Every time I write a story people ask me to make it longer and more detailed. I have tried to do that here. This is a standalone story, but could be continued if you want me to.
I respond to every email sent to me, so please feel free to comment.
As always, I have changed all the names in this story, including my own.
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I was contacted by my company while I was still on vacation even though they had promised that even if the sky was falling that they would not call me back early. The last three vacations I took ended the same way and I was getting tired of it. The phone rang and I knew it was my boss. I had to answer it, but chastised myself first for taking the phone onto the beach with me and not leaving it in the hotel room. I answered it and skipped the pleasantries. I know my boss hated that sort of thing.
"I'm not going to like this phone call, am I?"
"No", he said. "Probably not. I got a call from the CEO of ATP and they have a leak. He wants someone with an investigative background out there right now. He says he'll pull his business if we don't get an 'A-Player' on it".
I immediately knew that my vacation was over. ATP stood for Amalgamated Technology Processing and was one of our largest clients. Their yearly billables are in the mid six figures.
"Define what he means by leak".
"So you'll do it?"
"Of course", I said feeling guilty already about leaving early. I would have to arrange for my companion to take a solo flight home. She wouldn't be happy.
"Okay, so in the last year, one of their competitors beat them to market with some of their own programing 4 times. He's sure it's theirs, because after the first two times it happened, he had the programmers imbed some meaningless code in every job they do. Yesterday two of them turned up with the code. Marque is pissed and wants some help immediately."
"Okay, I'm on my way."
"What do you need when you get there?"
"I should be able to do most of it alone, but I'm out of the country now so I will need some supplies when I get in. Can you have someone bring me some standard equipment, a pistol and set up a place in case we need to interrogate someone? Out of the city would be best."
The boss hung up the phone without agreeing. He knew this always pisses me off and it did. I picked up my drink from the table, shook out my towel and walked back to the hotel. Our room was a nice little cabana on the beach. The air was warm and dry and I had left the windows open in the room when I went out early this morning to take in some sun and salt air. I was wondering what kind of condition I was going to find the girl in, and thanking my usually decent luck that I had thought to bring a fuck buddy rather than a girlfriend on this occasion. Jessica was just a waitress I had met over lunch one day. It's always so much harder to tell them you are leaving early when it's a girlfriend. But if Jessica gets pissed, assuming she is sober enough to understand, and then who cares. She can go her own way and I can go mine.
I opened the thatch door to the cottage and rounded the corner to the large, overly padded bed in the middle of the room. Jessica was still passed out, naked in the middle of the bed, having kicked all of the covers off of herself. Last night we had gone clubbing until the wee hours and then she had surprised me by taking out a little plastic bottle and dumping a few drops of something in each of our drinks. She said it was something herbal and that it would make our minds one so that we could truly experience each other's souls, or some other hippie conscience expanding nonsense. No thank you! I dumped my drink out while she was drinking hers and for the rest of the night kept feeding my drinks back to her every time she would spike mine with whatever was in the little bottle. As the night wore on she became more and more physical with me on the dance floor as, simultaneously she lost most of her ability to form cogent sentences.
She was a beautiful girl, there was no denying that. She had a dark complexion and light brown hair. She was a little more slender than I generally cared for in the women I bed, but she made up for it with lovely round hips and a large C cup chest. As we danced at the little club, her movements became more and more insistent, more of a slow lead up toward sex. The place was dark and noisy and no one was paying attention to anyone else in the place but their own private convulsions. Jessica pushed me down in a chair and started performing a lap dance for me. I greedily ran my hands up her thighs and under her sparkling silver mini dress that she was wearing. She had opted to go without panties and she was so turned on, weather by the dancing or the little drops she was putting in our drinks, that her sex was dripping down the inside of her legs. The moment I felt it I knew I had to take her right there. I opened my fly and took out my painfully hard erection, and guided her back and onto it. She continued to dance and cavort in a semi dreamy way, while I grabbed her waist and moved her back and forth, harder and harder until I came inside her over and over. Her thighs and the bottom of her dress and the front of my khakis were drenched from her flowing pussy.
I stuffed my rapidly softening cock back into my pants and then started making my way to the door. She was drunk and high and hard to maneuver. Eventually I just carried her. By the time we got back to the car, she was thoroughly passed out. I carried her into the cabana and had some decisions to make. She was covered in our fluids and club grime and I didn't want to take her to bed like that. So I first stripped myself and then her, and brought her into the shower with me. She was still out of it, and even some cold water didn't wake her up more than a little. I used a soft washcloth to clean her up and then dried her off. By the time I was ready to put her back to bed I was hard as a rock again.
