April Porter, An Agent's Civic Duty Pt. 01

Down in the van Aprils was somewhat in shock with what she had witnessed. She got herself together, and about an hour later was back her hotel room for the night. Once in bed, she would soon be lost in dreams of sex and lust. Tonight, her first she dreams found stripping back at Florida State, the dream felt so real she smelt to smoke-filled air, the heat of the lights and thumping of the music in her ears. Her dream started with her stage dancing for the all-black crowd showing off to them what she had never allowed in her modeling days. She always ends up naked, squeezing her tits, licking her nipples, spreading her pussy lips, dipping her fingers in, and would finish it off by tasting herself to a cheering crowd. Soon the dream would shift too her walking walked the floor to give a lap dance, but no one wanted a dance. Her dream shifted to her watching another stripper getting fucked by a beautiful black man in the VIP. She recognized the woman as a beautiful blonde princess that had been one of her fellow cheerleaders at Florida State. This alabaster white princess was being taken savagely by a large black man. A jealous April could only watch her, or watch as the other strippers were pulling other handsome black men to the other booths. She would turn to look at her old college teammate; they exchanged school girl smiles and waves just as the blonde had an earth-shattering orgasm while the man dumped a massive load inside the beauty queen. April dove then down into the women's overflowing cunt to lap all the black cum. As she vigorously lapped at the girl's cunt, she soon felt a cock large cock sliding inside her. As the strokes became harder and more profound, April would turn to see a line of old black homeless men waiting to fuck her. She could hear the blonde tell her she was to nothing more than a street whore fucking homeless men from now on. April would cum hard at these words and wake up as the homeless man howled, and she felt him cum inside her.

She looked at the clock, only 4 am, and with only 2 hours of sleep, she would fall back into a deep sleep. Her next dream found her lying on a cold hard table completely naked beneath a black man she thought reminded her of a criminal she had arrested in Indiana last year. She didn't care; she was happy that she felt the thick veiny cock of a well-endowed black man in her pussy. In this dream, Mike stood over her telling her she had a duty to the black men she had incarcerated, and she should focus on reparations. Soon there was a long line of faces she mostly recognized. The black men and their large black cocks would take turns enjoying her young body. They would each have her swallow a load, cum in her now distended and sloppy cunt, before attacking her ass. April knew she wasn't racist, that none of this was true, but the dream Mike wouldn't listen to, and she thought if she pleases them, he would be please with her. He never was, but she didn't stop fucking. She could feel each of the men fuck, kiss, grope, and use her as a cum dumpster, she lost count of how many men and how many loads were now inside her. When she woke up that next morning, for a moment, she thought she still smelled the sweat and cum. It all seemed so real.

Agent April Porter Report - Subject Michael Stephan Joyner Notes/Comments February 8, 2018, Thursday

Over the last 14 days, An agent listens to and records 115 calls from the subject's office—nothing of note other than a reference to sending his mother more money. Assigned research to verify with the branch office again. All call and text messages from the subject's cell phone reveal nothing of note. Thursday delivery to food banks continues, as does other charity works.

Friday, February 9, 2018, one week left in the investigation: DEA Agents on Aprils team met for one more review as they were trying to tighten the noose on all parties and get as many warrants as possible. April was pulled aside and informed that word had come down from high up that they needed to apply pressure on Mike at all costs. The higher-ups decided they would pull him over on a traffic violation, generate a false positive from a K-9 team and jam him up to see if he would turn on his brother Jamal. They knew if they didn't have him playing ball before the busts went down, he would lawyer up and be untouchable. April listened intently to the plan but was not at all happy. By the time she picked up Mike's tail in the afternoon, the poor guy was just heading out to his staff again. April's anger grew as she pondered what all this would do to him. She knew he was a good man and frankly was crushing hard on him to boot. The thought of him being set up made her blood boil; she couldn't' let this happen. She quickly made a plan, bought some supplies including packages and a few burner phones, and went to work. She wrote a note, activated both phones, dropping one in the envelope with the note. Hired a bike messenger who for an extra two hundred, this courier would hang out after hours on-call for her. At 7pm she drove the van to Mikes street and waited.

The two nights later, just hours before agents would go after him, Mike was enjoying the company of Teresa, a Brooklyn Decker look alike. She was a beautiful sandy blonde girl he had met at the gym. Once prudish and somewhat rude to Mike, she had had quickly become his black cock slut. People knew her as an arrogant, demanding, and an elitist girl who always got what she wanted when she wasn't posting in IG. Mike had this facade quickly break down, as soon as his cock was inside her that arrogance changed to obedience. Mike had to teach her what an orgasm was; once that happened, everything changed for Teresa. Mike had quickly turned her into a submissive slut, teaching her how to please a big black cock.

