Amanda, CIA Agent Ch. 11

They both shook Cunningham's hand, neither able to muster a smile. Dirk Miller waited inside, and Amanda greeted him with a quick hug and a peck on the cheek, as she always did on social occasions, slipping from his grasp before his hand reached her butt. Michelle nodded curtly to her husband.

Dirk pinched the bridge of his nose and spoke in a flat voice. "The captain's here to help us resolve a discrepancy concerning your indecent exposure charge, Amanda."

Cunningham stepped closer, reaching out to lift a handful of Amanda's long, dark hair from her shoulder, making her flinch, and rubbing it between his fingers. "Both witnesses described your hair as light brown, which isn't quite accurate. So, this could be a case of mistaken identity. But I'll need to be complete some due diligence. Let's head upstairs."

He led the way into a large bedroom with a king-sized bed. "So, here's how it's going to go." He looked at Amanda. "First, I'll confirm your physical description doesn't match the woman referenced in the witnesses' statements. That's item one."

Amanda had an idea how he planned to make his determination. "And if it doesn't match --"

He held up his hand. "I'll get to that."

He stepped toward Michelle. When Dirk gave a nod, he curled his arm around her and pulled her close. "Yum, you smell good enough to eat."

Michelle squirmed, turning her head to shoot Dirk a look. Dirk watched with flinty eyes, his brow knitted.

Amanda remembered Dirk's jealous streak, and intuited he wasn't enjoying seeing Cunningham's arms wrapped around his wife's body. Perhaps he wasn't happy with all aspects of this deal either.

Cunningham eased his grip, settling his hands onto Michelle's tiny waist. "And you're item two, doll. Ever since Dirk showed me his picture of you in your wedding dress, I haven't been able to forget you. So, we're going to do a little role play. Dirk brought your gown, and he's assured me you can still fit into it. Amanda can help you put it on, and then we'll pretend you and I are newlyweds, and it's our first night together."

Michelle worked her jaw, nostrils flaring, and Amanda understood her friend's repeated objections before her final bitter acceptance.

Cunningham gave Amanda a smug smile. "Item three, I'll decide that without any viable witness statements, and lacking the manpower to investigate further, I have no choice but to drop all charges."

Shaking her head, Amanda grabbed her friend's arm. "I can't let you make that sacrifice for me." She looked at Cunningham. "But I can wear Michelle's dress, and it can be our wedding night. I know I'm not as pretty as Michelle, but I can pay my own debts --"

"You're every bit as pretty," said Cunningham, "but that's not the deal. Anyway, you have your own work to do." He glanced at Dirk, who now appeared happier, tapping his foot and whistling as he looked up at the ceiling. "Item four, Dirk fucks Amanda, here in this same bed, while Michelle and I watch."

Michelle frowned. "I don't need to see that."

"Yeah, you do," said Dirk.

Cunningham nodded. "All part of the deal. Item five, Dirk makes a call and Michelle's paramour gets his old job back. And, as long as Michelle behaves, he gets to keep it. And finally, item six, Dirk and I will secure certain... collateral today, to assure your continued discretion."

"How about that," said Dirk, whistling another bar. "Both of you earning your keep on your backs, where you belong. And everybody goes home happy."

Everybody except Michelle and me, thought Amanda, biting her lip.

"Great, let's begin," said Cunningham, motioning Dirk into a chair. "Michelle, go sit in your dear husband's lap."

He waited while Michelle carefully placed her bottom across Dirk's knees, tugging at her surplice when it gapped further open. Looking at Amanda, he pointed to the center of the room. "Down on all fours."

With a sour frown, she dropped to her hands and knees.

"Lift your skirt."

The hem of her cocktail dress reached only to mid-thigh, and as she crouched, it slid higher. She reached back and pulled it all the way up, leaving it gathered below her breasts.

Over her shoulder, she saw all three of them staring at her rear. These panties provided a smidgen more coverage than the thong she'd modeled earlier, but it wasn't much. Reddening, she tugged at the edges with no improvement.

"Take off your panties."

After a beat, she lowered her forehead to the carpet, hooked her thumbs through the elastic, and slid her panties to her knees. She raised herself back onto her hands, knowing the others could see everything now, feeling heat spreading down her neck.

Behind her, Cunningham knelt, leaning closer until his hot breath tickled the backs of her bare thighs. After a time, she heard him unfold a paper, flatten it against the carpet in between her ankles, and begin to mutter to himself. "...white bra...white panties...pulled them down...here it is. 'Her pussy was bare.'"

