The Hottest Fire

Chapter 12. EPILOGUE

Six Months Later . . .

Ludlow looked up from where he was reading the evening paper by the fireplace. The ubiquitous Gabrielle stood demurely in the doorway, announcing her presence with a small clearing of the throat. The young woman wore her customary outfit; black fishnet body stocking, black patent leather stiletto-ed heels, and a choker of black velvet ribbon tied tight about her neck that featured a cameo brooch. She nothing else save for the frilly white apron that barely covered her front. Her honey-coloured hair was tied up into a tight bun, held in place with a tiny little white lace maid’s bonnet that featured a narrow black ribbon tied in a bow.

“Ah, what is it, Gabrielle?” he asked, tapping the ash from his cigar into the hearth. As usual, Ludlow found it all but impossible to keep his eye from travelling over the young woman’s near perfect form. The miniscule apron served for hardly any purpose but to emphasize her assets; from the rounded tops of her full breasts to the generous curves of her hips to her long, magnificent legs that seemed just made to wrap about a man’s midsection. It occurred to him that if not for the immodest cover that the tiny apron provided, the beautiful young lady might as well be stark naked.

“The

Monsieur

Smith has arrived,

monsieur

,” Gabrielle said simply.

“Ah, yes, show him in, show him in,” Ludlow replied.

Ludlow got out of his chair, ran his hands down the front of his smoking jacket and looked in the mirror above the fireplace to straighten his tie – it was the regimental colours of his old outfit:

le 13eme Demi-Brigade des Parachutistes, la Legion Etranger

; the French Foreign Legion.

The man who walked into the front parlour looked an awful sight, even to his experience eye. Filthy and unshaven, Ludlow had to credit him for his unkempt clothing. He truly looked the part of a piece of human flotsam. Ludlow involuntarily wrinkled his nose at the man’s stench. It wasn’t simply that he stank; Smith smelled like a Bosnian refugee camp in the summertime. Ludlow suspected he’d slept in those clothes for a month.

“Good God, Harrington, you look a sight!” he exclaimed. “Let’s get a brandy into you, eh?”

“Thank you, Sir J.”

Ludlow poured a generous measure of brandy into a snifter and handed it to Harrington, then lifted his own glass. “To absent comrades.”

“Absent comrades.” The seasoned operator downed the liquor in a single draught, breathing a satisfied “ . . . aaah!” Ludlow appreciated what Harrington was now going through; the near total state of exhaustion at the completion of a rigorous mission, the feeling of utter relief at having survived, having made it to sanctuary.

“Very well, now then, Gabrielle will show you to a wash before we get down to your debrief.” The girl in the French maid costume appeared at the sound of her voice, indicated for the new man to follow her down the hall. For perhaps the millionth time Ludlow appreciated the rear view of Gabrielle’s fabulous body; how the round cheeks of her naked ass undulated beneath the tantalizing fishnets as she walked.

While Harrington bathed Ludlow prepared for the debrief. The man looked a damn sight better when he returned; he seemed to be positively glowing. Funny what a shave and one of Gabrielle’s little ‘treatments’ could do for a man. “Now then, let’s get down to it, shall we?”

* * *

At the conclusion of Harrington’s debrief Ludlow announced, “Now I’d like to take the opportunity to introduce you to one of our newest operators.”

Harrington arched an eyebrow.

Ludlow went on, “I’d like to take this opportunity to introduce you to Miss Barbara.”

As accustomed as he was to seeing Barbara nude, when she entered the room Ludlow swore once more she was the most beautiful woman in the world. Apart from her shoulder length blonde hair and blue-tinted wire-framed granny glasses, Barbara wore nothing but a sheer shirt-like garment that was made of totally transparent fabric.

“Hello, Mr. Harrington,” she said sweetly voice that tinkled like a bell. “Sir J told me you’ve just completed a hard assignment.” She seemed perfectly comfortable to allow all present to inspect her practically naked body. Her full breasts jutted out, pink nipples poked through thin cloth, stiffened by exposure to the air. Her blonde pubic hair was close cropped and shaven into a tiny Isosceles triangle; the slit of her bald pussy quite visible below. For the millionth time, Ludlow was filled with love and admiration for her. Not only had Barbara completed her training with flying colours, she proved to be cool under fire like he suspected she would, and accepted the most arduous of duties as a challenge; all traits of a brilliant operator.

Ludlow spoke up. “Uh, Barbara, perhaps you could escort our man Harrington to the, uh,

decompression chamber

.” This last said with a slight wink and a nod. Assisting a fellow operator in a little post-mission ‘stress-relief’ was a time-honoured ritual within the Organization. As a newly graduated field agent, it was considered a privilege for Barbara to perform this traditional duty.

Barbara’s reply was a smile as she took the new man’s hand. She paused at the door where Gabrielle still stood, apparently awaiting further instructions, and whispered something in the maid’s ear that caused the young woman’s eyes to go wide. Gabrielle looked directly at Ludlow’s crotch; in the presence of all this near-naked female flesh he had become quite stiff in his trousers, and already sported quite a tent beneath his silken smoking jacket.

Gabrielle wordlessly went to her knees before him and obediently opened the front of his clothing, releasing his straining erection from its previous confines. Forming an ‘O’ with her forefinger and thumb, she gently stroked him into her parted lips. Ludlow’s eyes narrowed into slits as her hot, wet mouth engulfed his rock hard cock.

Barbara glanced over her shoulder at Ludlow as she departed the room. She gave him a wink that spoke volumes, then pointing first to her face and back at Ludlow, she wordlessly mouthed the words:

I-LOVE-YOU.

THE END

Author’s Comment: It’s exciting to receive your comments regarding THE HOTTEST FIRE. I appreciate all of your input; indeed this is what I sought when I presented my work on Literotica. Please note, this story was never intended to be anything but a work of pure erotic fiction of the most fantastic variety. Because I’m a long-time fan of the spy thriller genre, I thought it might be amusing to create an erotic tale based on a ‘secret agent’ plot line, and the violence suggested in Chapter One is merely a foil to support this theme. I hope reading this story was as fun and entertaining for you as writing it was for me.

- Velvet Hammer