Agent 69- Stroken, Not Stirred

by Callista Hawkes

  “It was not good for you?” She asks, looking up at you questioningly.

  “On the contrary.” You smile, pulling off your trousers and underpants. “Your technique is a little too good.” Zehra returns your smile, her relief obvious.

  “Then please, let me continue.” She purrs thickly. “You may take pleasure in my mouth if you wish it.” Your eyes widen. “I want you to.” She adds. You guide your cock back to her lips, but this time she feathers her tongue down her underside of your shaft down to your balls. You groan as you feel her tongue slithering all over them, leaving them wet with saliva before she licks back up to the head and takes it back into her mouth.

  “That feels incredible.” You grunt, running your fingers through her silky black hair as she quickly finds her earlier rhythm. You can feel the come churning in your balls and as your eyes meet, you can tell Zehra knows it too. Her dark brown eyes glint with lust filled excitement and her pace quickens as she drives you over the edge. With a roar of release, you feel the blissful sensation of your balls twitching as your come races up your shaft to explode in her waiting mouth. You hold her head tightly, groaning in ecstasy as she hungrily sucks at your erupting cock, your seed splashing across her tongue. As she draws the last of your come from your balls, you slip from her lips feeling light headed.

  “Damn, that was good.” You smile weakly at her as she gulps down the mouthful of your thick creamy seed. She licks her lips and grins up at you, her eyes sparkling at your satisfied expression.

  Continue

  “We have sealed agreement.” Zehra tells you simply. You nod, catching your breath for a moment before protecting her modesty and pulling her clothes back on before pulling up your own trousers.

  “Hakan!” You call out, winking conspiratorially at Zehra. “The prisoner is ready to talk.”

  “Good work my friend.” He tells you as he steps back in, his bushy moustache twitching as he grins broadly at you before glancing kindly at Zehra. “Now my dear, what do you have to tell us?”

  “It all happen three nights ago.” Zehra tells you. “My employer owns warehouse. We guard building. This not unusual. My employer is Turkish crime syndicate.” She shrugs. “Drugs often come in across Black sea. This time different. No drugs. Missiles! Two missiles. Men from ship come. They work on missiles. Remove something from inside.”

  “The GPS tracking system I presume.” You murmur to Hakan, who nods.

  “Missiles go back on cargo ship. Then men from ship shoot guards, take bodies and drop them into harbour. I hide in shadows. Men load missiles back onto ship and lock doors behind them. I trapped here for three days. Then ghost man comes. He find me. He going to kill me. The rest you know.”

  “Did you see the name of the ship?” You ask.

  “Yes. Ship called Janus.” You immediately reach for your phone.

  “A ship matching your informant’s description passed Gibraltar two days ago.” Miss Meriweather tells you over the phone half an hour later. “SS Janus. Registered in the Bahamas.”

  “Who owns the ship?” You ask, the phone pressed hard against your ear as you pace around the warehouse.

  “A Turkish shipping company, but we’ve dug a little deeper and found that they are owned by Kruger Corporation.”

  “As in Hugo Kruger, the billionaire Industrialist?” You ask.

  “Yes.” Miss Meriweather replies.

  “Then he has just become a person of interest.” You reply, glancing at Hakan.

  “Surely not.” Hakan says. “Hugo Kruger is something of a philanthropist, donating millions to develop the townships in his native Johannesburg and elsewhere. He has been lauded throughout the world as a generous humanitarian. Perhaps someone else within his organisation.”

  “Perhaps…” You muse.

  “An interesting turn of events.” Hakan frowns. “What next?”

  First things first. Deal with Zehra

  Travel to Johannesburg and investigate Hugo Kruger

  “We have one loose end to deal with.” You glance across at Zehra, still chained up beneath the crane. She returns your gaze, concern etched on her features as she realises you are discussing her fate.

  “Yes.” Hakan replies, deep in thought. “She was co-operative and kept to her word, but she is still a criminal James. What do you want to do?”