He reached out, sliding his palm over the swell of her ass, and she jumped at his touch. Moving laterally, he found the back of her crack with his finger, and as Amanda's breath shook, he followed it down, tracing along one side of her pussy, across her clitoral hood, and back along the other side.

Amanda held herself rigid, elbows locked, making a concerted effort to control her trembling. Please, let him not go between my labia, she thought. Let him not find any dew.

"Yep, completely bare, just like they said."

Maybe he wouldn't probe further. She held her breath.

Dirk cleared his throat. "That would fit most sexually active young women, nowadays. Hardly determinative."

Cunningham nodded. "True. But regardless, the hair on her head doesn't match the description. I've seen enough. Shall we move on?" Getting to his feet, he looked at Michelle. "Your bridal gown is down the hall, last door on the right. Go help her, Amanda."

With great relief, Amanda exhaled and returned her panties and skirt to their proper positions. By the time she made her way down the hall, Michelle had kicked off her black heels, unzipped the large fabric bag, and removed her gown.

Michelle and Dirk had married a year before she and Amanda met, so Amanda had never seen the dress before. "It's very pretty."

Michelle held it up. "It was such a happy day, but now it seems so long ago. So much has changed." She sniffed. "I love this dress, but after today, I'll never look at it the same way." She drew a deep breath and turned her back. "Can you unzip me?"

Amanda nodded. "Wouldn't you rather let me fuck Captain Cunningham? I mean, not that I want to, but then, you'd only have to do Dirk."

Michelle shook her head. "They'd never go for it. Dirk says Cunningham's obsessed with me, and apparently, Dirk's got it almost as bad for you. Plus, Dirk can fuck me any time he wants, as he constantly reminds me."

Amanda had to admit she was right. She drew down her friend's zipper, then held the black dress while Michelle stepped out of it. When she turned back, wearing only her panties, Amanda tried once more not to stare.

Michelle seemed not to notice as she slid her panties to the floor and stood naked, carelessly open-legged, reached into a pocket of the fabric bag, and removed a pair of white lace bikini panties. Slipping them on, she then opened the back of the gown, sat down, and placed her feet inside the skirt. She stood, and Amanda helped her thread her hands through the narrow lace sleeves.

Amanda saw the back of the gown wouldn't close unless the top edge of the skirt was positioned at the narrowest point of Michelle's waist. "Hold up the skirt, and I'll zip you up."

"Wait, I'm not...."

Amanda came around the front, and saw the corset-like bodice was fitted with demi-cups. She swallowed, put her hand inside the bodice, and cupped one of Michelle's breasts, then the other, placing each in its demi-cup.

As she moved behind Michelle to close the back of the gown, the sensation of holding Michelle's breasts remained. They were so soft. Warmth crept across her cheeks.

Releasing her tightly clasped hands, she reached into the fabric bag for Michelle's white heels and slipped them onto her friend's feet. As the final touch, she pinned the white lace veil into her hair. Stepping back, she regarded her for a long moment.

Michelle was a vision. Her full, floor length, white satin skirt was overlaid with lacy foliage. The gown's narrow waist emphasized her hourglass figure. The lacy foliage continued up her torso, winding around a series of white fabric-lined stays, offering glimpses of Michelle's abdomen and chest through the gaps. Above the demi-cups, the edges of the neckline angled outward to hang over the points of her shoulders, framing her exposed upper chest and highlighting her impressive decolletage.

"Oh, Michelle, you're so beautiful."

She puffed out a dismissive sound. "Time to go get fucked."

Amanda felt a surge of foreboding, but it was leavened with excitement. She'd repeatedly become aroused over the last two days, without any release. And both men were physically attractive, even at more than twice her age. Both also appeared to have a devious, dominating streak, but she was learning that being dominated turned her on, even if it also horrified her.

She followed Michelle back in. When Cunningham saw Michelle in her dress, he mimed a heart attack, making Michelle smile despite herself. "Your turn to sit in Dirk's lap," he told Amanda, over his shoulder, as he crowded Michelle, lifting her veil and edging her backward until her bottom rested against the side of the mattress.

Amanda found a wobbly, uncomfortable position on Dirk's hard, narrow knee, sitting as far from his crotch as possible, and crossing her arms over her chest. She wanted to cross her legs too, but that risked falling off.

