Beowulf

Edited by Angel Love

That Lindelle Gerhart had been in the service for the CIA for more than nine years made the Director anxious to employ her skills in what might be known as one of the most difficult assignments the department would ever appoint. She was good, reliable, beautiful, intriguing, and well known for her ability to bend the rules when appropriate. The Director called the Supervisor, briefed him on the new assignment, and told him emphatically that Lindelle, code name Auburn Angel, was the best agent for the job.

Later, when Auburn Angel stepped into the Supervisor's office, she headed directly for the plush, leather chair located directly in front of his executive size desk. She knew well the Supervisor's inability to be cordial so she seated herself and waited.

The Supervisor stared out the floor to ceiling window with his back to the agent. It was his game and she knew it well. He would make his agents think he was deep in thought, possibly over a tough assignment yet in truth; he merely used the silence to weaken the agents into some admiration of the highest order. Of course, none fell for it but he never realized it.

Angel glanced at her watch then lifted her eyes to receive a sudden shock. The Supervisor's cold, emotionless face stared annoyingly over the desk, directly into her gaze. She smiled slightly and nodded her head as if to tell him she was ready for his instructions. But he didn't say a word nor did he give her any greeting whatsoever that might cause her to think he'd lost his power over her.

When he finally spoke, he muttered, "Angel. The Director wants you to retrieve an agent whose cover has been blown."

"Why me?" she asked returning his cold stare.

The Supervisor didn't answer; another trick he often played to keep the advantage on his side of the court.

"Fly to London," he said while he stared in absolute assured that he'd won his little game.

"And do what?" she inquired. "An agent? What agent? Do what?"

Immediately, his eyes narrowed like he was about to explode in anger. His face showed redness but she'd seen this tactical maneuver before and stood to counter the move.

"Sit down, Auburn Angel," he demanded.

"And for what?" she asked with an air of defiance.

Caught off guard by her tone, he stood and faced her squarely. The Director was correct in that she was indeed a beautiful woman. As to who would lose this battle of wills, he also knew that she would give in once he gave her the agent's code name. He would but he waited for a long moment before doing so. Angel knew that for him to open up with information of any kind, she'd have to give in, sit down, and put a smile back on her face, albeit fake.

So she did and when she appeased the strange, cold man, she noticed his eyes soften at her smile. Finally, he briefed her on the mission.

"In London, you'll meet him. His identity will be fully revealed in a secret place."

Angel nodded as if she thoroughly understood her mission but in truth, she wondered what the name of the pub might be. After all, pubs in England were more numerous than the stars in the heavens. How she might get this info from the Super was anyone's guess. She'd never managed to pry it from his lips before, so she sat as patiently as she could and waited.

After an eternity of silence, the Supervisor muttered one more bit of information, "Beowulf."

"Beo what? That's his code name?" the pretty agent said in reply.

"Leave Philadelphia tonight," he said then gestured for the agent to depart.

At her condo, Angel packed appropriate attire for the trip. It would be early summer in London with little rain in the forecast. She would go as a tourist, camera and all, to London then Cambridge looking like the typical Yank from the States. Since this was the usual fair for agents on such an assignment, she checked the exchange rate on the internet, finished packing her bag and relaxed till the airport shuttle honked its horn, signaling its arrival in the parking lot.

"Too bad I can't take the Jag over there!" she said as she closed and locked her door.

At the airport, she boarded British Airways to London, Heathrow. The flight would take a little more than nine hours so she adjusted her watch to London time. Then she settled back and began to read her book. Engrossing herself in the furst chapter, she barely noticed the passenger who sat next to her in the wide furst class seat. If she thought about it at all, she'd have known that the Director had granted her this privilege over the Supervisor's budgeted reluctance.

When Auburn Angel shifted herself to relax more in her seat, the man next to her extended his right-hand to introduce himself.

"Ben Riggs!" he said to her in his friendly Brit manner.

Angel laid the book in her lap, cocked her head to the right, and replied, "Nice to meet you, Ben! My name is Lucinda Fredricks!"

Shaking her hand he quickly noticed the softness of her fingers and palm. His eyes feasted on her beautiful, smiling eyes and warm countenance. Her Auburn hair was exquisitely cut in such a fashion that he found himself without words to describe it. Unlike other beautiful women, the Auburn hue somehow told volumes about her character and heart.

