrations right through him. She sucked him into her, deeply, and he nearly bit his lip bloody when her mouth settled almost at the base of his cock. She swallowed lewdly around his flesh a few times before she began sliding up and down the column of his shaft.

  She set up a steady rhythm, twisting her tongue against the underside of his cock as she sucked him. His hands were fisted, his fingernails digging small crescents into the skin of his palms. He finally closed his eyes, focusing on the sensation, and when one of those clever hands slid into his boxers to gently cup his sack, he knew he was lost. One long, dragging pull against his cock coupled with a perfect roll of his balls in the palm of her hand, and he was gone. He managed not to buck up into her, but just barely, his muscles tight with expected release. Then he felt the edge slip past and his fluids came out in a throbbing rush. He growled deep in his chest as he felt her swallowing his cum and cradling him with her mouth and hands.

  She sucked until he was dry and then licked him clean with a few last, luxurious swipes. Sliding herself off from his lap, she kissed his cock softly and tucked it back into his trousers. He was not deflating quickly, not after that, and it was a matter of logistics for her to get him back in and his pants done back up. She stood up and gave her dress a final adjustment right as the device behind them made a small beeping sound. They both looked down at their watches at the same time.

  Phillip looked up at her. She looked back at him as if to dare him to say something about careful planning. He wisely kept quiet.

  Christine walked to the desk and disengaged the computer access device from the USB port. She dropped it into her evening bag as she retrieved it from the floor. Phillip looked at it, wondering how she had fit the device, this rope, and whatever else she had needed into it. Maybe he could get her to share some of her secrets, maybe during another torture session like this one. The thought made him smile.

  She opened a drawer of the desk and rummaged around for a moment, finally pulling a pair of scissors from inside and using them to cut the tape that bound his hands to the chair. She untied the rope and unwound it into a coil and placed it back into her evening bag next to the portable drive.

  He tugged the rest of the tape from his clothing and skin then ripped off what was still stuck to the chair. He wadded it up and put it in his pocket. No evidence. No one could know they were here. He looked with dismay at the cuffs of his tux jacket. Sticky residue was still clearly evident in places.

  "Don't worry," she said to him. "No one will notice. Now, come on."

  Together they put the room back in order. They placed all the things she had taken off the desk, back into the exact positions they had been in. Everything was as it had been before.

  They went to the door together and paused to listen, eyes on their watches. Absently, Phillip started humming "Swinging On a Star." She looked at him from under knit eyebrows, and he stopped.

  He opened the door for her with as gentlemanly a flourish of his arm as he could manage, and they stepped out a few seconds later, steps synchronized. They retraced their steps, pausing again for the security camera to pan, and then headed for the elevator. They both slid quickly inside as the doors whooshed open, and he punched the button for the ground floor.

  Nothing happened. The elevator car stayed where it was.

  "What in God's name," he whispered, pushing the button again.

  "If you push it a third time, it activates an alarm," Christine whispered to him, her smug satisfaction etched into the delicate features of her face.

  He had always marveled at how she could be so beautiful and so annoying at the exact same time. Right now it was less alluring than it was infuriating.

  "So what did we miss?" he asked her.

  "A lot, apparently." She opened her bag again and this time brought out a small key. Inserting it into the keyhole above the number pad she turned it to the right, and then all the way to the left, before taking it out again.

  She dropped the key into her purse. "Try it now."

  He eyed her suspiciously.

  "Look, if the alarm goes off we both get caught. You know I wouldn't risk it."

  That was true. She might want to trap him in an office chair and take the time to sexually abuse him so that she could demonstrate her superiority, but she'd never risk getting caught herself.

  He pushed the button for the ground floor.

  And the elevator car started down.

  "They installed a new security system last week," she told him. "Extra precautions against the li
kes of you and me coming in to take their valuable information from their highly guarded computer."

  Last week? No wonder his agency hadn't known about it. But then, if Christine knew about it, that meant...

  "You've got a person on the inside," he said, the light dawning behind his eyes.

