Thomas Joyner casually took a glass of Champagne from the tray. This particular op was a difficult one, there were people here that knew him by three different names.
He walked down the hall "missing" the bathrooms and around the corner. The elevator was always in the down position unless it was called to a higher floor by a key. He quickly bypassed the sensor and forced the doors open.
Tom grabbed a cable and began to slowly lower himself down to the top of the car thirty feet below. When he reached it, he opened the escape hatch on the roof of the elevator car and dropped in. From here he merely had to hit the open door button. They pulled back, and he walked out into the secure hallway.
He walked into the office at the end of the hall and opened the wall safe. There he found the flash drive that he was looking for. As he pocketed it, he heard voices in the hallway. He secured the safe and hid behind the desk.
"I have something to show you." The thick accent told Tom that the man was from the Czech Republic. The door opened, and two men walked in. There was an ugly art piece that the men talked over for several minutes before leaving the room.
Tom made his way back to the elevator and rode it back up to the party above. He walked out, and just after the door shut a waiter walked around the corner. "Can I help you, Sir?"
"Restroom?"
"Back around this way." He followed the waiter and pretended to go to the restroom. The waiter left and he walked back into the room the party was being hosted in.
"William Monroe." He turned at the sound of one of his aliases, to see a gorgeous woman with black hair. The dress fit her like it was painted on, and the paint didn't cover much of her cleavage. "You left me waiting in Paris. You Bastard."
Tom had to bug out of Paris that night, his cover was blown by the idiot local he had to work with. He knew where he had told her to meet, "I was at Cafe de la Plaix all night I thought you blew me off!"
"You said Cafe Popote."
"Oh, my god, you are right. I'm such an idiot. Let me make it up to you."
"I could never say no to you. Start with a dance, we'll see." Tom swept the woman, (he was still not sure of her name) out onto the dance floor. She looked him deep in the eyes, "Tommy, Tommy, Tommy!!"
He opened his eyes, his sister was drunk again and standing over his bed. The dream was sweeping quickly from his memory.
"What?"
"It's thundering and lightning. Let me sleep with you like we did when we were kids."
"Fine." He slid over against the wall, not hearing any thunder. Cheryl, his older sister crawled in beside him.
"Can I ask you a question, Tommy?"
"One, then sleep. I'm tired."
"Are you a virgin? Amy said she thinks you are." Amy went to school with them, in his class, but hung out with his sister and her clique. He remembered her having the rep of being a slut.
"Amy's a nosey bitch, and no I am not. Debbie Demarcus on my 18th birthday."
"I heard she is a prude." Cheryl stretched out the word prude, "How was she?"
"That's two. I have no basis of comparison. I fucked her three times while we were dating. She is the only girl I slept with. Why?"
"A bet I had with Amy, and I won." She was almost singing when she said it.
"What did you win?"
"I shouldn't tell you. It's embarrassing."
"And asking if I was a virgin wasn't? My sex life won you a bet. I should at least know, if not get a finder's fee."
Cheryl giggled, "She's gonna eat my pussy."
"What?" he sat up, now wide awake.
"Neither of us have tried to do it. They say girls can do it better than guys can. We decided we were going to try it, but we wanted to make a bet to decide who goes first."
"Well, congratulations. Your first lesbian encounter will be on the receiving end."
She giggled again. "What finder's fee would you want?"
"You to go to sleep." He got comfortable again, and she finally got quiet. A few minutes later he heard her softly snoring. He was fighting images of his sister being with another woman. He always thought two women together was sexy as hell, but never considered that his sister could be one of them.
He finally drifted off to sleep, this time his dreams were about a three-way with two women. Oddly, one of them looked remarkably like Cheryl.
#
By the time that Tom woke, Cheryl had already made it out of bed and left. It wasn't unusual for her. Often Tom wouldn't see her all day, and she would make it back in the wee hours.
Tonight was unusual though, she rolled in about ten PM. She went straight to Tom's room and sat on his bed while he was playing an FPS on the PS4. He finished the level and turned around looking at her. "What's up?"
"I want to hear more about Debbie Demarcus."
"What's to tell? We had sex three or four times. I like to think it was pretty good, but like I said last night, I got no basis of comparison."
"Well, what did you do?"
"OK, fine, whatever. She showed up here on my 18th, not five minutes after mom and dad left for work, gave me a present in a box about that big," he held up his hands to show a small box. "I unwrapped it, there was a rubber inside. She laid down on my bed and lifted her skirt. I put the condom on and had sex."
"Wow, that was it? Was it that boring every time Y'all fucked?"
"Well, she didn't like oral, giving or receiving. She always kept a bra on, 'cause she didn't want them getting saggy.'"
"Damn. That wasn't good sex. Not even a little bit. Did you ever even see your girlfriend's tits?"
"Once. I sat in the bathroom until she got out of the shower. She dried off and put her bra on. Never even touched them bare. Hell, she didn't want me to touch them too much when she had the bra on."
"Shit... I love my titties played with." She giggled then got moon-eyed for a minute.
"What?"
"Oh, nothing."