"Ah!" he said graciously. "Of German Descent, I'd say!"

"Hmm, well, more Pennsylvania Dutch, at least that was my parent's background." When Ben released her hand, she said, "And you sound like a Brit! I love the accent."

Ben looked to be in his early to mid fifties, a well-dressed man, conservative to Angel's suspicion. He, too, had a book he opened so she decided to engage him no further. The flight attendants chattered through their usual routine of safety messages then the plane lifted off the runway on its course over the Atlantic. Though she didn't know for sure, she sensed that he was watching, admiring, maybe lusting after her. Whether true, or not, the thought did warm her to pursue some of her own fantasy speculations.

Later when the inhabitants of furst class had finished their supper, Ben started to dialog with the pretty agent who had shapely legs. Having no idea of her employment, he decided to inform her of his in hopes that this lovely lady might reciprocate.

"I am a photographer for a company in London," he said as if he was answering her question. "I spend many days jaunting about Europe, the States, and sometimes South America doing photo shoots for celebrities."

"Oh! That sounds interesting!" she said. "Lucinda, my dear!" he said. "It's lucrative, sound, and rather posh, I'd say!"

She smiled in response at his words. He couldn't help but notice Lucinda's eyes as they smiled in sync with her lips.

"And you, my dear, are very photogenic!" Ben said in complementary fashion. "Maybe you would pose for one pic?"

Caught off guard by his British charm, she nodded affurmatively but wondered if he would stop at just one picture. Indeed, she wouldn't want him to stop at a single snapshot. But then she suddenly realized that her own cover might be blown by such an event so she played it down as he suggested locations like the Tower of London, Big Ben, even outside King's Chapel in Cambridge. Before long, she managed to maneuver the subject to the book he had in his lap, a spy thriller or so the title suggested.

Pretty Auburn Angel, eventually tired from her conversation with Ben only because the hour was late. Her heart warmed completely over the intercourse of dialog with such a charming man. As she closed her eyes and attempted to sleep, she pondered what it might be like to pose for him, smile for him, captivate his camera's gaze, and even offer some naughty pics to boot. She knew, however, deep down that her new acquaintance would never see her, could never see her again for CIA reasons. Such was the life of an agent.

Hours later when the plane landed, she found herself focusing on her mission in spite of Ben's suggestion that the two of them might hit a pub near the airport. His insistence annoyed her a little but she chalked it up to her Auburn hair, a feature she sported well that had brought many men to their knees in worshipful respect. Ben's overly attentive stares did cause Lucinda to feel warmth throughout her body, particularly between her shapely legs.

"Crud!" she thought. "If I weren't on a mission, I'd join him, drink some wine while he sipped his English Ale, and maybe even go to!" Suddenly her pondering heart was brought back to reality as she along with hundreds of others had to deplane.

"Whatever it is you do, my dear, please consider giving me a ring!" he said as he handed her his business card.

Ben stepped into the aisle. For one last moment, she caught sight of him, taking notice of what she deemed to be the hottest male butt she'd ever seen.

"Tight! Perfect!" she lustfully pondered as the portrait of him lying between her legs, formed clearly in her womanly mind.

The beautiful American agent gathered her carry-on and followed suit but before she reached the end of the jet way, she caught the glaring eyes of a man. Dressed in the uniform of airport security, he motioned to Angel to follow him to a back room where he seated her at a small desk. She thought it odd but knew so little of her mission that she went along as if his questioning spirit was all part of the game, the CIA spy game.

"And why are you here, Miss?" he inquired in a searching for information tone. "How long will you be here and where will you travel?"

As briefed, she handed him her passport, that of Lucinda Fredrick's, an American visitor who was there to see the sites. She did tell the officer that part of her travel would be to Cambridge to visit with an old college friend. He nodded in respect but said little to assure her that he believed her.

"Miss Fredrick's," he said as he stared at her. "You work for whom?"

"Back in the States, I work as a librarian in Germantown Pennsylvania. An assistant at this point but hope to be promoted soon to Head!" she said with a smile.

