Undercover

I couldn't resist teasing the woman underneath me with my cock, rubbing it against her lower lips without actually entering her, until finally, with a cry of frustration, she thrust against me, impaling herself on my cock, and the look on her face revealed that it was probably deeper than anything - or anyone - she had ever had, or, then again, perhaps it was just the fact that her father was finally inside her, coupling with her. She closed her eyes and bit her lower lip - I kissed her lips again, opening them up as we started to rock against each other.

The climax came when I was beneath her, having rolled laterally so that she wouldn't have to support me, and when the waves had washed over, the two of us lay together for sometime, just enjoying the most unforgettable lovemaking either of us had ever experienced. Her head was beside mine, cradled on my shoulder, and the two of us nibbled on each other's earlobes, too exhausted to do anything else.

I was aware that the airconditioning was reducing the slop between our legs to a smelly glue, but there was nothing that would have made me give up the intimacy of the moment. Her hair was like a golden curtain, and I will forever cherish the way it fell about my face, as if enveloping me, with its bright strands. It was dishelved, no doubt, but in its dishelvement was an element I found sensual.

"Dad," she whispered softly, so softly that it took upon the years of hearing her say the word to recognise it, and then, in a slightly louder voice, though just as sincere, "I love you." I closed my eyes so that the world wouldn't be so blurred.

I cupped the back of her head and nudged it closer to my face. "I love you too, honey. I love you a lot."

Then, after a few seconds, she spoke again. "You realize we've made a mess on the carpet. What are you going to say if they put it on the bill?"

I opened my eyes to find her looking at me, a wry smile on her face. Her hands were rigid on either side of the face, and while she had curved her upper body away from mine, the lower halves were still in the holds of each other, and the heat still refused to fade away. In fact, it was growing again. Her blue eyes gazed into mine, blues that could put the summer oceans to shame, and I smiled at her, marvelling at the Fate that decreed that such beauty should be mine, even for the shortest of times.

"If they put it on the bill," I joked back, "I will just buy the whole, goddamned hotel and then..."

"Then what, my dear love?"

"And then, darling, we'll stay here and stain all the carpets. Then, maybe, I'll make it a museum. People would pay to see this, you know."

"Really? And what will we be doing in the meantime?"

I kissed the tip of her nose. "Making other museums."

To cut a long story short, the week passed in futility as far as the assignment was concerned, but it wasn't until the same photographer called on us the next Saturday - the ninth day - with a Nikon around his neck. I turned him away, but did I detect a slight smirk on his face?...

Rebacca and I couldn't wait to have the debriefing done and over with, and it called upon all our resources of self-control to wait 'patiently' while the analysts went over the details. That done, we took the first flight home, holding hands all during the flight, giggling like the lovers that we were at the little things, just being close... and home had never looked sweeter, especially when just a lock away lay the key to us becoming one again. For four full days, we turned on the answering machine, returning only Debbie's calls, and spent the rest of the time making love.

And still, we hadn't had enough of each other...

If you thought that is where we left you off, think again. In my profession, life is a concentric helix - it just goes on and on. Or so I thought. Therefore, it hadn't been a big deal when Deborah summoned us to the office for another talk on 'that last mission.' I wouldn't mind, and I knew Rebacca damn sure wouldn't, It was getting close to a month since it had all begun, but as far as Rebacca and I were concerned, we couldn't make love enough times.

The thing that shocked me - and Rebacca - when we entered my wife's office, Director of Inter-Agencies Agency, was the huge television screen that occupied the background. Not its presence as much as what it showed. There were nine squares on the screen, and each screen showed the same two people.

Rebacca and I.

In the hotel. Making love on the floor. Showering together. Making love on the bed. On the couch. Just relaxing in the tub. Talking. Kissing... every intimate moment. And by relation, every single word.

We had been set up. By my wife. By the Director of the Agency for which we had risked our lives.

Why?

"Before I explain, let me apologise," began my wife, meeting my questioning stare with a relaxed, almost smiling expression, while my daughter was gripping my hand so tightly she was cutting off circulation. "On second thought, let me explain first. Maybe you will accept the apology then."

Why?

