Note- I do not own the rights to James Bond 007, neither the movies nor the novels. This is a parody intended for fun only.
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Dedicated to Karen Dor from You Only Live Twice, another Bond girl gone too soon, RIP.
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Amsterdam, 1971.
James Bond didn't know an awful lot about diamonds except they were a girl's best friend. On a mission as secret agent 007, the double O prefix issued by British Secret Service for a licence to kill, he had arrived in Amsterdam. Tasked with investigating the diamond pipeline he called on a T. Case.
Huge quantities of diamonds from South Africa were being stolen and apparently stockpiled, and Bond had assumed the identity of a professional smuggler Peter Franks. The criminal had been detained at Customs and Immigration while he had been en route.
He arrived at the red brick four flight midtown apartment building and was let in by a female. When he entered the two room apartment he glimpsed a tall woman in high heels and bra and panties. A long length of strawberry blonde hair in a loose ponytail fell behind her back to the base of her spine as she vanished into her boudoir.
Bond looked smart in his two piece dark suit with white shirt and blue necktie. He waited in the main room unsure of the identity of the woman.
"Is Mister Case not at home?" He asked.
"There is no Mister Case, the T is for Tiffany, help yourself to a drink."
The high lilted voice had an American accent.
"Tiffany Case?" He poured himself a double Scotch from the assortment of drinks on a table by the window.
"I was born there, on the first floor, while my mother was looking for a wedding ring."
Bond took a generous sip of his drink and turned to face the owner of the voice. He was pleasantly surprised to be face to face with a young woman with mid length chocolate brown hair in tight side swept curls.
Only wearing green micro underwear on satin, she was attractive with an exquisite hourglass shaped figure. She looked to be about 120 pounds, and nearly six feet in the heels. Her firm breasts were close to spilling out of her skimpy bra as she tottered over on her five inch gold stilettos.
"Weren't you a blonde when I arrived?"
The woman gave him a wry smile, big brown eyes with wide lashes met his.
"I tend to notice things like that, whether a girl is a blonde or a brunette."
She stood by him, in her heels she nearly came up to his height. He took a deep whiff of her scent as she took his drink from his hand.
"And which do you prefer?"
"Not too fussy, providing the collars and cuffs match."
"Stay there, I'll get you some ice."
The brunette turned to walk back to her bedroom, her ass swished from left to right, two tiny dimples atop her firm buttocks.
When she re emerged with his glass he saw she had slipped on a lace trimmed mini lounge robe tied with a single belt at the waist.
"That's a nice little nothing you're almost wearing."
"Yeah, yeah, show me your passport."
He slipped a hand in his breast pocket and showed her his British passport. She studied it and then handed it back.
"Let me finish dressing."
"Oh, please don't, not on my account."
She looked into his dark eyes and scrutinised his physique. He filled out his suit with broad shoulders and strong arms. Neatly shaven and coiffured, he watched her leave him alone again.
She returned to the main room once more and the secret agent pulled a face. Dressed in a floor length black gown with long sleeves, she had now changed to having bright red hair with a short, layered tousled look. Around her neck was a wide black choker that settled down an exceptionally deep plunging neckline that did not spare the blushes.
"I don't care much for redheads, terrible tempers."
Bond had reason to dislike women with red hair and he was reminded of two particular female SPECTRE agents whose paths he had crossed.
"It's my own."
She spread her hands and went to the drinks table. As she outlined the plan to smuggle 50,000 carats of diamonds 007 listened intently, although one eye was on her splendid crossed legs as she relaxed on her sofa. Bond suggested dinner but the brown eyed beauty told him intimacy was out of the question until after the diamonds had been shipped to America.
Later after leaving, Bond has learned the real Franks had escaped custody and in a dramatic fist fight in the apartment building of Tiffany he had liquidated the smuggler. Tiffany had watched the whole thing and helped Bond drag the body inside her apartment.
"Are you hurt?" She asked looking at his face.
"Don't think so." The redhead stroked his forehead and felt a trickle of blood at his temple.
Their eyes met and for a split second the tension between them melted.
"Who is this guy?" She asked but kept her eyes on the Englishman.
"Don't know, he's been following me around all day."
Tiffany looked concerned. She has a very revealing red halter neck top which tied at the back of her neck. A blue maxi length skirt with a low waist came down to the floor.
As she caressed his head with the back of her hand he gripped her by the wrist. She looked at his hard mouth and dark eyes and rested her hands on his wide shoulders. His muscles were developed nicely as they drew closer. Bond felt his cock harden against the confines of his trousers.
"Let's go to bed." He stated simply.
The pair of them stepped into her boudoir, the room was lit low, the air fresh. The spy spoke no words as he pulled her skirt off of her legs.
Her nostrils flared as she helped him by lifting her ass and undoing her top. The big breasts rose and fell steadily as she laid on her right side. Left in her black lacy panties she watched the tall six footer remove his jacket, shirt and trousers.
"Not bad Franks, work out much?" She referred to his broad chest and sizeable biceps.
