To Fuck a Thief

Scarlett Kushchenko rubbed lotion over her long, sleek legs, pausing and smiling at the birthmark -- shaped like a phallus -- on the front of her left thigh. Not that she needed any help, but she was sure that birthmark facilitated her getting laid at least a dozen times.

She stopped lotion application once again to inspect her rose-and-briars right ankle tattoo to convince herself it was as colorful as the day it was applied.

Her legs now nice and silky, she straightened up and admired the reflection of her naked body in the hotel full length mirror. She was pleased at how perky her breasts looked. To view the bubble shape of her ass, however, she needed to flip her 42 inch (1.1 m) long Anna-Chapman-red hair off to one side. She laughed to herself thinking about how her hair color was called "Anna-Chapman-red" after her now infamous Russian spy twin sister.

Lastly she scrutinized the curly red-haired landing strip above her otherwise shaved pussy. Yes, its arrowhead shape, pointing to the little bit of heaven she could provide any man lucky enough to interest her, was trimmed perfectly.

Happy with her looks, she pinned her long hair up in the fancy bun she normally wore it in, and retired for the night. Though unhappy that she didn't have a lover, she was certain that her long nimble fingers would release some sexual tension.

Scarlett -- she had her name legally changed from Tatyana -- is what would colloquially be known as a "piece of work," as well as a "great piece of ass." There almost wasn't a job she couldn't do, a feat she couldn't perform, a guy she couldn't seduce. She had worked as -- sometimes two or three professions at the same time --a school teacher, cocktail waitress, actress, stockbroker, children's book author and editor (Rapunzel was her favorite classic fairy tale), personal trainer, and sailing instructor, among others. But now she had found her real calling -- trade secret "liberator" [thief]. In her present occupation her sassy mouth, sharp wit, and quick temper, could often work to her advantage.

To steal trade secrets you have to be smart, cunning, fearless, and most of all sexy and willing to take advantage of the inability of the male protector of the confidential information to think when his cock fills with blood. Scarlett was good -- no, actually she was terrific -- at what she did. She vowed never to end up being apprehended, like her sister Anna was. Scarlett had learned what her KGB father had taught them far better than her twin.

Her upcoming job was her most unusual to date. A competing web site was willing to pony up $250,000 if Scarlett could steal the source code of Literotica, the worldwide leader in erotic stories. There had to be a guy somewhere who had access to it and where there was a guy there was a fuck, and where there was a fuck there was a theft.

She found that the technical director of Literotica, who went only by his screen name "Prodigal," was to be at a conference in Washington D. C. After that he was taking a mini-vacation white water rafting on the Cheat and Youghiogheny rivers in West Virginia. Scarlett decided the raft trip was the place to seduce him, and during the trip, or immediately thereafter, steal a flash drive with the source code on it. So Scarlett signed up for the same adventure.

The trip was to be four days; an introductory party the first night at a first lodge then three days of rafting with stays at different lodges each night.

While introductions were being made by the trip guides at the party everyone laughed at Prodigal's name. Well actually the men laughed. The women just stared slack jawed. Prodigal was a hunk and a half, about 6'2" (1.9 m) tall, probably 210 pounds (95 kg), with bulging arm and leg muscles, surfer blond hair, and a movie-star handsome face. You could see his muscles since despite what would be considered chilly October air outside he was the only one wearing a short sleeve shirt and bicycle pants.

Scarlett decided this was going to be more fun than she had thought. She quickly went to her room before the party got in full swing and changed into her high tech clothes. They flattered her but that wasn't all they were good for.

She had already decided to use her "coy-deploy-enjoy" technique which was facilitated by the fact that most of the women on the trip were fawning over Prodigal. She made sure to stay in his line of vision and could tell that he was almost constantly checking her out -- shit, what a surprise; she was Anna Chapman's twin for God's sake!

Coy: Every time he started to approach her she would subtly move away or go up to one of the guides in a flirtatious manner. She was almost cornered once but escaped into the Ladies room. Finally she detected a resigned look on his face -- time for the next stage.

Deploy: Walking like she was a little bit tipsy, but not drunk, she strolled right next to Prodigal, with him on her left and partially turned to face her. Without looking at him as she got right next to him she pushed a button on an actuator causing the 3 inch heel on her left shoe to collapse inwardly "causing" her to stumble into him. He instinctively grabbed her tear-away blouse to hold her up, ripping it off and exposing her bare tits as she gently fell to the floor.

