Doctor Katia Alexandrov took a chair by the kidney shaped pool. Dozens of people lounged about it, families with young children, beautiful young women working upon their tans and buff young men, who were the object of her interests. But not for the usual reason. Looking over the edge of the e-reader, she scanned the area. Was he even here? Her target, Naval Lieutenant Zane Rogers. Tension drained from Katia's neck and shoulders when she saw him chatting with two of his roommates at the far side of the pool.
It was time for a test, a small test of her latest theory. Like so much of Russian science it took established and sometimes mundane theories and pushed it to the extreme. In her case, the experiment built upon the recent scientific confirmation that men described fertile women as more appealing, even their voices. This though would test the bounds of that.
Of course, Katia really should have used one of their regular female agents, women who were already beautiful. But from a personal perspective, she wanted to see just how far this new method of mind control could be pushed. It would be no real experiment to send in an agent, whom most men would bed anyway. No, much more challenging when the test subject was a mousy brunette with too wide hips and too small tits. A pear. Her babushka had always told her that she had a pear-shape, perfecting for having babies. But Katia had no interest in breeding babies. No, she wanted to use her mind.
She chuckled, was it odd that in using her brilliant mind, she had been brought back to the same point. She was going to discover just how attractive a fertility goddess was to men. And in this experiment she would play that role. Shy, mousy, too-smart little Katia was for this single day Mata Hari. She adjusted the tiny scrap of white material that covered her left breast. It seemed to keep slipping lower and lower, threatening to reveal her taut nipple.
Damned drugs, she thought. Her whole body felt both violently ill and incredibly horny. It was an odd combination. But considering the strength of the fertility drug cocktail that she had been taking since the beginning of her cycle it was not doubt that the side effects were unpleasant. Although the unusual tightness and fullness in her A-cup breasts was not exactly unpleasant, just distracting. But not nearly as much as the almost constant itching between her legs that begged for a different kind of scratching. Then again if things went well with this experiment, that itch would be well scratched soon.
She watched the men high-five and her prey stood up, stretching. Muscle rippled seductively from toe to head. From a purely eugenics standpoint, she had to admire the Lieutenant as a specimen. At over six foot three inches, he towered over her by more than a foot. His body too was in top shape; it would have to be for his role a SEAL. But what intrigued her most about the man was his intelligence. Her research showed that the man had an IQ equal to her own one-hundred and fifty-one. She shook her head, why would he waste such a gift? Why would this man choose killing over the pursuit of knowledge?
But she did not have time to ponder this mystery that had been bothering her for weeks, her prey was on the move, separating from his friends and leaving the pool area. It was the opportunity that Katia had been waiting for. She grabbed her towel and headed for the gate at this end of the pool. It was most likely that the man was heading back to the apartment he shared with his friends. If so, then he would be follow the path back this way. Katia peeked around the bush to see the man approaching. She drew in a deep breath. She cursed herself for not following orders and sending Natasha or Anya, they would know what to do. Not poor plain Katia, who had never really had a boyfriend, let alone tried to seduce a man like this one. But it was too late now.
She stepped from between the bushes and directly into him. From the tangle of their legs and feet that nearly sent Katia sprawling to the ground up to the way her small breasts tightened even more as they brushed against his abdomen, their bodies melded against one another. Katia swallowed hard as his smell hit her. It was dark, rich and completely masculine. She wondered if he could smell her. Of course, he could. Consciously or sub-consciously it was her smell that would act upon his brain, weakening his usual mental prowess, allowing her to extract the information she needed.
"Excuse me, ma'am," his voice rolled over her skin like the gentlest breeze, clearing the air on a hot summer day.
"No, was my fault. I should look where I go," she offered. She hoped she was doing this right. She kept her eyes low, glancing up when she could to gage her subjects reactions. She smiled a bit at the odd almost pained look on his handsome face. It was as if he was concentrating very hard upon something.
"Do I know you?"
She shook her head, wishing for long blonde waves rather than a functional short brown bob that made her look considerably younger than her twenty-two years. "I do not think so. Perhaps we have seen one another around the complex?" She struggled with the proper American wording. She had studied English in the United Kingdom, at Oxford, where she did her undergraduate studies in chemistry. The two versions of the same language differed significantly.
He nodded slowly, still studying her. "That must be it. Zane. Zane Rogers," he said holding out his large hand.
Katia returned his smile and placed her tiny hand in his. But rather than shake it as she had anticipated, he drew it to his lips, kissing first the back of it and then staring deep into her brown eyes, he turned her hand over and placed another soft kiss in the center of her palm. "Forgive me," he apologized. "I'm not usually this forward with a woman I have just met." He shook his head, harder this time, as if trying to clear it. "I don't know what has come over me."
Katia thought of her friends Anya and Natasha. What would they say? What would these women who used their bodies to seduce men everyday reply to this vulnerable man? "Whatever it is, I like it, Mister Rogers." She hoped that and the soft batting of her short lashes was close enough.
"No, please, Zane," he said. "I really should get going. I lost the beat with my friends so I have to make the drinks. They are expecting me back soon."
She nodded and bit her lower lip. It was obvious that she was having some kind of effect on the man, but it was not enough. What should she do? How could she augment it effects? "Would you mind me walking with you? My apartment is not far from here."
His smile broadened at her words, "I'd like that very much. Miss? What did you say you name was?"
Katia had not considered something even this simple. Should she tell the man the truth? it was not like he would ever come looking for the mystery woman that he casually fucked one hot summer afternoon. In these modern ages, casual sex was much too common, well for others at least.
"Kate, Kate Alexander," she replied, choosing to Americanize her name. It was not an outright lie, but the slight deception should be sufficient for this purpose.
"Kate. It suits you," he said as he placed his hand at the small of her back and turned her lead her down the path.
"So what do you do, Miss Kate?" he asked.
