Agent 69- Stroken, Not Stirred

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Agent 69- Stroken, Not Stirred Page 27

by Callista Hawkes


  “I insist monsieur.” She chuckles sexily. You glare at her, realising that far from seeking redemption, Bérénice Marceau is just as psychotic as Kruger. “What do you want to do to me?” She smiles, delighting in your anger. “Would you like me to finish you with my mouth or…” She reaches behind her and runs a finger between her shapely buttocks, “Perhaps you have something more unorthodox in mind?”

  Have her take you in her mouth

  Slip your cock inside her arse

  Mesmerized at the thought of entering Bérénice’s tightest orifice, you guide your hard shaft towards her arse. She giggles with delight, reaching back and grasping her cheeks, pulling them apart and lewdly displaying her puckered arsehole.

  “My God.” You groan, before pressing the bulbous tip of your cock to the tight knot of her arse.

  “Mmmm, yes.” She coos, pressing back against you, before gasping as the tight ring of muscle relaxes and the head pops inside. She pauses for a moment, her hot arse clenching the tip of your cock before she pushes back again. You watch in amazement as your thick shaft, still glistening with her juices, disappears into her narrow back passage inch by inch until her firm buttocks are pressed against you.

  “Damn, that feels good.” You gasp, Bérénice’s arse hot and snug around your shaft while her sphincter grips the base. She chuckles sexily and begins to gently rock back and forth, her stretched arse running up and down your thick length.

  “You like fucking my arse?” She purrs, glancing over her shoulder, her hazel eyes glinting with a mixture of lust and mischief. “I bet it feels so tight.” With that she clenches her sphincter, drawing an involuntary moan of surprise and pleasure as you feel the ring of muscle clamp tightly around your shaft. She chuckles and begins to push back against you with a little more urgency as she stretches to accommodate the intruder deep within her anal cavity.

  “Bérénice…” You moan, your heart thumping and your pulse racing at the sensations radiating out from your groin. You grasp her hips and begin to meet her thrusts and it’s the brunette’s turn to gasp as you drive your cock deeper still inside her.

  “Oui, oui!” She groans loudly as you find a rhythm, your cock pistoning in and out of her clenching orifice. You glance up at the timer, now reading 4:58. Less than five minutes, but as you feel your balls aching with need, you know you will never last that long. Bérénice shifts her weight, slumping forward onto the control console. You realise why as she slips her right hand beneath her and reaches between her thighs. She begins to feverishly work at her clitoris as you continue to pump your cock into her arse, desperate for the blissful release you know is only moments away. Bérénice’s moans become increasingly loud and intense as she closes in on a second climax.

  “I’m getting close!” You grunt.

  “Yes, yes!” She cries. “Come for me. Fill my arse with your thick creamy seed!” Your balls twitch as you pass the point of no return. Bellowing in ecstasy, you feel your come race up your shaft and erupt into the hot confines of her rectum. Your own climax sends Bérénice headlong into hers and she trembles as waves of pleasure surge through her, her shrill cries of ecstasy joining your loud grunts as your bodies jerk and quiver together. As your climaxes subside, you gently ease your softening cock from her arse, her stretched hole clamping shut behind it.

  “I can see why Kruger keeps you around.” You grin as Bérénice straightens and pulls the hem of her dress back down.

  “And I thought it was my charming smile.” She replies. You chuckle before glancing up at the timer. 00:26.

  “The missile!” You shout. Bérénice’s eyes widen and she quickly studies the console in front of her, biting her lower lip. Her finger hovers over one button. “What are you doing? Press it!” You insist.

  “I’m not sure if it’s the right one!” She tells you as the seconds tick away. 00:09… 00:08… 00:07… You reach out and press the button, your heart in your mouth as you glance back to the timer. It is frozen at 00:02.

  “Thank God.” You exhale before breathing a deep sigh of relief. You quickly pull on your clothes, while Bérénice straightens her dress and runs her fingers through her dishevelled hair. You wrench a fire extinguisher from the wall and swing it into each control panel, the heavy cylinder crashing into the array of buttons and dials. The metallic thuds echo around the room until every single control station is smashed. With a grim smile of satisfaction you drop the cylinder and turn to Bérénice.