  She kept to her word, so you will keep to yours

  She is a criminal and needs to be dealt with accordingly

  “Regardless of her chequered past, she’s redeemed herself with intel that might have saved the lives of millions.” You tell Hakan. “I’ll keep to my word.” You stride across towards her and unlock her handcuffs. She rubs her tender wrists and gazes uncertainly into your eyes.

  “England is beautiful this time of year.” You grin.

  “Thank you James.” She smiles, her relief palpable. She throws her arms around you and presses her lips to yours, kissing you tenderly. You gently ease her away, conscious that you have a pressing assignment to carry out.

  “Hakan will make the necessary arrangements.” You tell her. She nods, glancing at him.

  “Yes, come my dear.” He grins beneath his bushy moustache. “A new life awaits.” He turns to you and shakes you warmly by the hand. “You have time to celebrate before you go?” He asks. “I know a place, nice ambience, the women are beautiful…”

  There is not a moment to lose. Go to Johannesburg

  “You’re right, we can’t simply ignore the sins of her past.” You tell Hakan. “Still, perhaps there’s a way I can still keep my word.” You turn to Zehra who eyes you suspiciously. You lower the winch and unhook her chains but make no move to remove her handcuffs.

  “What is this?” She asks, her dark brown eyes boring into yours.

  “I’ll approve your extradition to England, but as a prisoner.” You tell her. “You must still atone for your past crimes. When you have served your time, you may stay in England as agreed.”

  “Bastard!” She spits. “We made blood oath! Your seed is within me!”

  “I did what I needed to do to get the information I needed.” You tell her coldly.

  “A curse on you.” She tells you darkly as Hakan grasps her arm.

  “Calm yourself my dear.” He soothes her. “Life in an English prison will be far easier than a Turkish one and you will still have a better life eventually.” She seems less than convinced, glaring at you as he begins to lead her away.

  “You are leaving straight away?” Hakan asks.

  There is not a moment to lose. Go to Johannesburg

  You grasp Zehra’s hips and twist her roughly around in her chains so she has her back to you. She gasps with a mixture of surprise and excitement as you pull her towards you, pressing her firm buttocks against your groin. You slide your hands upwards, grasping the hem of her tight fitting vest and pulling it up above her chest. You cup her small, firm breasts, Zehra moaning with pleasure as you caress them, pushing back against you and grinding her buttocks against your rapidly hardening cock. You lean forward, pressing your lips to the side of her neck, Zehra letting out a low moan of delight as you kiss her soft flesh.

  “Fuck me.” She murmurs thickly as you pinch the hard buds of her nipples. You slide your hands down to her waist, unfastening her cargo pants and tugging them down to her ankles. You slide a hand down between her legs, feeling the delicate lacy fabric of her panties and the soft down of her pubic hair beneath. You slip your fingers lower, Zehra tensing up and letting out a gasp of excitement as you find her puffy labia. Your fingertips trace the length of her slit, detecting moistness seeping through the gusset. You smile, sliding your lips up to her ear.

  “You like to be tied up don’t you?” You whisper, slowly rubbing her through the flimsy material. She replies only with a low groan, grinding back against you as you continue to rub at her pussy. You press a little more firmly, your fingers pressing the increasingly damp fabric between her lips and making Zehra gasp with delight. Your hard cock throbs
painfully within the confines of your trousers and unable to stand it anymore, you pull back from her, fumbling with your fly before pulling your aching shaft free.

  “Yes, yes!” Zehra moans over her shoulder as you hook your fingers into the waistband of her panties and peel them down her legs. She kicks them away and parts her legs in anticipation as you press your body back against hers, your cock slipping between her legs. Instead of pushing inside her, you push back and forth, your cock rubbing against her moist, puffy lips. Zehra wriggles in her bonds, trying to adjust her position so that you slip inside but to no avail. You smile at her cry of frustration as you continue to drag the bulbous tip of your cock along her slit.

