Cat and Mouse

Cat and Mouse

Which is the cat, and which is the mouse?

I did it because I was bored and wanted to have a little amusement. It was just because I wanted to give my brain a bit of relaxed fun. It had been a bit stressful over the last week. I had just finished the big project I had been working on, and now I was simply enjoying a bit of time off from the long hours and mind frazzling thinking. That's how I found myself here at this little bar a block from my hotel. Most of the planning and preliminary work I did was done from home. I always did the final part of each job from a hotel room. It was safer that way. Early tomorrow morning, I would simply pack up my small travel case, walk out of the hotel, and find my way to a small apartment I rented in another name. I would stay there for about a week before returning home and starting the preliminary work for my next job. Either that or take a couple months off to relax. I hadn't decided which yet.

So, that's where I found myself. Sitting alone in that small bar and minding my own business. Sure, I had scoped out everyone else there. That's only normal for someone like me. You always need to be prepared in case danger suddenly looms. I never wanted to be caught off guard. That could be disastrous. There is a very good reason for my caution. That caution was mainly centered on a table not too far away. Around the table sat four people. Three guys and a woman. The guys were all clean cut, rather fit, and carried themselves with confidence. They were dressed in Business casual.

The woman was in her early thirties, brunette, blue eyes, and also very fit. By the way the guys differed to her, I would guess that she was in charge. Just looking at them, they screamed FEDERAL AGENTS. Most likely here after work relaxing like I was doing. They all seemed to enjoy each other's company.

I slyly watched out of the corner of my eye as one of the guys got up and walked over to me.

"May I have this dance?" he asked.

OK, there was a dance floor and music playing, so it wasn't really strange. Glancing at the table, I saw the rest of the group grinning and watching. The woman had a tolerant look on her face like she was watching a younger brother doing something foolish but amusing. I thanked him for the offer, but I politely turned him down. I kept watch as he returned to the table and put up with the ribbing from the other two guys. Five minutes later, a second guy from the table tried his luck. Then the third. That's when I saw the woman dole out the three dollar bills she had been holding back to the guys. Not the first time I had seen this game played. A group of guys bets to see who can pick up the single girl. The woman then began laughing and ribbing all three guys on their lack of success.

That's when I made my decision. I was a bit bored and just wanted to have a laugh. I motioned to the bartender and gave him my request. A couple of minutes later, and I watched their server carry the drink over to the woman and place it in front of her. She looked over to me in surprise, so I lifted my glass in salute. She picked up the drink and returned the gesture. I then cocked my head in a questioning motion. She smiled, stood up and began striding towards me. That's when I got my first real good look at her. She was a bit taller than my 5'4". Even though her figure was partially hidden by the slacks and suit jacket she apparently wore for work, I could still see enough to know that she was in very good shape. I didn't even wait for her to ask. I just blurted it out before she could even begin to speak.

"I would love a dance. Thank you for asking."

I really enjoyed the shocked looks on her companions' faces as I took her hand and let her to the small dance floor. We danced to two fast songs before a slow song came on. Not wanting to end my fun, I pulled her in. I could feel her biceps, and they were a bit bigger than I would have guessed. When my hands went to her shoulders, I could feel their power as well. Fit didn't really describe it. She was built! Strong, powerful, but still feminine. Not really a butch, but just a very strong woman. I liked it. I liked it a lot. I started thinking about how much more fun this night could be.

The song ended, and she invited me to join them. I demurred. I wasn't really that keen on talking to the guys, but I would really like her to join me for a more intimate chat. She returned to their table to fetch her purse and offer a quick farewell to her companions. A moment later, she was perched on the stool beside me.

OK, so this was actually a surprise to me for several reasons. First off, I had absolutely no intention of hooking up with anyone tonight. All I had planned on was to sit and have a few quiet drinks to celebrate my success. Second, when I sent over that drink, I had assumed that she was straight. All that I had intended was to twist the guy's tails a bit for their stupid bet. Just let them know that they weren't attractive to me, but their female companion would be. Sort of a metaphorical finger in the air at them. It was just a bit of amusement for myself. Third, even though she was very attractive and pushed all the right buttons, there was practically a large red tattoo on her forehead that screamed 'FED', and I tended to stay as far away from those people as I can. Yes, there is a definite reason for that.