  “Now, let’s finish this.” You tell her, striding from the control room.

  Continue

  “Suck my cock, you crazy bitch.” You growl.

  “Oh monsieur,” Bérénice grins, immediately turning around and dropping to her knees before you, “I love this aggressive side to you! It really turns me on.” She reaches for your cock and takes it straight into her mouth, her hands grasping your hips as her lips glide up and down your shaft, the tip nudging the back of her throat as she enthusiastically pleasures you. You groan with pleasure as you watch the beautiful brunette on her knees, her exquisite blue dress now looking crumpled and dishevelled. Feeling your gaze on her, her hazel eyes meet yours, gleaming wickedly as she bobs her head back and forth. You reach down, caressing her head, her hair silky smooth against your hands. She pulls her mouth from your cock and glances up at you, an almost feral look in her eyes.

  “Pull my hair.” She tells you.

  “What?!” You blink.

  “Pull my hair.” She repeats, reaching back and unpinning it, her long brown hair tumbling down about her shoulders. “Be rough with me. Use me. Make me suck your cock.” You reach down and gather her dark mane behind her head and grasp it in your fist. Bérénice gasps as you push her face back down onto your cock, the brunette eagerly taking your length deep inside her mouth. She lets out a muffled moan of pleasure around it as you dictate her pace, pulling her head back and forth to suit your own needs. Her hands leave your hips, one sliding down to cup your balls where she begins to gently caress them while the other slides down her own body before slipping between her legs.

  “You dirty bitch.” You growl. “No wonder Kruger took you as his mistress. You really are one insatiable whore aren’t you?” Her eyes close and she moans her agreement, her lips sucking and slurping as you impale her face on your throbbing shaft. The timer on the wall is forgotten, let alone the nuclear missile sitting in its silo and the fate of a city. All that exists in the universe is you and the beautiful Frenchwoman on her knees before you. You can feel your balls tingling, tightening in her grasp as you close in on your climax. You increase your pace, frantically thrusting into her mouth, saliva trickling down her chin and her own muffled moans of pleasure joining yours as her hand frantically works at her clit. You grit your teeth as you feel yourself reach the point of no return, your whole body tensing up before your balls twitch powerfully, pumping their contents up your length to erupt in Bérénice’s throat. You roar with pleasure as your cock pulses again and again. Her eyes are fixed on yours as she eagerly swallows your load before they roll back in her head as she reaches her own climax. She moans around your erupting cock, her whole body shuddering as a second powerful orgasm rips through her. Still grasping a handful of hair, you pull her head back so that the tip hovers between her open lips, watching enthralled as the last few spurts splash across her tongue. She eagerly gulps it down, trembling as the aftershocks of her climax surge through her. Breathing heavily, your heart still thumping in your chest, you release your hold on her hair and take an unsteady step backwards.

  “Magnifique.” Bérénice sighs, her chest heaving as she recovers from her own climax. You smile weakly before your blood runs cold as you glance at the timer on the wall. 00:29.

  “The missile.” You shout, pulling Bérénice to her feet. “Cancel the launch!” She indignantly twists out of your grasp and gazes at the controls in front of her.

  “Now which one was it?” She muses, chewing her lower lip, her eyes flicking mischievously in your direct
ion. 00:12

  “Just. Cancel. The. Launch.” You growl. She narrows her eyes at you before nonchalantly leaning forward and pressing a button at the top of the panel. The timer freezes at 00:02 and you breathe a deep sigh of relief.

  “Happy?” She pouts.

  “Ecstatic.” You smile, quickly pulling on your clothes, while Bérénice straightens her dress and runs her fingers through her dishevelled hair. You wrench a fire extinguisher from the wall and swing it into each control panel, the heavy cylinder crashing into the array of buttons and dials. The metallic thuds echo around the room until every single control station is smashed. With a grim smile of satisfaction you drop the cylinder and turn to Bérénice.

