Following the orders of my boss, Hmm, the head of the British Secret Service, I had booked into the luxury golfing resort owned by some rich American TV personality.
In the morning I had watched as my German quarry placed a towel on a recliner by the pool. I had just finished a long drink, lying on it, when he returned.
His eyes were angry, but his voice was polite.
"Excuse me sir, but that is my place. It had my towel on it."
"So what?" I replied unconcerned. "It's bums that count."
"Indeed, they do. They count for a lot for me. In fact, few people appreciate them more than me. My name is Holefinger. Perhaps you have heard of me?"
He held up his hand with unusually long fingers.
"Sorry, no."
"Surely, Agent 006.9, your boss Hmm has briefed you better than that?"
I had disguised myself as a balding Scotsman with a toupee, and a tendency to say 's' as 'sh'. What had given me away?
Before I could answer, a big hand was placed over my mouth, and I was lifted easily off the recliner, by a massive oriental. I thought in vain of the clever gadgets in my case which had been provided by Kew. The Royal Botanic Gardens were an excellent cover for the supply of hi-tech to secret agents.
"I think you need a massage, Mr Bond. My servant Oddknob is fully qualified masseur, and will give you what you so desperately need."
I was taken back to his private suite and placed on a massage table, completely naked.
I tensed and resisted, but it was no good. All the stress was eased out of me. I was utterly relaxed and just too limp to resist. That was when I said it.
"Do you expect me to talk?"
"No, no, Mr Bond! I expect you to come!"
A man was going to toss me off!
"Not like that! Never!"
"For pity's sake!" I begged. "Let it be a woman!"
He smiled, and the door opened to reveal my boss's secretary, Miss Funnyfanny! I had fucked her so often, and laughed each time she joked we should get married. Why had she betrayed me?
"Sorry, James," she said, with a big smile. "You just wouldn't give me what I wanted. Now you're going to get what you deserve!"
While I was trying to understand this, Holefinger spoke.
"I will give you one chance, Mr Bond. If you answer the question correctly, I will let you go. What is Miss Funnyfanny's first name."
I hesitated. She must have one.
"You have fucked her, perhaps a hundred times. Yet you have never shown commitment and you have never given her an orgasm."
I couldn't suppress a chuckle.
"British women don't want orgasms!"
"Maybe, but I'm not British. I'm American -- a CIA agent!"
So that explained her spelling mistakes!
"It really saves a lot of trouble for both intelligence agencies," she added.
"Now what's my name?"
"It's a state secret," I said.
"It's on the door," she said.
I had to give up.