  She pursed her lips and stared at the elevator doors. "I'm sure that I don't know what you're talking about."

  But he knew he was right. "Tell me who it is."

  She laughed out loud, not even trying to mask her reaction. "Phillip, if we had someone on the inside, I could never tell you who."

  "Not even if I bartered for it?"

  She stared at him, her eyes openly lustful. "Depends on what you have to trade."

  "Maybe we could discuss it tonight?"

  She chewed on her lower lip. "I don't know, I have to get home to my husband. He's expecting me."

  He smiled and took hold of her hand. "My wife is expecting me too."

  They leaned into each other and kissed one last time before the elevator doors opened onto the bottom floor.

  Looking left, and the right, they found no one there. Philip checked his watch. No patrol was due through this hallway for another five minutes. They were free and clear.

  They strolled calmly back into the party and made their rounds, her arm through his. Their host saw them and smiled broadly as he raised his arms out wide and came over to greet them.

  "You two! Where have you been all night, I have so wanted to speak to you!"

  Oleg Bronson was a portly German man who had made his fortune, at least on paper, in the steel industry. As Phillip and Christine had both learned tonight, his real fortune had come from less than honorable means.

  "Oleg, my friend," Phillip smiled easily at the man and adopted his persona of worldly patron of the arts again. "We have so enjoyed this little get together. I'm afraid my wife and I have to leave now. Can we call on you sometime this week? For dinner, perhaps?"

  Oleg slapped him on the back good-naturedly and told him to make the arrangements with his secretary. And then they were on their way out.

  They stepped out into a rather pleasant evening. Together they walked to the end of the block, and he hailed them a cab.

  They settled into the seats after giving the word to the driver. A few moments later, he pulled the modified flash drive he'd intended to use tonight out of his pocket. Not much, compared to the device she had used. He handed over to her, and she slipped it into her handbag.

  "I'll have a copy to you in the morning," she assured him.

  "Will I have to keep tabs on you to make sure that happens?" he said with a wink.

  "Shouldn't be too hard. You know where I live. And sleep. And shower. Ooh, a shower sounds really good to me right now."

  He pictured her wet, with soap over her body in all the right places. A shower sounded really good to him, too.

  They were quiet for a while until she turned to him with another blinding smile. "I don't know about you, but I'm starving."

  He was too, come to think of it. "I think we still have some lasagna left in the fridge."

  "Yeah, I think we do. That sounds good."

  He smiled down at her. "And you thought I wouldn't make it home in time for dinner with the missus."

  She laughed and settled her head against his shoulder for the rest of the ride home.

  Additional Stories

  Under Cover: A Spyder and the Spy Erotic Short Story

  Special Agent, Phillip Cole has tracked down the information that he needs, and he's just steps away from accessing the computer that will put his target in his sights. There's only one small problem—someone has beat him to it. Fortunately, this is a competitor he's run against before, and she seems willing to work out a trade. There may be a way for both of them to walk away from this with a happy ending.

  * * *

  Deep Cover: A Spyder and the Spy Erotic Novella

  Phillip Cole has been summoned to a secret meeting and given a new assignment. He's also been given a temporary partner to aid him in his task. He's worked with her before, but their styles certainly do clash. After completing their mission, they begin to think that something is going on far bigger than a simple stolen packet of documents. In fact, they're beginning to think that they may have stumbled into a web that someone has been spinning for quite a long time.

  * * *

  Blown Cover: A Spyder and the Spy Erotic Novella

  Coming 2014

  Bonus Excerpt: Deep Cover

  Los Montanas

  Somewhere in South America

  SPECIAL AGENT PHILLIP COLE had been to most places in the world. He'd never been here.

  Border agents had different ways of operating in different countries around the world. The border agents in the United States on the Mexican U.S. border, for instance, were very proactive. Those who guarded the border between France and Belgium, on the other hand, were a lot more lax.

  The border agents in South America were somewhere in between.

