This second installment in the adventures of the Temporal Management Agency's most enigmatic operative is a long one. There is more story than sex, which is a departure from much of my work on Lit. But for those of you who want more than just the 'action,' I hope you will appreciate this. So get comfortable, pour yourself a drink, and enjoy . . . .
***
Agent Corinna Bellew stood in the doorway of the gymnasium, arms folded angrily across her chest. She stared upon the man as he went through practiced katas on the thin, hard mat. Her features were hard-set; her teeth ground against each other. What the Director had told her that morning did not sit well with Corinna.
"It has to be done,"
Col. Naveen had said.
"There are some things we don't have any choice in."
"You could have told me sooner,"Corinna had responded, with more than a little impunity.
"It's been almost two weeks."
"If we had discovered this sooner, I would have told you."The Director's eyes had been hard.
"No one expected you to actually form a relationship with him."
So it's my fault,thought Corinna ruefully, watching as Dylan Moon tumbled and moved across the mat. He looked delicious in just his sweat pants, whirling escrima sticks in his hands.
Delicious . . .
that was a word that came commonly to the veteran agent's mind whenever she thought of her lover. Everything about Dylan filled her with desire. His strength, in both body and spirit, his appearance, his unique and fascinating life . . . .
He's seventy-three years old, but he looks like he could have graduated college last week,
Corinna mused.
I have the best of both worlds with this man.
Her therapist would have a field day with the way Corinna thought of Dylan. For years now, Corinna had gotten into the habit of seducing men who were barely old enough to drink legally. Their age and enthusiasm were seductive to her. They reminded her of when she had been young, free, and wide-eyed. They helped her forget the horrors she had seen as a Special Forces officer with the United States Army, of the things she had witnessed through her jaunts in time.
If she could no longer be innocent, then at least she could share time with ones who made her feel that way, if only through the experience of their young bodies. But now, here was a man, chronologically twice her age yet younger in other aspects. He had experience, skill, knowledge . . . and he made her feel like no other man ever had before.
She was in love with Dylan Moon, she knew, or at least as close as she would allow herself to be, at any rate. And that love, that knowledge, was as much painful as it was thrilling.
With a whirl of the ribbed combat sticks, Dylan ended his practice and straightened. He did not look to Corinna as he spoke. "What's wrong?"
She took a breath, let it out heavily as she stepped into the room. The musky, manly aroma of his sweat flooded her senses. She felt a twitch of arousal between her thighs. Her libido was so easily triggered around him, she had come to realize.
"Nothing. I was just watching you," she said.
He gave her a small smile along with a sidelong look. "Maybe we haven't learned everything about each other, yet," he said. "But we've learned a lot. I can tell when something's bothering you."
She smiled, forcing it out. "It . . . It's nothing, really. Just some mission details from an old case." She stopped before him, touched his chest. Her cheeks colored a bit. "God, you're sexy when you're like this."
He held the two escrima sticks in one hand and took hers with the other, lifting them so he could kiss her fingers. His brown eyes bore into her own blue orbs. "Are you sure it's nothing?"
For a long moment, Corinna remained silent. She was mesmerized by his attentions. No man had ever made her feel so submissive. She was a consummate soldier upon the battlefield, rough as rawhide and untenable as a bull . . . yet around Dylan, her knees felt weak and her heart palpitated.
"Nothing we need to worry about right now," she said, insinuating herself closer, sliding her legs against his. She was aware of the heat of her sex, all but burning through the denim she wore, and of the protruding stiffness of her nipples against her slim top. She yearned for him, even though it had only been a few hours since their coupling that morning.
Dylan smiled, graced her chin with his fingers. He kissed her gently, tasting her lips. Corinna responded with a slight whimper, slid her hands over his strong shoulders to pull him close. She sucked hungrily upon his lips, his tongue.
"Mission debriefing in one hour," she whispered.
Dylan smiled, stroking the small of her back, letting the tips of his fingers slip to Corinna's buttocks beneath the waist of her jeans. "So we have an hour?"
Corinna grinned. "Uhm-hmm," she affirmed, then stepped back, taking his hand. Her eyes blazed with lust. "You need a shower, big boy. Come on."
Dylan's eyebrow arched. "Are you gonna scrub my back?"
She bit her lip wistfully. "Oh, I'm gonna take care of every last inch of you, sweetie," she breathed.
***
Corinna moaned deeply, bracing her hands against the shower walls, her mouth hanging slack as she felt the thick length of Dylan's cock push into her from behind. She propped one foot against the stiff glass of the shower enclosure, sighed at the sensations of her lover sliding back and forth inside her. Dylan's hands gripped her taut, narrow hips, then moved up to cup her small breasts. Corinna purred and moaned again at the feel of his lips and hot breath at the nape of her neck. Shivers rippled down her spine.
"Don't stop fucking me, baby," she murmured, hanging her head, her short blonde hair slick and dripping from the water. "Make me cum . . . please."
Dylan nipped at her dewy earlobe. "Anything you want," he whispered, then began pounding harder, thrusting deep within her. Corinna cried out, shaking with pleasure. She could actually feel the pulsing of his cock inside her, the way it stretched and filled her like no other man ever had.
She screeched when she came, a staccato, wild sound. Her hands slapped back against Dylan's hips, his strong arms. She nearly drew blood as she scratched at him. Her pussy squeezed him so tightly that he almost became immobile within her. Yet still he thrust, still he held her tightly and drove into her body, into her soul. Had he not been holding her so firmly, Corinna would have collapsed.
But then came the burst of energy, inspired by her release. Coming down from her orgasmic high, Corinna pushed against the shower wall and back against her lover. She glared at him over her shoulder, her eyes glowing brightly. "I wanna taste you, baby," she declared in a heated whisper.
"Do you?" he asked, driving his cock faster and faster within her rippling tunnel.
"Yes!" she gasped, shaking with both aftershocks of pleasure and anticipation of what was to come. "Please!"
With a groan, Dylan slipped out and leaned back against the tiled wall. The spray from the shower head cascaded over them both. Corinna whirled around and dropped to her knees, grasping his stiff, slick cock in her hands. She lavished it with attention, licking, sucking, stroking and pulling. Her mouth closed around the head as she masturbated him frantically. Water poured over Dylan's body, down Corinna's face. Her hair was heavy and wet from it, swept back from her face. He had trouble believing she was her real age in that moment.
"Oh, God! Jesus!" he croaked, arching his back from the wall, pushing his cock into Corinna's mouth. She stayed with him, sucking and urging out his orgasm. Then she felt his cock swell and stiffen, tasted the rush of warm, bittersweet fluid as it filled her mouth. She moaned at the flavor of him, relished the knowledge that she had coaxed out such a wonderful gift. She savored it all; the moment, the taste, everything.
Corinna slipped back, releasing his cock, and swallowed with a sigh. Smiling, she kissed, licked, and sucked tenderly at the head of Dylan's penis, squeezed out a few last drops for her hungry tongue. She grinned up at him, touching her chin as she felt a thin trickle of her lover's seed dripping down to her neck.
