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.
He was quite stunning, something she did not expect. His narrow waist, lean hips and strong, powerful legs.
Naked, he padded to the bed, his rigid prick upright and hard, the head large. Tiffany tugged her panties down and spread her legs wide. She began to pant when his rough hand touched her on her thighs.
He pressed his lips to the hot flesh of the inner thigh, and she felt his breath warm her skin. The redhead laid flat on her back and let the man nibble her flesh, slowly moving in towards her pussy mound. Even in the low electric light her pubes looked bright ginger, glistening slightly with her need.
"Peter, yes, just like that."
Her hips jerked as she was teased by his tongue and mouth on her soft vaginal lips. His face covered her as he licked and sucked more frantically, his throbbing cock desperate to bury itself in her softness. He flicked the delicate folds and made her groan at the welcome touch.
"Wow, so good."
Bond pushed his tongue right inside her hot tunnel and felt the woman twist and writhe on the sheets.
Bond moved up and his organ rested on her stomach as he held her in strong arms. Then he was surprised when he was rolled over so that she was on top of him. She glided to and fro along his hard body, her long legs straddling his flanks, her tits firm on his chest.
"Yes, Franks, I need you, somebody. It's been a while since I had a man."
For James Bond it had also been a long while, since Tracy in fact, his wife of one afternoon only.
They kissed, her mouth parted so she could taste his tongue. He tasted of tobacco and whisky. She tilted her head and saw his eyes turn darker.
He grabbed her buttocks and moved her to his aching cock. With a twist and an imperceptible shift he entered her wet cunt, inch by slow inch.
Tiffany sighed, he was delicious, huge and hard. They linked hands as she reared up and let her quim fully take him inside. She moved up and down at the pace she set, not rushed but assured, her tight ass bunched behind her.
Bond squirmed with a desire to move up a gear. His tightened his fingers on hers and bent his legs at the knee, supporting her weight on his thighs. Tiffany breathed hard, riding the stiff cock with a faster rate, her eyes closed to savour the wonderful sensation.
She hadn't fucked a bigger man than he for a long time. Bond held her boobs in his hands, squeezing the nipples as he massaged them. He was surprised at how wet she was around his manhood.
"You're quite hot." He said.
She laughed in between strokes.
"You make me hot!"
The red haired woman started to rotate her hips and ground on his groin as she drove herself down. Her hands gripped his muscular thighs as she plunged up and down, splitting the folds of her cunt.
Then it was her turn to be taken by surprise as 007 spun her over and settled his weight on top of her. In the switch of position, his knob slipped from her slippery slit, and he held her by the waist as he sank up her. One smooth, yet firm shove and he was balls deep inside.
Now in control the secret agent tightened all the muscles in his butt and legs and banged the living daylights out of the helpless woman. The bed creaked and shook under his thunderous thrusting, his powerful strokes becoming ever more urgent.
"Yes, Peter, yes fuck me, fuck me." She intoned, her legs kicking out and up.
Her hips bounced off of the bed beneath him, as his thick cock fucked in and out of her sopping quim, the wet sleek channel devouring his every fat inch with great satisfaction. With great strength on his part he lifted her legs back to her shoulders, and rammed in hard, grinding into her yielding quim. She screamed and raked his body with fingers like claws as he skewered her body under his.
It didn't take too long before she lost all control and her release loomed.