Where there once stood an arrogant, almost racist IG influencer now stood a toy for Mike's pleasure. As with most nights, upon arrival, she got on her knees and asked permission to suck his big black cock. Mike would usually alternate caressing her hair, pulling on her tits all the while seductively talk about how perfect his coal-black cock looked on her lips. He would tell her over and over how she was built for BBC and how she should try hard to please black men. This was all such a change for her, up until now Teresa had always toyed with other men despite the fact, she pretty much a lousy fuck...until Mike got her in his bed. Now under Mike's training, she was learning how to worship black cock like a real whore. As she worked on his cock and plump head, he would film her so she could watch later...told her to watch it over and over...that her mouth and body were for black men. He would remind her of all the cocks she teased, so arrogant, so bitchy, and now she was taking her proper place as a black cock cum dumpster. She had become an expert cock sucker, able to suck the cum from his balls in just a few minutes. When Mike announced he was coming, she opened her mouth up to receive and properly gulped down copious amounts of cum till he finished.

April watched in awe from the van as Teresa swallowed all of Mike's load, and quickly turned to serve him dinner. Tonight, Mike did not let her eat; he made her stand there to watch him eat where he called her slave and servant, allowing her to feed him and clean up after him. For his dessert, Teresa removed her cocktail dress, leaving herself clad in 6-inch-high heels, stockings, garter belts, lacy panties, bra, and thong. Teresa danced for him to the beat of hip hop, seductively touching herself for Mike as she removed bra and panties until only the heals, garter, and thing high stockings remained. Before long, she was on the floor, legs spread out for Mikes viewing pleasure. She then proceeded to use a long hard black dildo on her sopping wet cunt calling him her black master and her his white slave. She apologized for acting racist, admitting she was inferior in every way to black master and would serve black cock at his pleasure. Mike made her cum on the dildo when he talked about having a breeding party to prove her worth.

Mike stood her up; she tossed the dildo aside and bent her over the couch. Mike showed no mercy when he shoved his cock into her pussy to the hilt. She had yelped like a dog, adjusting to his size as she would let out a slow yyyyyeeesssss to his intrusions, he fucked her like a dog heat over and over. Mike would reach around roughly pulling on her nipples and breasts, yanking on her hair as he built up speed, and he conditioned her over and over again to please any black man that wanted her body. Mike would taunt her, degrade her and always go back to talk of breeding her for himself or whoring her out to the brothers. Submitting to his dominance, Teresa verbalizes her desire to have interracial offspring; she wanted more and more black men sucking on her beautiful tits while they would work to impregnate her. She fantasized about many black men filling her white cunt with baby-making batter in the future. This once proud bombshell now would cum hard on Mikes' BBC as he described how she would become a whore for more black men. She would be a toy he would use to satisfy his every need, and she would fuck anyone whenever or wherever he commanded until she was ready for her true destiny. Mike nutted her deep, filling her cunt with a parting gift. As they stood, coupled with his still engorged cock in her sloppy cunt, Mike would pull her up to his chest so he could further educate her on her fantasy. He would rub her stomach, tease her clit as he described how he could arrange a breeding team of black men that would happily line up to impregnate her. Mike knew her fantasy had become one where she would serve an African prince's pleasures and bear him heirs. He spoke of her belly swollen with dark-skinned African princes seed she would look down at first heir sucking on her engorged breast. Teresa would only purr like a kitten as she swam deeply in her fantasy. Their fuck session concluded, Teresa gathered her things as was on her way in 10 minutes giggling as she felt Mikes cum dripping out of her and sticking to her inner thighs.

Seemingly in another world, not that far away down on the street in the van, a completely dressed and business-like Agent April Porter was waiting until they finished. Seeing the slut leave, she sent the plan into motion, called the messenger, and waited for the call.

20 Minutes later, Mike heard a knock at the door and wondered if Teresa forgot something. When he opened the door, he was surprised by the bike messenger's brown envelope. His first thought was he was getting served by a lawyer, then maybe Jamal sending him something? As he opened the package, it contained a cell phone and note. This must be Jamal; he thought...what are you up to? Mike pulled out the note, surprised to see distinctly feminine handwriting.

