Spy Games

I am running. I am lost.

I run down a dark, wet road. Someone is chasing me. Not sure who. I duck into some bushes, diving over a wooden fence.

Who am I? I feel a bulge in my pocket. I pull at it. It's a gun. I notice also, there is a knife strapped to my ankle. I look around. I am in a neighborhood. It's all familiar to me. I think I have been to this house before.

I go to the back door. It's locked. Using my elbow, I break open the window above the door knob and I let myself in.

Not turning on any lights, I don't need them. I go down the hall in the dark. I must have been here before.

I walk into the bedroom. You are lying there. Fast asleep.

I sit at the end of the bed. Turning on the flashlight, I shine it in your face.

You are sleeping, out like a light. I use the small penlight to trace your body. The long slender legs, leading up to the pussy I have known so well. The light illuminates your flat tummy, your ample breasts. The cute little chin becomes apparent, as does the beautiful blond hair.

Suddenly, after seeing you, it all comes flooding back. The codes, the terrorists, the double cross all comes flooding into my mind. Most of it does, not all. I need answers.

I take some cord and silently, stealthily, slip to pieces of cord around your wrists, bounding you to the bed. I pull it taught, causing your arms to be gently pulled to the headboard. Amazingly, you don't stir. I re take my seat.

"Wake up," I say in a strong, stern voice.

You start awake, obviously disoriented.

"Who is there? Jim, your here?" you ask.

"You seem surprised"

"No. You're just late is all."

"Shannan. Or should I call you Jade? Let's cut through the crap, OK? I need answers."

"What? Answers about what?"

"Don't pull the supportive-lover crap. I know you sold me out. I said, let's cut through the crap."

"I don't know what your talking about, I said! You're scaring me!"

I walk over to you, pulling the knife from my ankle. "I said we should cut through the crap. Or maybe I will cut through something else."

You look calm, calmer than you should be looking. "Jim, hun. Calm down."

"Oh, I am calm."

I sit next to you, as you stare at me, defiantly. You attempt to look sympathetic. You try and keep up the facade.

I run the blade of the knife along your ear, down your cheek, and under your chin. I pause at you throat.

I notice a trickle of sweat rolling down your cheek. "I could end this right here. Fucking bleed you."

"Psycho," you say.

"Ah. I see the Jade has kicked in. So is Shan gone for a while?"

You spit at me.

I run the knife blade down your throat. Your breath fogs the blade.

I run it over your breasts, as they push out against your t shirt. I turn the pointy edge over, so that they catch the material. With a flip of my wrist, the shirt is splayed open, like a filleted fish.

"You know," I say, as I run the blade over your tits, over your nipples, to the underside of your breasts, "I have always wondered if these are real. Are they?"

"You don't have the balls to find out, you fuck."

I nick a bit. You grimace as a drop of blood appears. I let it collect on the knife tip before I bring it to my lips. "Yummy."

The knife continues its journey, down your belly. I pop it under the waistband of your panties and turn it over, so that the blade is up. Another flip of the knife and your pussy is exposed to the air.

"Hmm, there is a little more hair than usual. Should I give it a trim?" I ask as I run the knife lightly over the near bald cunt.

My mind races. "What am I doing?" I think. "I love this woman. Don't I?"

I continue. "So, why did u sell me out?"

"I didn't."

Your voice is strong. You are not breaking.

I take the knife, flip it in the air over your body. Up it goes, only to be caught by me. I jam it into the wall, inches above your head.

I roll of the bed and undress. "Well, there is more than one way to make you talk."

I climb between your knees, as you kick at me. I have to be careful. I know that those legs have taken many a man down before.

I climb between you.

I lick my hand, rub it on my cock and force myself into you.

You grimace.

"You're a little dry, hun. Sorry I wasn't in the mood for much foreplay."

I fuck into you, mauling your tits. "You were always a good fuck, hun. Sorry to find out it was just a job for you."

"No, it was real for me."

I feel myself in you, and it is dry. But the more I talk, the more I know your enjoying it. Suddenly, you are soaked and I am sliding in your, faster and harder.

Your hands bound, you hike your legs higher, as I squeeze the bleeding tit, allowing more blood to flow from you. I rub it into your body.

I push your legs back, farther and farther, until all I see before me is your stretched pussy being spread and pummeled by my cock.

I can see you're enjoying it. I have to admit, I want to cum so bad.

I take the knife and with a swipe, your hands are free.

You grab my ass and help me fuck. I throw the knife into the other wall.

You grab my hand and pull it to your throat.

"Squeeze," You command.

I do. I squeeze slowly as I feel your body begin to tighten and relax, ready to come. You explode with a squeal as you thrash against me, the orgasm and the fear of death pouring out of you.

I release you and pick up my rhythm. You begin slapping at me with the ropes.

"Cum, fuck you. Cum on me."

I do, in an orgasm that feels like it's been building in me since puberty. Like this was the woman I was meant to fuck. And this is how I am supposed to fuck.

My semen coats you, mixing in the blood of your tit.

I fall backward, in a daze and I soon as I do, one thought enters my head, "rookie mistake." Soon, you are over me, naked, bleeding with a 9 millimeter pointed at my wet, slick cock.