He cautiously gazed into her eyes and noticed her beauty, her charm, and especially her inviting breasts that her clinging top accentuated. Indeed, Angel was well endowed, not to mention her legs, those shapely legs that so many men longed for. His stare felt typical but a little unnerving.

Attempting to move the inquisition along, she said, "And is there anything else I can answer for you?"

The guard didn't answer right away but handed her the passport, stamped with England's approval of her visit. He led her back to the main thoroughfare of talking airport visitors and let her go. She headed for the baggage claim area but as she approached, she found herself in line with others from her overseas flight. Each one had to show his or her papers or passport which confused the agent a little since she'd already been pulled from the line by a security man who had never identified himself. He hadn't worn a name tag either which caused a measure of suspicion for the highly trained Angel.

After clearing the checkpoint, Angel glanced about her to see if she was headed toward the baggage claim. In minutes, she had retrieved her single bag and hailed a cab to deliver her to that day's lodging. As directed, she would receive instructions for the rest of her mission to meet and bring back safely, the agent known as Beowulf. And in her hotel room, she immediately found a note pinned to the pillow of her spacious bed.

It read as follows, "Take the tour bus outside the hotel to Cambridge Commons. Meet your friend inside the west end of the station. She will find you. Signed, Doty"

"Doty?" Angel said softly. "Who in the world is that?"

The agent opened her suitcase and took out only the items she needed to refresh herself. She sat on the bedside then laid down to catch a nap from the jetlag she experienced. But as she did, she pulled from her bag her trusted friend, code name Ribbed Rocket. Giggling, she then removed her clothes and spread her delicious body over the waiting mattress for some thrills of her own making.

When she relaxed and closed her eyes, she pictured Ben in bed with her. His tall frame lay beside her, naked, and sporting a rather lengthy, British cock. His balls were fully covered by pubic fur much like the thick, mat of auburn pussy hair that she was stroking with her fingers. She imagined him running his fingers lightly into her forest of Pennsylvania Dutch delight and it pleased her to no end. The caresses were gentle, purposeful, and so deliberate as if he'd done this to her already knowing her favorite erotic places.

As her fantasy developed, she felt the eight-inch rod of his now furm shaft press against her hip. The sensation sent tingling waves of pleasure up her body to her C-cup breasts where she played deliberately with her hard, pink nipples. Slight moans of delight filled the air and she knew well how much Ben would crave her after hearing her sensuous moans.

"You are so beautiful!" Ben said in lustful, passionate sound. "Your skin, your softness, the taste of womanhood on your lips!"

In response, Angel pinched lightly the pink rosebud nipples that stood aching to be touched. She imagined Ben kissing her forehead lightly, moving down her face in alternating kisses and gentle licks till he buried his sucking mouth into the soft flesh of her neck. Her breathing deepened at his touch. He caressed her shoulders passionately then moved his kissing lips in between her luscious breasts.

At his move, she let out a moan of intense pleasure, one she was certain that her next door neighbors could have heard and understood for what it was. Ben's hands then cupped her gorgeous breasts. He allowed her legs to part in anticipation of his entrance only to lie down on top of Lucinda's deliciously, sexy body.

"Oh do me Ben, please!" she said in a quivering begging tone. "Fill my Dutch pussy with Brit cock!"

As Ben posed the head of his now throbbing rod at the creamy folds of her pussy, she switched on the vibrating action of her favorite dildo. The ribs she'd grown so accustomed to, buzzed into life as she pushed its length deep inside. When the ribbed portion strafed her cuntal flower, she groaned deeply.

"Yes, yes, yes, Oooooooh!" she cried out as Ben's long dick penetrated her furry mound.

Then she wrapped her legs around him and surrendered herself to his pumping actions. In, out, in, out, in and out, he plunged his cock till she felt the familiar throb of a ready to explode rod. Her own passions had also built to the point of no return so she exploded seconds later. Spurt after spurt of hot cum shot inside her hungry pussy lair till her lover fell spent between her legs. When she came off her thrilling high, she relaxed her legs but kept them spread wide apart as if he'd just pulled out to stare at her fully engorged flower.

As the dildo whirred its buzzing actions, she waited patiently for yet another orgasm. This one she would experience alone for it was her absolute favorite of all orgasms.

"Second one is the cha-a-a-a-a-arm!" Angel cried as a climactic wave of pleasure climbed her body.