It was her tits that did it to me. Her nipples were so much darker than her skin; it was really her best feature. And while I had washed her body I watched as they got hard and tight and LONG. Her nipples elongated more than any 22 year old that had never had kids should ever be able to. They were the perfect crown for her large, swaying breasts. I knew I was going to fuck her again and I knew there was really no sense in arguing with myself about it. On the way to the bed I leaned her forward onto the arm of the couch. It was high and put her ass at a nice angle to my crotch. I kicked her ankles apart as gently as my arousal would allow. Even though I had dried it, her cunt was already dripping again. I made a mental note to ask her what was in that little bottle, and a part of me, for a moment, was sorry I hadn't tried it myself. Taking my cock in my hand I rubbed the head up and down on her smooth, moist slit and coating it in her juices. I was just about to plunge all the way into her when another thought occurred to me. She had always been adamantly against trying anal. It was her one taboo, the last place she would never consciously let me into.
I readjusted my position and began to press firmly and insistently into her most intimate of places. Slowly, ever so slowly I felt her expand to let me in, felt her stretch to accommodate my size. When I finally felt her accept all of my member, she startled me with a little gasp, I paused for a moment to see, but she was still asleep. I began my slow, in and out movement, harder and harder each time, feeling my own orgasm building inside of me and coming to the surface. As my strokes became rougher I could hear little noises escape her lips, like her body was unconsciously responding to the pleasure and pain of what it was experiencing. She remained limp but her breathing steadily increased, until finally I knew the end was coming. I grabbed her hips too roughly, I knew, and slammed her back into me, and I thrust forward as hard as I could, over and over until I came, pumping my semen uselessly into her ass.
Spent, I carried her to bed and went to sleep next to her. I could smell her wet sex and knew her body was ready for another round, but too tired and too drunk to care. Hours later, I woke up and decided to take a swim to clear my head and rinse off the sweating and fucking of the night before in the clean, salty ocean, expecting that I would have another few days in paradise. But of course I was wrong.
Coming back to the cabana now, I knew that I had to pack and leave quickly. Her still being passed out from the night before was a lucky twist. At least I wouldn't have to listen to 20 minutes of arguments and guilt over leaving her. I packed my bags quickly and wrote her a note about having to leave and telling her to get in touch with my secretary to make her travel arrangements home. Writing the note, I suddenly had a wistful feeling knowing that I would probably never be forgiven for this, and it was such a casual relationship anyway, I had probably fucked her for the last time. I set down the pen and wandered over to sit on the bed. She was breathing regularly in the deepest sleep, nude under the fan in the hot dry air. She was lying on her stomach with one leg crooked up. From where I was sitting her breasts were hidden from me, but the rest of her body lay sprawled out in front of me like a gluttonous meal. I ran my hand up her leg and toward the inside of her thigh. Her 22 year old skin was smooth and taunt, sun kissed pink from mild sunburn under her dark complexion. My hand rose to the narrow tan line where her bikini bottom covered her lower lips and left the area pale. I ran the back of my hooked finger along the slit of her opening. Her lips were no longer engorged, her arousal long since passing in the night. I finally parted them with my middle finger and pressed it as far as it would go in. She was dry and tight, and the slight fantasy I had had of taking her one last time before I left passed. A little frustrated, I left my hand there for a breath or two hoping that I suddenly felt some sign of arousal from her that would spur me on to one final, glorious romp before I left, but there was nothing. With a sigh I got up, put on my suite, grabbed my one bag and headed for the airport.
Nostalgia is not something I experience often, but I wondered for just a moment if she would cry for me when she saw that I had left? Would she take another lover at the resort in an attempt to prove that I had meant nothing to her? That would be fine with me. Perhaps even another couple would take her in, and she could service them both. That thought made me smile and I boarded my plane.
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In my field traveling internationally is always a pain in the ass. When I travel for business I have to carry a gun with me. This usually means a ridiculous amount of paper work handled by the secretaries and lawyers. Some countries, like Italy and The Dominican Republic won't let you bring them in. You have to basically rent a gun from the local police force when you get there, and that means its pot luck if the piece of junk will even work or not. I try to avoid these situations. Since I had just come back from the Maldives for vacation, there was no way I was allowed to have a gun with me. That's why I told my boss Garrison that I needed a fixer. Basically a fixer is a person that is either local to a particular area or will meet you there and set things up for you that you are too busy or to visible to do yourself. We do enough business with ATP that we had one stationed in Pena Blanca that we could easily call on. She met me at the airport and took me to the rental car place. I choose a very modest 4 door sedan with a slightly larger engine, but with a firm belief that I wouldn't need it. I then followed her to the location she rented for me to use.
Now we usually call a place like this a "Safe House", but that is really misleading. I'm not a spy and this isn't the cold war. This is just corporate espionage, even though it sounds cool, usually just comes down to someone taking money for proprietary and profitable information because they can't make the note on their Audi. Some guys like calling them headquarters and even that is a bit of a stretch. It was just going to be me there, most likely, not some cadre of suspicious types trying to plot the over through of something or other. Still there were times when the privacy of an out of the way place came in handy.