Dirk barely noticed. He watched Michelle intently and unsmilingly, and Amanda noticed his face darkening as Cunningham leaned into Michelle, wrapping his arms around her, kissing his way along her clavicle.

Michelle raised her chin, rolling her eyes as he pawed her breast, threatening to spill it from its insubstantial confines. He sought her mouth, and she kissed him lightly, but when he persisted, she turned her head to take his lips on her cheek, keeping one eye on Dirk, gauging his reaction.

Cunningham lifted his free hand to her long, wavy hair, and Amanda saw dark half-moons beneath the arms of his shirt. As she watched, beads of sweat broke out on his forehead. Holding Michelle's head, he mashed his lips against hers, smearing her lipstick. He pushed her dress off her shoulders and smiled with satisfaction as he held her bare breast, even as his other hand found the swell of her bottom.

As Amanda watched, she felt Dirk's hands on her waist, pulling her closer, but when she looked up, his eyes remained on Michelle. A vein bulged on his temple, and his cheek twitched. While he was distracted, she managed to get her legs crossed.

Was Dirk out of his mind? she wondered. It obviously bothered him to see another man despoiling his wife like a pirate plundering captured booty. Did he also take pleasure in Michelle's reluctant acquiescence, in her submission and humiliation at the hand of this stranger, in front of her husband and her best friend?

Or was Michelle's exploitation merely a spectacle he would endure, a necessary component of a deal to obtain what he really wanted?

Dirk wrapped both arms possessively around Amanda's body, one encircling her waist, the other crushing her breasts and making it difficult to draw a full breath. His erection pressed insistently against the bottom of her thigh. Was he hard for Michelle, or for herself?

She suspected he was hard for both of them.

Cunningham dug beneath Michelle's floor-length skirt, seeking her bare ass, or at least her panties, but he succeeded only in crumpling her lace overskirt. In frustration, he yanked and clawed at the delicate material, until Michelle covered his hand with her own.

"Wait. Wait!" Awkwardly, she turned from her backward-leaning position, pointing out the hidden zipper along her spine. Running it down, he pulled the gown off her hips. Now wearing only her white lace panties, she turned again within his arms and freed her feet from the dress.

With a shiver, she hugged herself as she stood before him, biting her lip, no longer in command, her self-assurance wilting under his assault. Eyes dancing, his tongue visible between his open lips, Cunningham hooked his fingers into the elastic of her panties at either hip. Chortling, he drew them down, then put his hands beneath her arms and tossed her to the center of the bed. He stood over her, savoring her ripe nubility.

Michelle crabbed backward toward the headboard, pulling her knees to her chest defensively, as she glared malevolently at Dirk.

Then Cunningham sprung onto the bed, pulling Michelle back to the center by her ankle, pushing his wide hips between her knees, forcing her thighs apart. As she thrashed, he fell atop her, splayed her legs further with his own, unzipped, and poised himself above her opening.

Over his shoulder, Michelle's eyes burned into Dirk, and Amanda saw her mouth a profanity. But as Cunningham prodded her vulva with the tip of his cock, the remaining fight went out of her, and her body went limp. In seconds, Cunningham was inside her.

Amanda tried repeatedly to look away, but each time she found her eyes drawn back to the sight of Cunningham's dick splitting Michelle's labia. She'd gotten a couple of brief, oblique glimpses of her friend's pussy the day before, but this was a much longer, clearer view of Michelle with her legs spread wide, while being penetrated.

She's paying for my crime, thought Amanda. She's doing this for me.

When she finally tore her eyes away, she saw Michelle watching her, not with the amusement she'd shown the day before, but with a questioning tilt of her head, as though trying to discern the reason for Amanda's obvious, sustained interest in her nether region at the moment of its invasion.

Then Cunningham recaptured Michelle's attention as he thrusted deep, his hands deforming her pliant breasts, his face buried in her hair. Pushing himself up with his arms, he fucked her with energy and enthusiasm, and with every stroke, Amanda saw the light in her friend's eyes grow dimmer, until Michelle lay there lifelessly while he rocked her body forward and back, the headboard squeaking with each thrust.

Dirk still held Amanda tightly, though he seemed unaware of her presence. Through his clenched teeth, he murmured, "Fuck that bitch. That whoring slut deserves it. Give it to her." He kept his volume low, but Amanda was as shocked by his murderous tone as by his hateful language.