"The Administration is changing, and everyone knows that. That means a significant policy shift - where people in the field are concerned, that's a near-death sentence, if rumors out of the White House are anything to go by. And you two are the only people in this world for me - and I damn near died, Jack, when I heard that you were injured in Geneva. Maybe it's my weakness, but I couldn't cope with anything I was supposed to until it was confirmed that both of you were alright.

"I had to make a decision, Jack. It was a selfish decision, I know, and by pulling an experienced man like you out of the loop, I put a lot of things back near square one - but I realized that the fear would always haunt me everytime you were out there, amongst bullets, between cross-purposes. And all it would take was one little leak...

"Not to mention Rebacca." She met Rebacca's eyes, and smiled warmly. Rebacca didn't smile back, but her grip slackened considerably. "Our only child. You are just as precious to me as the day you were born, and there is not a single day that goes by that I want to make sure that you are alright. Just for that confirmation that you are happy. Then, when you took to the field ops, I managed to convince the Director to team you up - you could watch out for each other.

"And then, Geneva brought back all the doubts, all the fears.

"That was why I set this up. To get you out. I figured I would let them blackmail you... something like that - and the factor of the two of you falling foreach other so hard was never considered. We - I - figured a week of sex, and then you would decide that it was too much to ask of - but when it became love, it became the perfect solution.

"Also the perfect excuse."

"Excuse?" Things were making sense, but only barely.

"You are getting soft, Jack." She smiled ruefully. "Not that it is an insult, though - but you performed when others couldn't, and even in this case, you were still a good operator, but face it - you never did spot the deviation, did you?"

She had a point, and I had to concede it. "There were a few things that were odd about it - like why the Mossad would choose to get involved with a person so obviously fictitious... among many things."

"But you didn't spot it, did you? Neither did you, Reb. By the time the second day had dawned, you had eyes only for each other." I glanced at my daughter and saw that she was blushing furiously. I wasn't too sure I wasn't blushing too. "Just imagine. If it had been a real sting, and in the midst of a crisis, if you had gone soft... That made everything worth the time and the effort. And the lies.

"I am sorry. I truly am. I don't know what I can say."

The three of us sat in silence for a few minutes, each mind studying the other two. Rebacca was the first one to speak, and she asked the question I had been to afraid to. "What now?"

"I suppose I should ask you that question, given that the two of you seem to have some definite ideas as far as the future is concerned."

"What do you mean?"

"What do you think I mean?"

"Are you suggesting that we carry on?"

"Why not? Since, as of this moment, you are terminated from Agency service, I don't see any commitments still holding."

"And you wouldn't mind?"

"Give me one reason why I should!"

"Well!" Rebacca paused, looking at me with an unbelieving expression on her petite face. "To put it succinctly, he is your husband and I am your daughter. As in... incest?"

"So..."

Now I am sure I balked along with my daughter - my lover.

Debbie smiled patronisingly. "When you sit here and think of the family you could lose, you find that their happiness doesn't have a price-tag attached it. I am lucky - most people realize the value of their family only when they lose it - I don't want to make that mistake." Abruptly, she picked up another file and tossed it towards us.

"What gives?" I asked, gesturing towards the file.

"It's a house deed. In Tixeltown, 150 miles down DC. It's a village, actually - nice people, people who won't give a damn if Rebacca calls you Daddy."

"And why would other people give a damn if Rebacca called me Daddy?"

"I have often thought about that myself, but a woman just doesn't call her husband 'Daddy' these days without meaning it."

"Husband - "

"Honey, if I have to spell it out to you, I will - I want you and your father to move in as husband and wife, complete with the wedding coverage. Then settle down in Tixeltown, it's close enough for me to visit when I want to, yet removed from any immediate danger."

Well, that's just what we did. Rebacca and I got married, with all the papers to prove that we did, and moved into the quaint village that my wife had recommended. Rather than go anywhere else for our honeymoon, the two of us decided to spend the golden phase within our new home, running around naked and doing nothing else but fool around. I guess that's why she missed her period that month - and for the next nine months. Debbie, now that she has a grandson to fuss over, comes over every other weekend.

And when she arrives this Saturday, she's got another news waiting for her - Rebacca's pregnant again.

Uh-oh! I hear my 'wife' calling me - really, for a daughter, she has really become too demanding. Not that I'll complain, though - not when she is just as eager as I am to go undercover... I mean, under the covers.