Convulsing at her thrill, the agent's legs writhed in anticipation of yet a third pleasurable dessert. She pumped the rod in and out of her gripping cuntal lips till she knew it was waiting to take her. And as it did, her butt pressed deeply into the mattress beneath causing her heels to dig in hard. Bracing herself for the next ride, she pinched her nipples hard, then screamed out her thrills till she could cum no more. Her body jerked in response, her sopping pussy squirted its flow onto the hand that guided the pumping shaft and when she had given her last, she fell silent in relief to the bed.

"Did you like it Ben?" luscious Angel asked softly. "I did it for you honey, for a pic!"

Moments later, she pulled the ribbed lover from her gaping pussy to lick its juicy flow. It was sweet to the taste; she knew it would be, for it was her cuntal wetness, the perfume of her love. Then she lowered it to lay it between her breasts to enjoy the final pleasures. There, she pictured Ben towering over her well-pumped body. His smile, his eyes, and his nodding in approval head was certainly staring down at her like he had done on the plane earlier. Opening her eyes, Angel pondered if this might be the pic he wanted. Then she giggled at the thought of such a view.

"And he will never view it!" she sighed in disappointment.

The next morning, Auburn Angel boarded the tour bus that would deliver her to the Cambridge station. There, she walked quickly to the west end and waited alone for her friend, Betty. Sitting on the long bench, she wondered how in the world she would ever meet the agent Beowulf. But as she gave up her mental quest of her vague briefing from the Supervisor, she heard the phone near the bench ring. The sound startled her and she jumped in response. Oddly enough, nobody had told her to answer it but it repeatedly rang till it became annoying.

Angel's watching eyes darted about the station wing trying to discern who might be watching. She noticed an attendant at the far end glancing occasionally in her direction. He seemed friendly but her gut instinct told her to be careful, especially if he moved her way. Then standing, she reached to answer the phone.

"My dear Lucinda!" the voice on the phone said. "It's Betty indeed!" the voice sounded as if she or he, Lucinda wasn't sure, had just laid eyes on an old friend.

Lucinda answered in sheer delight as directed so any nearby listeners would not be suspicious. The voice sounded strangely like a man imitating a woman. Since the agent had so little to go on, she played along. The watching attendant also glanced her way as she chattered aimlessly into the phone. Then he began to move her way as she hung the phone on its rest. Immediately Lucinda, agent Auburn Angel, went into caution mode for she could see that he had a jacket draped over his right forearm and hand.

He walked deliberately but glanced left then right as if evaluating whether he might also be under surveillance. Then without warning, he extended his hand from underneath the jacket covering. Angel's eyes immediately discerned the nozzle of a small gun aimed in her direction. She dropped and dove behind the bag and the bench where she had been waiting for her contact just as the sound of a silencer blasted three shots in her direction. Since she wasn't wearing a furearm, she had no choice but to lie still as if she had been hit.

Just as quickly as she heard the gun's bullets zoom over head, she detected another sound as a man took a bullet. From her position, she couldn't tell who was hit but in seconds she heard footsteps running toward her. Her heart rate soared as she felt defenseless to whomever pursued her.

As the sound of running boots neared her, the agent suddenly heard a porter call out, "Are you hit?"

Instinctively, she raised her head and stared toward the man whose voice she heard, then she replied, "I'm fine, I'm not hit!"

The porter helped her to her feet and back on the bench. He held Lucinda's hand tightly to calm her, never realizing her trained instincts were already keeping her from doing what most people would do in hysteria. To her left, she saw the attendant's body lying in a pool of blood, not more than eight feet from her.

"Are you sure you're all right, Ma'am?" the porter asked again. "That man pulled a gun and tried to kill you! Security saw him and shot him furst!"

Breathing in response to his explanation, Lucinda nodded yes and attempted to keep up her act till it was appropriate to relax. The porter knew nothing of the agent's CIA status but eventually led her to a safer area well past the dead body of the station attendant. Then he hailed a cab and escorted Lucinda into the back seat. After closing the door the porter smiled and walked away leaving Lucinda to ponder the last fifteen-minutes worth of action. As the car pulled away, the cab driver lifted his radio and began to talk.