  Now what this meant for him, was two things. One, nothing was ever easy in the tiny country of Los Montanas. Two, things were a lot easier here when you had enough money to spread around. And he had the money to do it, thanks to the company.

  Pulling up to the border crossing, he prepared his documents. The crossing was just a strip of highway in the middle of a barren area of desert between two countries, with a white stone building big enough for the two guards in it, and two manually operated crossing arms, one for the road headed West and one for the road headed East.

  There was no other traffic. Not a lot of people had a need to get into Los Montanas. Out of, sure, but not into. The guard actually looked surprised to see him pulling up in his rented car. The guy had a pencil thin mustache and mirrored sunglasses and wore his brown uniform like a comfortable pair of pajamas.

  "Hola Señor," Phillip greeted the guard. There was no answer, but Phillip didn't care. The man was too busy looking at the documents Phillip handed him. The documents, and the two hundred dollars tucked underneath.

  The man elbowed his partner in the booth and both of them looked over their sunglasses at the cash. And then looked at Phillip with very obvious intent.

  Phillip frowned but produced two more hundred-dollar bills. Time was when decent people would be happy with a hundred dollar bribe and not ask for more.

  The guards smiled at him and called him friend and sent him through the gate. Problem one out of the way.

  The meeting he was in route to had been set up weeks prior by the company. If the person he was sent here to meet had the information that had been promised, an entire Middle Eastern dictatorship could be toppled. That was the kind of intelligence his company was extremely interested in.

  The road led to a small village of rundown homes and clay brick buildings. There were a couple of restaurants and a hotel that was going to be his rest stop for the night. Now that he was in country, he didn't have to worry about sneaking around as much, but he still couldn't go out in public too often. A white, American male such as himself in a place like this would stick out like a sore thumb. And then people would get to wondering, and asking questions, and that was something he didn't need.

  He checked into the hotel and went up to a bare room with hardly a glance from the tired old hotel owner. Kicking off his shoes, he lay down on the bed and closed his eyes. It had taken him a long time to get here, and he was tired.

  What he really wanted to do was go home. He had worked for the company across Europe and across the world, and he didn't mind the life of globetrotting. But he didn't care for this part of the world much. It was hot, and it was dusty, and it was depressing.

  A knock on the door woke him with a start. He hadn't even realized he had been dozing.

  The knock came again. "No me molestes, por favor," he said to whoever it was, just wanting a little peace for the night.

  The door burst inward, a kick breaking the lock and splintering the d
ry wood.

  A man in black pants and a black sweater and extremely large black boots strode into the room carrying a revolver. He swung the barrel of the gun toward Phillip with a menacing smile.

  "I speak English, Señor. There is no need to butcher our fine language."

  Phillip sat up, keeping his hands in the air as he did.

  "Good, that is good, Señor. Now. I would like it very much if you gave to me your money."

  Phillip recognized the man, finally. "You left your glasses back at the guard shack," he told the border guard.

  Border guards. Different in every country.

  The man laughed and waved the pistol around. "You are a very funny man. But we can laugh about this later. Money now, por favor."

  Phillip nodded over to the corner where his single bag of luggage was. "In the bag."

  The guard looked at the bag across the room, then looked back at Phillip. "Open it," he ordered.

  Phillip shrugged and got up off the bed. "Suit yourself. How much of it do you want?"

  "You are joking now, yes? American humor. Bah. All of it, Señor. Of course. All of it."

  Of course, Phillip thought, picking the bag up and turning toward the man.

  The tazer probes zipped out from the bag's front compartment as Phillip triggered the hidden weapon from inside the bag.

  Both probes hit true, one in the man's chest and the other in the abdomen. The resulting voltage ripping through the would-be robber's body caused the man to convulse and dance in place and stutter with clacking teeth. His muscles tensed involuntarily and his finger pulled the trigger of his gun.

  The bullet zipped by Phillip's head close enough that he could feel the breeze of it and then embedded in the wall.

  Phillip kept the shock going for longer than he reasonably needed to, just because. The guard dropped to the floor panting, still seizing, when he finally did turn the tazer off.