Prodigal was shocked but couldn't help staring at her beautiful breasts while holding her blouse in his hands. Scarlett pretended that she was dazed and made no attempt to cover up her boobs. After she was sure Prodigal got a good look she extended her hand and asked if he could help her up, which he was quick to do.

"Can I have my blouse back to cover up please?"

"Oh, uh, oh yeah, sorry," Prodigal stammered while handing her the torn tunic. Then he continued "I really, really, did not mean to do that."

Pretending she was somewhat miffed Scarlett said: "I guess you don't know your own strength. Listen, Samson, can you help me back to my room, and carry my shoe with the broken heel?"

"Oh, yeah, sure, anything," Prodigal replied as he picked up the damaged footwear only too anxious to assist.

With that, Scarlett let Prodigal hold her up by her left arm, covered her right boob with her torn blouse so he could still see most of her left boob, and rather than taking her good, right, shoe off, limped along with one shoe on and one off to her room.

Enjoy: When they got to Scarlett's room, it was clear that Prodigal was chagrined -- he had profusely apologized the entire way. After Scarlett opened the door he asked if there was anything he could do to help.

"Yes. Please help me to my bed and be sure to close the door, I don't want anyone looking in at me in this condition."

"Yeah, sure," Prodigal murmured as he did as told.

"Listen, I don't want to keep calling you Samson, what is your name?"

"Prodigal."

"If you leave my room will you ever return?" Scarlett chuckled, pleased with her little joke.

Prodigal laughed, "I haven't heard that one before," trying to be nice, but knowing she wouldn't believe that.

Scarlett put her left foot up on the mattress and winced.

"Something wrong?" Prodigal asked.

"My ankle is sore. Could you check it out to see if there is something broken?" With that she scooted back on the bedspread, causing her skirt to bunch up near her crotch.

Prodigal sat down on the mattress, lifting Scarlett's left foot onto his lap. When he looked over at Scarlett she didn't make eye contact with him; she pretended to just look at her foot while still wincing. He got a different look. Somehow she was having a hard time covering up that left tit, which was still plainly visible, and since she had no panties he gazed upon her birthmark then straight up from there upon the arrowhead of red hair -- which focused his eyes directly on her bare pussy. Instant Hard-On!

As Prodigal perfunctorily massaged Scarlett's foot she moved it directly into contact with his rising flagpole causing it to immediately harden even more. After a few torturous seconds, Scarlett pretended to notice Prodigal's hard-on. She started sobbing, and leaned forwarded.

"What's wrong?"

"Men can always tell when a woman is in need of sex, can't they."

"What?"

"I see your manhood growing. You could tell I haven't been laid in too long and will try to take advantage of me, won't you?" Scarlett continued as her ripped blouse now dropped completely from her hands.

Prodigal was dumbfounded, even more so when Scarlett leaned forward further and started to sob on his shoulder. Her bare tits were pressing into his chest and arm. Her skirt had ridden up even more and her pussy lips had parted slightly.

"This was your plan from the first time you saw me, wasn't it?" Scarlett challenged as she raised her teary face from his shoulder and put it right next to his.

By now Prodigal was virtually slobbering and of course unable to think since his dick had hijacked all his blood. Regardless of what he told himself on the conscious level there was no way he could deny that subconsciously he wanted to fuck this woman's brains out. He kissed her then they lay down on the bed next to each other as his hands explored her creamy breasts and she put her arms around his neck.

Not only was fucking Prodigal the most important part of her plan, Scarlett liked this guy's looks, and he was a really good kisser. So this wasn't going to be simply a "hook 'em" fuck -- she would make sure that their upcoming fuck was going to be one he'd write about in his memoirs.

Scarlett was an expert at making a guy think he was in control during sex when in fact she was the puppeteer. It wasn't five minutes before her skirt -- her last article of clothing -- was completely off as was his shirt, shoes, pants, and socks -- everything but his boxers with his cock sticking through the fly.

Scarlett turned him on his back, scooted around so that she was straddling him with her ass in his face, and moved his boxers off, with Prodigal only too willing to help by lifting up his ass.