So, I should probably tell you a little about myself. I'm 32-years old. I'm single, by choice rather than not having options. I'm more likely to be the quiet girl sitting in the corner at the party instead of the bubbly flirt bouncing from group to group. I'm 5'4" tall, Dark Bronze hair, green eyes, and a slim build. My breasts are a nice B-cup. My slim build comes more from the fact that I get so focused on 'work' that I forget to eat. I do run about five miles a day in the mornings - at least I do unless I'm on one of my days-long coding binges. That's when I get into a groove and get lost in my work for a couple of days without a break. I survive on caffeine and junk food until I literally pass out from exhaustion or complete what I am doing. No, I am not a Butter Face. I have been told multiple times that I have a very pretty face. The fact that I am hit on whenever I am out in public sort of reinforces that opinion. Still, I prefer not to have relationships. I have my reasons. Oh, and in case you haven't figured it out, I am a confirmed lesbian.

"Sarah Adams." She said in introduction.

"Julia James." I replied.

We sat and talked through a couple of drinks. All she told me about her job was that she worked for a federal agency. She was off work right now, so she preferred not talking about her job. I informed her that I was a private consultant in network security. That was basically true. I work for myself, and my work does entail dealing with network security systems. I was really getting a rush out of this. Here I was, sitting next to an actual federal agent and flirting shamelessly with her. On top of that, it was more likely than not that we would be in bed together shortly. My panties were drenched just thinking about it. What was even better, even though she only said she worked for a federal agency, her whole vibe screamed that she was in the law enforcement side of the government. Holy shit. If she only knew.

Obviously, we did not get into deep conversations about who we were. This was a first time meet - a pick-up at a dive bar to be exact - so it was kept lite and shallow. She was in town on an assignment. I was here to finish up a project. We were both leaving tomorrow. I did happen to confirm my suspicions when she pulled out her wallet to pay her bill. I snuck a peek inside her open purse and caught a glimpse of a badge. I saw just enough of it to make out the three letters on it. FBI. 'What the fuck am I doing?' I silently asked myself. It would be fine. She has no clue who I am, and she is probably on a totally different case anyway.

"Mmmmmmhhpppphhhh," My moaning was muffled by her mouth locked to mine. Her tongue was doing a really nasty tango with mine. She was holding me pinned to the wall next to her door as one hand was under my skirt and the other fumbling for her key card. We had barely made it to her hotel room door when we pretty much attacked each other right there in the hall. She somehow, blindly, managed to use the card to unlock the door, then lifted me up and carried me inside. Our make-out session continued as we each began undoing buttons and zippers on the other's clothes. It wasn't long before our clothes were scattered on the floor, and we had tumbled onto the bed.

Yeah, foreplay is great, but this was pure animal passion. I was already drenched before leaving the bar. She had two fingers inside me as soon as I hit the bed. It didn't take long for the first orgasm to wash over me. Of course, I wasn't idle either. I had one of my hands stroking inside her as well. Her first orgasm hit seconds after mine. We broke apart, panting heavily with the exertion. It took us a couple of moments to recover.

"Wow. That was intense." I managed to get out.

"Totally." She agreed.

We laid there, side by side, for a few minutes catching our breaths. After a bit, I got my breath back and decided that I needed to taste her. Of course, you don't just dive in, first off, you need to heat up the dish. I rolled back over on top of her. I began with another round of kisses. After a couple minutes of tongue wrestling, I moved down and began nipping and kissing her ear and neck. I worked both sides, then lowered to her throat. I could hear her breathing increase and saw that her heartbeat increased in her Cortaid artery. She had magnificent breasts, so they demanded a proper worshiping. Yes, I managed to leave my mark on them. They were succulent; firm and high. I sucked and nipped on her nipples until they were hard as diamonds. I couldn't get enough of them. As I worked my lips, teeth, ad tongue on one, my fingers were molesting the other one. Back and forth I went between her twin magnificent mammaries.