  “Fuck me.” She repeats, this time breathless with desire, a note of desperation in her voice. You ignore her, continuing to slide your length through her sodden trench, feeling her warm wetness coating the topside of your hard shaft. Zehra trembles with need and while you are enjoying tormenting her, your own lustful desires need sating as much as hers.

  Turn her around and slip your cock inside her

  Pull back a little and guide the tip to her arse

  You pull back a little, the head of your cock trailing through the warm wetness of her slit. Zehra moans in anticipation, expecting you to press into her, but instead you pull back further still until the bulbous head nestles between her buttocks. She flinches in surprise, her buttocks clenching and squeezing the tip. She glances over her shoulder at you, her brown eyes gazing fearfully into yours.

  “It’s okay.” You soothe, kissing her tenderly. “I’ll be gentle, I promise.” She nods, her expression softening and you feel her buttocks relax. You grip her hips and apply pressure, pushing against the tight knot of muscle until she grunts as the head pops inside. You groan as you feel her sphincter instinctively clench your shaft, but hold still for a moment, allowing her to grow accustomed to the intruder. You feel her relax and push back, grunting as your shaft slowly slides all that way inside the hot, snug confines of her arse.

  “So full!” She groans, gyrating her hips against you. You moan thickly in reply, sliding a hand from her hip down to her pussy and rubbing her clitoris as you begin to thrust into her tight back passage. Any reservations Zehra might have harboured are swiftly forgotten as she pushes back against you, meeting your thrusts and driving your cock deeply inside her. Her pussy is drenched and you can feel her juices trickling down your shaft and onto your balls. Her breathing becomes increasingly ragged and her moans become louder and more intense, echoing around the warehouse. You wonder if Hakan can hear her cries as you pound into her, your excitement driving you towards your own climax.

  “Damn, that feels good.” You pant as you feel your balls tightening.

  “Take pleasure inside me.” She tells you, twisting her head around, her lust filled eyes meeting yours. “Give me your seed.” Broken English or not, that sends you over the edge and with a roar of release, you explode into her tight hole. You fire stream after stream of your creamy come into the hot confines of her arse which seems to send her over the edge too. With a cry of ecstasy, she jerks and judders in her chains as a powerful orgasm surges through her. You can feel her clitoris twitching against your fingers and her sphincter gripping your shaft tightly as she trembles and moans with pleasure. As you pump the last of your seed into her quivering body, you slip from her buttocks before taking an unsteady step back. You gaze at the beautiful half naked woman chained up before you, from her silky black hair to her narrow waist and her firm buttocks and lower to her toned thighs and slender legs.

  “That was wonderful.” You smile as she glances over her shoulder at you, her face a picture of satisfaction.

  Continue

  “There’s no time to waste.” You tell Hakan. “I’ll go to Johannesburg immediately and see what I can dig up on Kruger. Can you deal with Zehra and make the necessary arrangements?”

  “Of course.” Hakan nods. “Good luck my friend.”

  You arrive in Johannesburg the next morning, the temperature rising as the sun climbs the cloudless South African sky. As you make your way out of the airport, your phone rings.

  “Agent 69.” N begins brusquely. “You have arrived in Johannesburg?”

  “I have.” You reply.

  “Excellent. Hugo Kruger is hosting a Charity Gala at the Kruger Corporation building in the city centre. You are to assume an alias and attend the Gala as a guest. Find out what you can and then infiltrate the server room in the basement. Upload the contents of the server to our mainframe. If he has any secrets, we’ll find them.”

  “Have you managed to dig anything up on him at your end?”

  “Yes and no.” She tells you. “Our preliminary investigations haven’t turned up anything of note. Kruger has a relatively clean record. He has a ruthless streak, but no more than any other successful businessman. No strong political affiliations or vices.”

  “So far, so dull.” You reply.

  “Indeed. However, our American friends have taken an interest in him.” N tells you. “The CIA have a deep cover agent imbedded within Kruger’s organisation. Our friends across the pond would rather not blow their operative’s cover at this moment, but she…”

  “She.” You echo.