  “Now, let’s finish this.” You tell her, striding from the control room.

  Continue

  “Which is the quickest way to the surface?” You ask Bérénice as you hurry along a corridor.

  “There is an elevator nearby.” She tells you, leading the way. “It will take us up to a helipad on the surface.”

  You follow her down the corridor to the polished bronze doors of a cylindrical lift. The doors part and you step inside, the glass walls revealing the rough-hewn sides of the lift shaft bored through the rock. The lift accelerates smoothly upwards until the rock gives way to glass and a beautiful view over the azure waters of the Caribbean Sea. The car slows as it passes through the thick floor of the suspended helipad and the doors part. Kruger’s helicopter is just before you, the rotors already spinning up to speed. Kruger emerges from a staircase to one side of the helipad and hurries towards the open door of the helicopter, his jaw clenched and his eyebrows knitted. You smile grimly. His morning has not gone to plan. He glances in your direction and his eyes widen.

  “You!” He snarls, his deep-set eyes flashing with anger. Before you can react, he has pulled a gun and is bringing it to bear on you.

  Duck back inside the lift

  Drag Bérénice down to the floor

  “Down!” You yell, pulling Bérénice to the helipad deck as a hail of bullets pass overhead, pinging against the lift behind you and shattering the glazed car walls. The gun clicks empty and you quickly scramble back to your feet, throwing yourself into Kruger. The impact knocks him to the floor and the gun slips from his fingers, sliding away from you as you grapple with the big South African. Despite having sacrificed a career in rugby, Kruger has kept his physique, fitness and strength intact and you struggle against his superior bulk and power.

  “I’m going to rip your head off.” He snarls, his deep-set eyes gleaming with malice. “And once you lie dead at my feet, I’m going to kill the French whore.” His hands tighten around your throat, his thumbs digging into your windpipe, crushing it. “But it won’t be a quick death, I promise you. She will suffer greatly for her betrayal.” You smash your fists into Kruger’s head, panic threatening to overwhelm you as your lungs desperately try to draw air through your blocked airway. Kruger doesn’t even flinch as you rain blows on him and your vision begins to darken as you begin to succumb. A close range gunshot booms out, making your ears ring. Kruger eyes widen in surprise and his mouth drops open, blood trickling from his lips before his eyes roll back in his head and his grip relaxes around your neck. You throw him off you and clamber back to your feet, gasping for air and massaging your bruised throat. Bérénice stands before you, a smoking pistol in her hand. Her eyes are wide and the gun drops from her fingers, clattering onto the helipad deck. You take her into your arms and she softly sobs into your shoulder.

  “It’s over.” You soothe. “The bastard is dead.” Kruger’s helicopter pilot has obviously seen enough and you hear the rotors beat faster as it rises up into the air and tilts forward, heading swiftly away from the island.

  Moments later, an American Black Hawk helicopter sweeps into view, circling the helipad for a moment before setting down before you. Marines pour from the door and quickly secure the helipad. One approaches you, carrying himself with confident authority. You notice three stripes on his arm.

  “Mr Hazard I presume?” The marine sergeant asks. You nod. “Good work here today sir.” He grins. “On behalf of the US President and the American people, you have our gratitude.” His eyes flick from you to Kruger’s corpse before settling on Bérénice. He gazes quizzically at her for a moment, perhaps trying to reconcile her tearstained face and elegantly dressed appearance with the carnage around her.

  “Ma’am.” He finally nods before following his men into the lift, their feet crunching on the shattered glass. As the lift doors close and the lift descends back into the facility, Bérénice glances up at you, her hazel eyes large and fearful.

  “What will become of me?” She asks.

  “I would expect you will have some tough questions to answer.” You tell her truthfully. “They may be lenient given what you have done today, though equally they may consider you an accessory. You may well be looking at a little prison time.”

  “No.” She murmurs, her eyes moistening.