Eventually, I had to surrender the high ground in order to attack my main goal. That didn't mean that I had to attack directly. I took a leisurely pace across her toned tummy, kissing and licking my way down. Eventually, I arrived at her Garden of Eden. I was mesmerized briefly. Her pussy was spectacular. She had obviously spent time in manicuring herself. Her lips were wet and distended. She had a small landing strip of hair above her clit. I could smell her musky arousal. I couldn't hold back any longer. I dove in and instantly became addicted to her ambrosia. I had to force myself to slow down. I just wanted to devour her. Instead, I decided to prolong the experience and thoroughly enjoy it. This was a new pussy to explore, and explore I did. Every nook and cranny was visited by my tongue. I learned quicky what she liked and what she loved. I found that I could make her squirm by thrusting my tongue deep inside her and wiggling it around. I found that she would cry out when I lashed her clitty with my tongue. I took a chance that she was to wound up to notice and spelled my real name with my tongue on her pussy. Hint to inexperienced pussy lickers - spell out the alphabet with your tongue. It drives women wild. Personally, I write my name to mark the pussy as mine. I also do it in cursive. Yes, I'm a dying breed that know what that is. My efforts were rewarded when I suddenly found myself holding on to a bucking bronco at the World Finals Rodeo. I don't know how long I managed to hold on, but it took a lot more than 8-seconds for her to stop bucking and turn into a quivering mass of flesh.

I laid back and was feeling rather proud of myself. OK, I know that I am good, but it usually still takes longer than the first time to figure out what really gets a new partner's motor running in high gear. There was just something about her that made us click together. No, I'm not talking about love at first sight here. Sure, I felt something pulling me towards her, but it's not like we were soul mates. Surely, that couldn't be it. After all, she was working for the FBI, and I was....... Well, not. Let's just leave it at that for now.

With the screaming orgasm I just gave her, I figured that she was down for the count. I was totally unprepared for the onslaught that suddenly happened.

"My turn." I heard stated from beside me.

Suddenly, she was back on top of me. Her hands seemed to be everywhere at once. Her lips and tongue were assaulting every sensitive part of my body. I was instantly on fire. She was strong and aggressive. Somehow, that really turned me on. I didn't have a chance. She spiked my arousal in seconds. No one had ever done that to me before. She used her magical fingers and mouth to bring me right to the edge, then backed off. Then, she did it again. And again. I was begging her to finish me. Instead, she just chuckled and rolled off the bed. I was devastated thinking that she was just going to leave me hanging. Instead, I watched her move over to her suitcase and pluck something from within. When she turned around, I saw her holding a strap-on. OK, so I've never really been much into penetration, except for the occasional vibrator. Still, when she quickly slid it of and pulled the straps tight - HO. LEE. FUC. BATMAN! There was just something about her muscular but feminine frame with that appendage sticking out that really did it for me.

Let's just get it over with here - she took me. This wasn't 'making love'. This was well and truly fucking. Yeah, I thought that I was marking her as mine. That was a fantasy. She mounted me and literally claimed me as her bitch. She rode me through three phenomenal orgasms. I would love to be able to tell you how many she had, but I have absolutely no clue. She was powerful and had stamina that seemed to last forever. I had no choice but to surrender to her will. Usually, while not necessarily being dominant, I am at least in somewhat of control during all of my previous sexual encounters. Not this time. When she finally pulled out and slipped out of the harness, I was the quivering mass of humanity. My last conscious recollection was laying on my side as she spooned up to my back and pulled the covers over us.

My eyes sprang open. I have always been one of those annoying people who wake up instantly. It is very rare that I gradually wake and am in a fog as I figure out what is going on around me. The only time that happens is after I have spent the last 48-hours on the go and pass out from shear exhaustion. This time, I was wide awake withing microseconds. The events from the previous 24-hours sprang into my mind. That was probably helped by the pair of tits pressed into my back and the arm draped over me. I have to admit, the hand cupping my tit sure did feel nice.

