Ann: The Married Years Ch. 37

It was Brooke who called Neil in the car on the way home, pretending to be M. And it was Brooke who had told him the lobby of the hotel had been quiet all night, so it was likely safe to allow her to come inside naked. With it being after midnight, there was no one milling about, except perhaps a few stragglers in the restaurant. It was a chance he was willing to make Ann take.

"How was the mission, James?" Brooke asked when he walked in. "Pamela won't tell me."

"We had a bit of a setback," he replied simply. "Come, Miss Bouvier. I have to finish debriefing you."

"There's not much more to take off," Ann replied with a smile.

"There's this," he said, yanking the chain connecting her nipples, making her yelp as he stretched out her tits. Using it as a lead, he pulled her up the stairs to their room.

"Fuck... that feels electric," she whispered as he pulled it even harder, some milk leaking out.

"Looks like you need pumped again," he growled as he slid the key into the lock.

She was in no mood for any more delays. She needed fucked, and she was blunt about it in her response. "I hope to god you mean with your cock, James."

Dropping the coat onto the floor, he placed the bag and the room key on the desk next to the door, which he opened all the way until it pressed against the wall. And her back was pressed against it as he held her, his hand gently cradling the side her neck. His kiss was hard and manly, and she responded by gripping his head with both hands. He lowered his zipper with his free hand, removing his cock as deftly as she'd seen him take her gun from her holster earlier.

He twisted her, pushing her chest against the door. She spread her legs instinctively, jutting her ass out to give him more access. He nearly lifted her heels off the floor when he buried his thick shaft fully inside her waiting pussy.

"GOD YES!" she wailed, her pent-up lust finally able to be expressed.

Until he clamped his hand over her mouth, whispering, "The doors open, Pamela. And we're still undercover. Now quiet while I give you what you've been thinking about since I mentioned the word 'fuck'."

When she nodded, his hand slid down, gripping her neck again over the black velvet choker, doing the same thing its name suggested. His fingers closed over her throat, squeezing it ever so slightly, and she squealed in anticipation of the rough fuck that she'd been hoping for. She didn't say anything, instead hoping he'd be willing to follow her lead just once. Reaching behind, she spread her ass cheeks with both hands, opening herself up for him.

"Cheeky girl," he breathed, pulling out of her pussy to bury his cock inside her ass. It slid in effortlessly, the lube she'd used to grease her back hole working just as she'd planned. And he acknowledged it. "...and prepared, I see."

"Always, James," she grunted, loving the feel of his strong hand gripping her neck.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

She could still feel her ass throbbing from that fuck as she lay in bed, wondering what was going on. That his mobile phone rang again so early in the morning was a scare, her real life coming back to her in an instant. As much as she loved the pretending and role-playing, her world now revolved around her husband and child; it worried her that something might be wrong. Holding the toy weapon underneath her pillow somehow calmed her, as did the cool demeanor Neil had displayed when he left the room. But he'd been gone a long time, and her nerves could only take so much.

With her own phone now drained and in need of a charge, and the one in the room somehow disconnected, she decided she needed answers. Hopping out of bed, she found the fur coat on the floor, and decided that would be as good as anything to cover herself. Slipping it on, she closed it before stepping into the hall. And there was Neil, about to place the key in the lock.

"SHIT!" she gasped, startled to find him standing there.

"Going somewhere, Miss Bouvier?" he asked, the front of his robe now open, his hard cock poking out through the hole in his boxers.

"To find you, James," she replied, unable to tear her eyes away from his shaft.

Seeing the Beretta, he arched an eyebrow. "To do what, exactly?"

Before she could answer, he had disarmed her while spinning her around wildly. The coat was forcefully removed and discarded, her body thrown down on the bed, the gun thrust in her face as he lay on top of her. The entire incident took mere seconds, and she was defenseless as he stared into her eyes with a menacing expression.

With the exception of being naked, it was nearly the same move the theatrical Bond had used on Pamela Bouvier in the movie. The circumstances that necessitated it were brought about by the Bouvier character appearing in the offices of Sanchez at the exact time Bond was about to assassinate him. The attempt failed through no fault of hers, but he still wondered at the time why she was there in the first place. He assumed she was there to tip off the drug lord. He tackled her onto the bed and held a gun to her head to get her to explain her actions.

Now Neil was doing the same thing, in character as Bond, the gun inches from her face.

"What really took you so long last night, Pamela? Were you given instructions to foil the mission?"

"What? NO!" she replied, fighting to keep from smiling. She recognized the plot line immediately and she became excited. His attack meant two things. Whatever she thought was going on when the phone call woke them up was either imagined, or it wasn't serious... the latter of which she assumed when he left the room. And more importantly, they weren't done play-acting.

"Then why were you late coming back! You KNEW I had a limited window to get the shot off!"

Unfortunately, she didn't have a good answer. She didn't have one at all. Her mind went blank while staring at the wrong end of a gun. That it was a toy didn't matter; for the first time that she could recall, she couldn't come up with dialog that made any sense. She couldn't use the reasoning from the movie, because she hadn't been in proximity of the actor on stage. And he'd smartly removed the excuse of not having the valet ticket the night before, pointing out she could have used the key-fob to find the Nissan. Unable to think of anything, she stammered instead.

In another display of physical strength, he flipped her over with one arm, her body flailing as she landed on the mattress. Pinning her arms behind her, he reached for the suitcase at the foot of the bed. She felt the cold steel of the handcuffs on her wrists, the shock of being shackled not fully hitting her at first.

"What the fuck!"

"Indeed. That's what I was thinking last night when you didn't return. We're going to get to the bottom of this, Miss Bouvier. And we have all day to do it."

"All day?"

"It would seem you're stuck here, Pamela."

"Wait... what?"

"The rain turned into an ice storm overnight. You're not going anywhere today. And neither am I," he winked.