  “Unless…” You smile. Her eyes meet yours. “The next island in the archipelago doesn’t have an extradition agreement with the US, the UK, South Africa or France. An intelligent and resourceful woman might borrow one of Kruger’s speedboats and head there. I’m sure if she was quick, she would be able to siphon off a significant amount of cash into her account before Kruger’s accounts are frozen. She might be able to live comfortably on the island for years if need be…” She nods and wipes the tears from her eyes before leaning forward and kissing you tenderly.

  “Merci.” She tells you gratefully before turning and crossing the helipad towards a steel staircase down to the ground. She glances over her shoulder and flashes you a smile. “Au revoir Monsieur Hazard.” She adds before her feet clank on the steps and she disappears from view.

  “Au revoir.” You murmur, smiling to yourself.

  THE END

  You dive back inside the lift, gunshots ringing out and the glass wall of the lift car shattering behind you as bullets smash through it. You press yourself inside the frame of the door before listening until the gun clicks empty. You then launch yourself out of the lift car, barely registering Bérénice’s prone form as you sprint towards Kruger and throw yourself at him. Your body slams into his and the gun slips from his grasp, skittering away beneath the helicopter. The big South African may have sacrificed a career in Rugby, but still has the physique of a player, recovering from the crunching impact quickly and throwing you down to the ground. You wince as your body smashes into the hard helipad decking before gasping in pain as he follows up with a powerful kick to your stomach.

  “You disrupt my plans and fuck my woman?!” Kruger snarls down at you. “I’m going to enjoy watching you die Mr Hazard.” He raises his foot and prepares to stamp down on your face.

  Grasp his leg and pull him off balance

  Roll out from under him and get back to your feet

  You roll away from the blow, Kruger’s foot stamping down next to your head. You quickly and agilely bounce back to your feet and smash your fist into his face, his head rocking back. He roars in pain, clutching his broken nose as a torrent of blood spills from his nostrils. He swings a return blow and you manage to partly parry it. The crunching impact still makes you see stars and you duck his next blow before smashing an uppercut into his chin. You continue to trade blows, ducking and weaving to avoid most of his, though you are slowly backed towards the edge of the helipad and a sheer drop of a hundred feet onto the rocks below. Kruger flashes you a bloody smile as he manoeuvres you closer. You reflect grimly that you could add boxing to the list of his talents along with rugby, business and megalomania.

  “Time to die, Mr Hazard.” He tells you as he backs you to the very edge.

  Sidestep out of the way and use his own strength against him, dragging him over the edge

  Duck beneath his swing and hope his momentum takes him over instead

  He draws back his arm to deliver the final blow and as he swings,
you duck beneath it. His momentum makes him step forward and into you, overbalancing as his centre of gravity takes him over you. His screams of terror fill the air as he plummets headfirst down from the helipad, the shrill sound abruptly silenced with a dull thud as his body smashes into the rocks below. You get back to your feet and gaze grimly over the edge, his body broken far below and the rocks around him wet with his blood.

  “The bigger they are, the harder they fall.” You murmur before turning away and glancing at Kruger’s helicopter. The pilot’s eyes widen and the beating of the rotors increases as the bulky machine rises up and swiftly departs. You move quickly towards the prone figure of Bérénice. You roll her onto her back, her blue dress soaked in blood, her face deathly pale.

  “You’re going to be okay.” You tell her, trying to force some sincerity into your voice. She smiles weakly up at you, knowing it is a lie.

  “Kruger?” She asks.

  “Dead.” You tell her.

  “Good.” She replies before the light goes out in her eyes and her body goes limp. You reach down and gently close her eyes before leaning forward and kissing her tenderly on the forehead. While she was no angel, she did redeem herself by helping you to stop the missile launch. You get back to your feet, trying to ignore the guilt gnawing at your soul, knowing that you failed to protect her from Kruger’s wrath.

  Minutes later, an American Black Hawk helicopter sweeps into view, circling the helipad for a moment before setting down before you. Marines pour from the door and having secured the helipad, slap your back and shake you warmly by the hand. You smile and nod your acknowledgement at their congratulations, but the victory has come at a cost. You glance at Bérénice’s corpse and wonder if you could have done things differently. Whether you could have saved her and Anya too for that matter…

 

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