Cunningham lurched forward, arching his back, a guttural moan in his throat. A moment later, he lowered his weight onto Michelle, rumbling contentedly. Soon after, she wiggled out from beneath him and disappeared into the bathroom.

By the time Michelle returned, Cunningham lounged back on a stack of pillows, watching her. Michelle scanned the room for her clothes, but found only her bridal gown and her panties, remembering that her black dress was down the hall in the other room. Cunningham thumped the bed beside him, and Michelle nodded but moved to put on her panties first.

"You don't need those," said Cunningham, his arm outstretched. Reluctantly, she dropped the panties and climbed back onto the bed, allowing him to draw her into his arms again. Immediately, he ran his fingers over her pussy, but when he tried to penetrate her, she gripped his wrist.

"I just finished cleaning up. We're done."

Dirk had been marking time while Michelle was away, watching the bathroom door, but as soon as she returned, he put his hand on Amanda's knee. "Kiss me."

Feeling Michelle's eyes on her, Amanda turned her face toward him, brushing her lips across his mouth. Narrowing his eyes, he held her jaw and kissed her hard, pushing his tongue between her lips until she allowed him entry. When he finally let her pull back, she looked at him coldly as she wiped away his saliva with the back of her hand.

She still had her legs crossed, but now Dirk worked his hand between them, venturing beneath the hem of her dress. Deeply uncomfortable, she glanced toward Michelle.

Cunningham spooned Michelle now, his legs again prying her thighs apart in a lewd display, as though his power over her were proof of his virility and prowess.

Michelle looked back at Amanda, her gaze focused on Dirk's arm. It was mostly covered by Amanda's skirt, but its angle left no question about the location of his hand.

Seeing Michelle's interest, Dirk turned in his chair so that Amanda's feet pointed straight toward her, affording her an unobstructed view, and he wiggled his eyebrows at her as he shoved his arm further up Amanda's skirt. Amanda felt his fingers skitter across the inside of her thigh, and a moment later, they pressed against the crotch of her panties. Her breath hitched.

Michelle's eyes remained locked on Amanda's crotch, and as the corners of her mouth turned down, Amanda reddened. Slut, said the voice in her head. Traitor. Thief. Whore.

Dirk brought his other hand to the nape of her neck, and when he located the uppermost button of her dress, he unfastened it. He moved to the second, then the third, and Amanda felt the back of her dress fall open. The final catch was at the base of her spine, and when it too was undone, he slid the dress off her shoulders. He continued tugging, and after a moment, she reluctantly withdrew her arms, allowing her bodice to fall to her waist.

"Fuck," said Dirk, staring at her full roundness, compressed and squeezed upwards by her new bra. He reached behind her to unfasten it, spilling her mounds from the cups, and after a long moment, during which Dirk groped her, Amanda noticed Michelle was still watching, her chin trembling.

Please don't be jealous, Amanda thought, wishing her eyes could somehow communicate her entreaty. Your breasts attract at least as much attention and admiration as mine. But, like any other man, Dirk wants to see and touch a new pair of toys, different from his wife's. And if they belong to a mere acquaintance, and he can bend her to his will, and make her body into his plaything, that only feeds the flames of his desire.

Dirk continued to pull at the edge of her dress, and now she pressed her lips together and stood to allow it to slide to the carpet. She prepared to return to her perch on his knee, but he was already pulling down her panties. She looked down at her own nakedness, spotted the strands of nectar trailing from her pussy, and primly brought her thighs back together.

Dirk rose to his feet, pulling her entire body against his own as he sought her mouth again. Feeling the weight of Michelle's eyes on her, she thought to push back against Dirk's chest, but with his arm wrapped so tightly around her, she could only rest her elbows atop his shoulders. His free hand marauded over her buttocks, and she waited in shame until his urge was satisfied.

When he finished, he bent, hooked his arm beneath her knees, and placed her at the opposite end of the bed, again with her feet pointed toward Michelle. Tossing his dress slacks onto the chair, he climbed up, already breathing hard. As he bent over her, Amanda pressed her palms against him, determined to maintain some control over her fate.

Dirk pushed her hands away. "You have one job, and that's to get fucked. Put your hands behind your knees, and hold your legs up, out of my way. You're the best piece of ass that ever walked through my door, nobody else even comes close. Ever since the day I did your exam, I've been waiting to fuck you, and now you're going to get it. And I only want to hear one thing from you, and that's, 'Yes, Dr. Miller, please fuck me harder.'"