She was pleased to see he had an attractive and meaty dick, and low hanging testicles. She sucked him like a vacuum for a few minutes while caressing his balls and mumbling with her mouth full of cock for him to stick his finger in her ass -- which he obliged. Once Prodigal was groaning like a zombie she stuffed his woody into her cunt and started riding him reverse cowgirl. Not your normal reverse cowgirl. As she rode him she arched her back, continued to knead his balls with both hands, and yelled at him to finger her ass.

Usually -- hell 99.999% of the time -- things like this only happen in a guy's dreams so Prodigal was not fully prepared to handle it. It was clear that he was going to cum as fast as he ever had. Within just a couple of minutes of her trick bull riding routine Prodigal was spewing gobs of cum into Scarlett's wet pussy. While this obviously pleased Scarlett -- as indicated by her continuous "Shit yeah" exclamations -- it didn't retard her rodeo ride one iota and she continued to bounce and twist like she was trying to rip Prodigal's dick off. Not that he objected, mind you, because even after his last wad had been expelled her pussy sliding over his cock felt great.

Also, Prodigal really enjoyed seeing the effect the twisting and reciprocating of two fingers in Scarlett's ass was having on her. She clearly loved it and it obviously heightened her orgasm when she finally came, shrieked, and collapsed on his legs.

After a few minutes they pulled apart, Scarlett gave him a tender kiss on the lips and said "Thank you, I really needed that," and then lay her head on his shoulder. While she softly chatted, he quickly fell asleep, with a smile on his face that said "my best fuck ever." She raised her head, looked at the dozing fucker, and grinned: he was a "bonk and conk" guy. That was very useful information for the future.

Prodigal woke up in the middle of the night and this time he was the aggressor and fucked the shit out of Scarlett in the missionary position. She loved it. She liked his cock, she liked his strength, she liked his body, she liked the large volume of nut butter he coated her vagina with; yeah this was going to be a fun assignment.

It was clear after the first night that Prodigal was not going to give up fucking Scarlett on this trip, so much so that he was almost following her around like a dog sniffing another's ass. They didn't really give a shit what anyone else thought so they made it clear to the organizers that they would only need one lodge room for the rest of the trip -- causing all the single women on the trip to hate Scarlett.

While Prodigal being infatuated with her was not surprising to Scarlett she was surprised when he was actually clingy when they would get in and out of the raft, and he seemed to be nervous much of the time in the white water. While sitting together on adjacent rocks during lunch of the first day she asked him:

"Hey super-stud, why are you so skittish?"

"It's kind of embarrassing."

"So was ripping my blouse off, but that didn't stop you. Fess up."

"Well I'm not good in the water. I can barely swim at all. I was always playing football and baseball, and wrestling, and never took the time for lessons."

"Then why come on a raft trip?"

"Well you always have a life jacket on, and a helmet, and guides to help you out, so I thought it would be OK. But I am a little nervous."

"Yeah, and the Pope is a little Catholic too. Well don't worry, I won't let you drown," Scarlett said as she rose with a diabolical smile on her face and whispered in his ear "Unless it's in my pussy," getting the desired blush from Prodigal.

While most of the rafters' luggage would be delivered to the lodge they would stay in for the last night of the trip, after all the rafting was over, everyone had a few items with them. As expected Scarlett saw that Prodigal had a flash drive with him that he tried to hide in a small case that looked like a dopp kit, but with a lock on it.

The sex with Prodigal was great the entire trip. Every night he would eat her, fuck her, immediately fall asleep and then wake her in the middle of the night and fuck her again. He had an active tongue, properly abused her G-spot, and put every ounce of effort he had into fucking her in multiple positions. Heavenly!

The last night, during the "Goodbye Party," Scarlett slipped away to their room. The case was on the desk -- "how simple," she thought. She easily picked the lock, removed the flash drive, stuck it in her purse, wiped her prints off a dummy drive, put the dummy in the dopp kit, wiped her prints off the lock and closed it back up, and returned to the party.

When she and Prodigal got back to the room for their last night of sex before they went their separate ways, she thought he was acting a little strangely. With an embarrassed look on his face he said:

"Uh, Scarlett. I have this, kinda, well, fantasy of tying a woman's hands to the bed post and feet to the footboard and then having my way with her. Uh, well, is it possible, uh..."

