The fun thing about being an assassin is the seduction, those moments of intimacy that occur right before the end. Sometimes it lasts seconds or minutes as the rhythm of the your heartbeat matches the target's motion. Suddenly, with a percussion that sounds like a mass of compressed air, the sniper rifle round hurtles at subsonic speeds towards the target and lands with a sting so fast the victim doesn't even have time to contemplate his shift from life to death. One heartbeat he's on the ninth green going for a birdie and the next he's in front of the pearly gates trying to tell St-Peter exactly why he should let his sorry corrupted ass into heaven. Most people I nix aren't the kind that go to heaven anyway. I'm not going there either.
The down side of my job is that my relationships never go anywhere. There is a stupid rule that you can't date the people you work with. A few "date" each in the broom closet sometimes, but it the exception and not the rule. It's a shame too, because most agents, male or female, are gorgeous by any standard. I'm not just saying that. Uncle Sam sees to it that we get all the good looks Mother Nature skimped on. And you were wondering where all your tax money goes. Sure, you could say "What does it matter if you look like a model underneath those night vision goggles," but actually the looks are for those more interesting aspects of the job. Let me give you an example and you'll get it, I'm sure.
The target is a Washington power broker in his early fifties with a fondness for pretty women and oral sex. There was a madam that we were in tight with and he ordered all his dates from her. After a little pressure from our friends at the IRS, she became very compliant in inviting an extra woman named Pandora (that's me) into the fold.
Since Mr. Power Broker was always dealing with the same madam, he was more than happy to see a fresh face in the regulars and thus a fresh mouth to come into. His eyes lit up like a little kid at Christmas when I told him my specialty was fellatio. I took him by the hand and led him into a softly lit room with soft beige plush carpeting and a comfortable array of cushions. He made the joke about opening Pandora's box. They always do. I called him a naughty boy, he definitely loved that. He was gentle and asked me what I did before. I told him that I was in the choir in high school and that I was doing this to pay for college. Lo and behold he had an erection the size of Florida. It was easy to let these guys' imaginations wander and with a figure like mine he could have never told that I was in fact 32 years old. He told me that he could try to fix something up for me, like a grant. I thanked him knowing full well that he would never leave this room alive.
I began to undo his tie and to unbutton his shirt and exposed a surprisingly well-toned chest sparsely covered with soft salt and pepper hair. He smelled of expensive cologne as I charmingly nuzzled his neck. I slipped the shirt slowly from his shoulders and let it fall to the plush carpet. I gently kissed his chest and belly smearing my lipstick as I did. I kneeled in front of him and undid his belt buckle. His pants fell down to his ankles and he was wearing a pair of black mid-thigh Calvins underneath. I rubbed my soft blushed cheeks all over his stiffening rod and a bit of moisture began to show through. His length was pretty respectable but it was the width that gave me pause. I appraised the thick hardening cock through the black cotton, running my hand smoothly along it. Nothing I couldn't handle, I thought to myself. I gave soft kisses through the material and tasted his salty pre-cum though his underwear. I knew he was mine. I looked up at him pleadingly while kneeling on the soft plush carpet and asked him if I could go touch up a bit. He said I looked fine. I told him that I did not want to be just fine I wanted to be perfect. He took a long look at me kneeling there as if I were an over-indulgent little girl, closed his eyes, and replied "Sure!"
I went to the adjoining bathroom and touched up my make up adding a rich layer of nerve toxin laden gloss to my well-shielded lips. It was the weapon suggested by my superiors. In trace doses the toxin would go straight for the heart and numb the nerves into inaction creating a seemingly natural heart attack caused by a spirited young call girl. No questions asked. Case closed. I straightened up my red silk kimono so that my ample cleavage would show well from above and noticed that I had become shamefully wet for my run in with Mr. Power Broker. Well, it had been a while. I thought about it for a bit and then said to myself "What I am afraid of, killing him! And who is he going to tell anyway?."
I walked back to the plushy room and rubbed my body up against him letting him feel my every curve on his body. His hands wandered down to my black lacy G-sting to find that it had been soaked through just like his undergarment. He slipped a finger inside me, the sly old fox. And from behind too! He nonchalantly stroked my clitoris with his wandering thumb. When he seemed satisfied with the moisture he had evoked in my pussy he took his well-lubricated finger from the front and slowly eased it into my back entry. Then he took his other hand and put it in front masturbating me at both ends at the same time. In all my travels no one had done that to me. The feeling was overwhelming. It felt so forbidden and so new for someone jaded like me. I never dared to have a man touch me like that before, but if I was going to play the whore I was going to enjoy being one. I threw my head back on his shoulder and he bent me forward on a gathering of pillows. To my dismay, he stopped for a second. I moaned in disapproval as he removed my soiled panties. He proceeded to lick my protruding lips and clit while still keeping his other hand busy at my backdoor. Here I was bent forward like a bitch in heat having my clit licked and my asshole fingered by my target who was nearly twice my age while I was pretending to be a choir girl fresh out of high school. The sheer pervertedness of it all made me come explosively at first and then my lover's sheer skill extended my orgasm into a series of stuttering shockwaves that rocked me to my foundations. On an ordinary day, that would have been enough play.
But not today. I attacked my prey with pure lust. I threw him back on the pillows and before he could say anything I slipped his thick shaft into me feeling it sliding slow and steady inside me until he was balls deep. Girl on top is by far my favorite position. I get the length I want and the speed I want when I want it. And that big dick was all mine. I could end all of this with a single kiss to any mucus membrane, like the nose, the mouth…the cock…. I was the mantis, the black widow. The mating would end when I wished. I was in complete control of the situation. My pleasure, and my mark's pleasure was in my hands. I had never felt so much in control and out of control in my life and I have not since.
I crouched astride my quarry. My feet were firmly placed on the ground. His cock was as hard as a rock and it pulsed gently inside me. I raised up my ass and sent it back down testing the stroke. I adjusted the angle just so my clit would hit his pubic hair on the way down. I slipped my red kimono down over my shoulders draping his feet with the soft silk. I exposed my breasts to him. The sliding silk coursing down my back added to my excitement. As the thick bud of my nipples neatly capped my wide dark brown areolas hardened. Each stood on end over the swell of my ripe breasts. My prey reached up to touch them and even his large hands could not fully contain the overflowing flesh of my bosom. His uncalloused bureaucrat's hands we so soft that he seemed to have never been the victim of labor. They seemed to be hands that had known only how to give and receive pleasure. I put my hands over his and taught him to touch my tits just so, not too hard and not too soft. In that somewhat awkward but extremely pleasurable position we began to move. His penis was soon awash with my nectar and slid perfectly inside my long-neglected pussy. My semi-exposed clitoris arrived just right in his pubis tickling it on the down stroke. He stroked my breasts and pinched my nipples just the right way. It was, if I do say so myself , the perfect fuck .