OK, so the morning wasn't nearly as weird as I thought it might be. It might be obvious that I really didn't make it a habit of waking up with another person. I was nowhere near a virgin, but I was always the one to sneak out in the middle of the night. My home was always my sanctuary. OK, a hotel room wasn't exactly my home, but it was still my private space. I always went to their place, then snuck out as soon as I could. Staying through the night and waking up together was just too much like a relationship and getting way too close to someone else.

OK, morning sex is pretty nice. Showering together is also something that I decided to do again - a lot. I also found out that I actually enjoy eating breakfast with another person. Maybe there really was something to this relationship shit. Too bad she was a federal agent. That really was a problem for me. Oh, don't get me wrong here. I have nothing but respect for law enforcement. I am not one of those 'Defund the Police' morons. Yeah, let's get rid of the police, then who do you call when some assholes break into your house and begin raping you and murdering your family? Seriously, how stupid are the people?

No, I have a healthy respect for law enforcement. Just because 5% of them are bad, it shouldn't detract from the 95% of the force that do a great job. Look at any career field. I'm sure that you will find at least 5% of the people in that field are assholes. Probably a whole lot more than in the law enforcement field. My particular issue isn't with the 5% that are bad apples. I can actually work with them. My problem is with the 95% of the cops that are good. Those are the ones that can fuck me up. Thankfully, I can avoid them. At least, I used to be able to avoid them. I mean, aside from the occasional speeding ticket. That's really not even my fault. Seriously, you drive a couple built up '60s and '70s muscle cars and see how well you keep to the speed limit.

So, we had a nice breakfast in the café together. We got along very well. Yep, she is a senior agent with the FBI. Of course, she's in the Cyber Crimes division. Nope, she can't really go into specifics, but she did tell me that she's tracking a certain hacker that has been stealing a LOT of money from several businesses. Odd, he just hit another one recently (like, maybe yesterday?) I always got a kick out of it when everyone referred to a hacker as a HE. It's sorta like serial killers (really, who would want to kill a box of Corn Flakes). The overwhelming majority of serial killers are men. That's even to the point where most people don't even believe that women serial killers even exist. It's the same thing with hackers. Most hackers are men (well, to be honest, they are really grown up sexually repressed boys living in their mother's basement and living in their underwear). I am here to proudly tell you that there are women hackers as well. We are just a small percentage of hackers, and we tend to not draw attention to ourselves. That's probably because all we need to do is put on a little black dress and a pair of heels, then go to the nearest club to get laid. Those older adolescents living in mom's basement have a lot harder time getting laid.

So, she had to go back to work, and I had to get the hell out of dodge. After she left, I quickly packed up, put on a disguise, got in my car and left. I was driving my '71 Corvette on this trip. Yeah, not exactly the car for trying to keep a low profile, but I am an unashamed gearhead. I own 10 different vehicles, and not a single one of them was built after 1972. Anyway, I was soon on the freeway and headed for the local community college.

With some strategic padding, good makeup, a short-haired wig, quality facial prosthetics, and tightly binding my breasts, I passed as a college sophomore as I made my way to the computer lab. Yeah, yeah, yeah, you need a school ID to access the lab. Do you know how ridiculously easy those things are to forge? Anyway, I found a free machine in the back. It was a slow time in the lab, so no one was near me. In 10-minutes, I had set the program up and uploaded all the data I stole from the company outlining their operations in the South African Blood Diamond trade. Internal emails, memos, accounting, and everything else. I set the timer for my little program to go off 10-hours after I left. That little email was addressed to every major news outlet worldwide. 8-hours later, I was two states away in another hotel room waiting for the shit to hit the fan.

It's been three months since I met Sarah. For some reason, I simply cannot get her out of my mind. This is a supremely bad idea. For God's sake, she works for the fucking FBI! In the Cyber Crimes Division! And she's actively tracking a hacker - that is probably even ME! I should run far and fast, but there is just something that won't let me. Fuck it. I buckle down and continue researching my next target. Although these bastards are doing a really good job of hiding it, I've discovered some secret investments they have in third world sweat shops. This was a perfect target for me.