"Oh spit it out super-stud. You want me to fulfill your little sex dream, don't you?"

"Would you?"

"Sure."

With that, Prodigal pulled some strips of nylon webbing out of his luggage ("Did the asshole plan this?" Scarlett thought to herself) and tied her hands together to the headboard and her feet to the foot board with her legs spread widely. He then slowly moved all of her clothes off her breasts and crotch, ran his fingers alternately gently, then smoothly, and then roughly, over all of her sensitive parts, nibbled on her nipples, and pulled her curly red landing strip hair. By this time Scarlett was already in full-fledged pre-climax mode.

Then Prodigal straddled her, licked her clit, massaged a tit with one hand, and fingered her labia with the other. Massive orgasm #1.

Starting immediately after she stopped writhing from her first orgasm, he started again. This time while sucking her clit into his mouth, he penetrated her pussy and stroked her G-spot with two fingers, and with the other hand kneaded one of her creamy thighs. Soon: Massive orgasm #2.

She had no sooner come down from #2 then he produced some lubricant, slathered up her rosebud and three fingers on his left hand, and one by one inserted the fingers into her anus, twisting, pushing, and pulling. With his right hand he twisted one nipple then the other, and kept flicking his tongue into her gash, then contacting her clit, and then back to her gash.

By the time Massive orgasm #3 hit Scarlett the sheets beneath her crotch were sopping wet.

Scarlett was in nirvana, almost a sex-induced stupor. Wow, she felt good. She couldn't wait for the upcoming penile insertion. But then she sensed something funny. Slowly snapping out of her fog of sex, she saw Prodigal going through her luggage -- with latex gloves on! Her quick temper flared!

"What the fuck are you doing?"

"I'm looking for the flash drive with the Literotica source code on it that you stole."

"Huh. What flash drive?"

"Don't deny it Scarlett -- Anna confessed to her crimes and you should too. I have a hidden camera video of you taking the flash drive from my dopp kit and when I find it your fingerprints will be all over it. You did a nice job of wiping your prints off the lock and dummy drive but they'll be on the real flash drive. Where is it?"

Scarlett was flabbergasted, but still incensed, and not about to admit to anything. "You fucking bastard. Leave my stuff alone, Prodigal-shit."

"I'm not Prodigal you twit. I'm agent Sean Stringer of the F. B. I. We've been monitoring your activities since your sister was arrested and have been tapping your phone the last month. When we found out about your little plan I took Prodigal's place."

"You fucker!"

"Yeah, I am, huh. To be honest that was an unexpected bonus. I have to say this was my best assignment ever. Woman, you are one over-the-top fantastic fuck; I mean sex with you has been in a different league than anything I ever experienced before."

"Well sex with you wasn't worth a damn, asshole."

Sean almost keeled over laughing at that one. "Wow -- then you are one hell of an actress because I thought for sure you just had three massive orgasms!"

Scarlett continued to swear at Sean as he persevered in his search. Finally he went into Scarlett's purse -- there it was, in a zippered compartment. He carefully removed it and put it in an evidence bag, removed the video from his hidden camera and bagged that too.

Then he turned to Scarlett and said "I'll see if I can get you deported instead of sent to prison. It would be such a waste for a spectacular creature like you to be in jail."

Then he walked toward the bathroom, stopped, turned around and continued: "I would really have loved one last fuck, but I can't fuck you now that you're tied up and have no interest in fucking me anymore." With that he went into the shower stall, leaving the bathroom door open.

Scarlett finally suppressed her temper, and her brain started grinding faster than the water was showering against Sean's body. Her thought process was temporarily interrupted when she saw Sean step out of the shower. "You know, I really have come to love his cock -- and look at that body," she said to herself. Then the obvious solution hit her.

When Sean came back into the room wearing his boxers and a T-shirt he started covering Scarlett up with a sheet and blanket and said "It's been fun, but tomorrow I'm transporting you to the FBI office in Charleston, and from there you'll be transported to a Federal prison for an arraignment."

Instead of venom spewing from Scarlett's mouth it was honey.

"Listen Sean, I'm sorry about the things I said. You were just doing your job and you simply conned a con woman. After all the people I've conned how can I blame you for that? But there is one thing."