  “Yes, ‘She’!” N replies impatiently. “As she is in deep cover, she has gone dark, so even the CIA have no way to contact her. However, they believe that she intends to access the server room too, so our interests and that of the CIA and their agent should align. Try to make contact and she may be able to assist you if you cannot gain access to the server room yourself.”

  “Do we have a photo of the agent?” You ask.

  “No, the CIA refuse to divulge much information to us, however she is a redhead and to politely paraphrase what my opposite number at the CIA said, she is rather large in the bust.” You stifle a chuckle, but it does not go undetected.

  “One last thing.” N tells you sternly, “Her codename is Jackrabbit.”

  “Jackrabbit!?” You echo.

  “Yes.” N replies impatiently.

  “Thank you ma’am.” You reply.

  “Good luck Agent 69.” N replies before ending the call and checking your watch. You have a few hours to kill.

  Check in with Hakan

  Make arrangements to attend Kruger’s Gala

  You reach for your phone and call Hakan.

  “Hello my old friend.” His voice booms. “Any progress with Kruger.”

  “Not yet,” You reply, “Anything at your end?”

  “We’ve pulled in the boss of the crime syndicate that owns the warehouse.” Hakan tells you. “We have nothing to link him directly to the theft of the missiles of course, but he wouldn’t make a good poker player. When we mentioned Hugo Kruger, he went pale and refused to say another word. How do you English say? That you are barking up the right tree?”

  “Close enough.” You grin. “Thanks.”

  “Good luck my friend.” Hakan tells you before ending the call. You smile grimly, looking forward to locking horns with Hugo Kruger.

  Make arrangements to attend Kruger’s Gala

  You call MI6’s Johannesburg outpost and make arrangements to have yourself added to the guest list (Under an alias of course) and with the appropriate forged identification. That done, you again check your watch. Enough time to locate Johannesburg’s best tailor…

  A few hours later, you adjust your bowtie and straighten your tuxedo jacket before striding into the opulent ballroom within the Kruger Corporation building. The huge chamber is appointed in the style of a French chateau with ornate chandeliers hanging from the ceiling while fine paintings and luxurious drapes hang from the walls. The charity gala is in full swing and you recognise a number of famous dignitaries, film stars, politicians and businessmen all dressed in their finest evening wear. You linger on the periphery for a moment before spotting the man himself. Hugo Kruger, a bull on a man, holding court in the centre of the room surrounded by a selection of braying sy
cophants. Despite having been in business for some twenty-five years, he still has the look of the rugby player he once was in his youth with his close-cropped hair, crooked nose and powerful physique. Once touted as a future rugby international, he turned his back on a promising career with the Springboks to pursue a career in business. You notice among Kruger’s group a couple of people of interest: One, an elegant brunette in a stylish vintage purple dress has her arm linked into his and narrows her eyes at any of the other beautiful women who she deems to be becoming overfamiliar with her man. The other, a beautiful voluptuous redhead wearing a long, flowing green dress that hugs her figure, the low cut neckline drawing your gaze to her impressive cleavage. Though within the group, she seems to stand apart, not laughing with the others and regarding Kruger with cool detachment. You smile to yourself, certain that she is the CIA’s embedded operative.

  Introduce yourself to Kruger

  Speak to the brunette

  Make contact with the redhead

  You make your way across the room to the throng of people surrounding Kruger. His brunette lady friend, her accent French, appears to be voicing her displeasure at something.

  “If you don’t like it Bérénice, then perhaps you should return to Paris and I will arrange to have all your items sent on.” He tells her, his voice low but firm. “Not including anything you have bought with my money of course…” He grins humourlessly at her, fixing her with a flinty eyed stare. She glares coolly back at him for a moment before lowering her head in submission. He leans forward and whispers in her ear. “A wise decision my dear. After all, there are plenty of pretty, younger women who would jump at the chance of taking your place as my… assistant.” You clear your throat, Kruger turning to you, a flash of anger in his eyes that quickly evaporates.