The note: Miek please turn off YOUR cell phone and call me from this phone at this number asap, this is quite serious- From Bluebird (April, chose Bluebird because of a family heirloom and she always thought it was pretty)

Down in the van, the other burner phone finally rang. Activating the voice masking app, April pressed answer and simply said, "Hello Mike,"

Mike responded, "What's all this shit about?"

April would explain, as much as she could quickly and to the point. Mike was dangerously unaware of his seriously lousy situation. She explained Jamal and his organization were about to get hammered, hours or days away from the most massive bust in Baltimore's history. She recommended he leave town within the hour so the task force would no longer have an opportunity to pinch him and thus use him against Jamal. He faced ruining his business and reputation if that happened. Leave his regular phone as if it had fallen off the bed below the headboard, powered on so it looked like he lost it. Then leave in his car and head to the coast for some fishing or whatever. For the next 24 hours, he would pay for food, lodging, and gas in cash only so her whereabouts would be hidden. When he got to the coast, call his cell phone company from the hotel phone and order a new phone. First thing in the morning, he would call his only his mom and top employees to tell them he took a much-needed vacation. If he was in town tomorrow, by lunch, his life was ruined.

Mike considered her words, realizing for years he thought that a day like this might come for his brother. Mike asked the one he knew as Bluebird, "Why are you helping me? What do you get out of this?"

The woman he only knew of as Bluebird told him one last time, pack, drop this phone in the ocean if she didn't reach out in the next few days. It was more likely she would contact him again via messenger if she could help more but no promises. She explained she believed he was a good man, there were many layers to her actions, and she hoped someday they would be able to discuss face to face. She just wasn't sure if or when that would be.

Mike told her he understood and would comply. As he went to ask her another question, the phone call had ended. Mike followed all of her instructions. Less than 45 minutes later, he would hit I-40 towards I-95 south, and be out of state. A week's worth of clothes in his bag and a lifetime of thoughts running through his head as he began considering beach cities, he might find good fishing this time of year.

A few days later. Mike's attorney was getting him up to speed. The FBI, DEA, and Baltimore PD wanted to interview him, but it looked like his attorney could shut that down. When that phone call ended, he looked down at the burner phone and read a text from the Bluebird saying, Take care of yourself. I hope to explain all this someday if I can.

A day later, he couldn't help but try Bluebird's phone once out of frustration, but the number was soon disconnected.

470 miles away in Baltimore, April was beginning the after-action reports and working with all the paperwork to turn everything over the various attorney generals that would prosecute the arrested. She took special care to review all evidence on Jamal in case she could help.

Four months later. Mike walked out into brisk afternoon air, almost knocking a bike messenger standing outside his building on the phone. Mike tried to adjust his sport coat; he paused when, after a few steps, he turned to look at the bike messenger he recognized from that night. Mike went to question the guy then felt his phone vibrating. He kept walking up to the messenger who was trying to leave, pulled out his phone, hoping it might be Bluebird.

"Mike Joyner," he said in a professional tone, assuming professional first at all times.

On the other end, April Porter stood in a suite Seventeen of the Ivy Hotel fighting dry mouth and her nerves "Hello Michael Joyner, have a caught you at a bad time?"

Mike stopped in his tracks. "It depends on the nature of your call...Miss?" His question hung in the air.

"Let's leave it as Bluebird for now. I thought I could buy you dinner and share some stories with you, are you perhaps hungry?"

Though her voice was no longer filtered, it had to be his Bluebird, "What did you have in mind?"

April smiled, "Grab a cab and head over to the Magdalena. Find a host and ask for the booth reserved for a Bluebird watching meeting at 6 pm. I'll join you there in 20 minutes. I'll have a special broach on my purse. I think you will like it."

Mike, "Done"

Shortly after that, Mike found himself sitting in the elegant restaurant Magdalena in Downtown Baltimore. He was anxious, nervous, and full of questions for Miss Bluebird. Since Jamal's arrest, three more packages had arrived, providing valuable recommendations that helped his brother's defense without breaking the law. Frankly, this guidance was the main reason his punishment was only 18 months instead of 50 years, and his brother didn't have to flip on his gang.

Mike looked around the restaurant, looking at all the faces and appreciating the décor, the ambiance, and attention to detail the owners had on the place. He sat comfortably in a reasonably private booth that Bluebird had reserved. Mike sipped water for a few minutes when he noticed the waiter approaching again, as this happened, he felt a presence. When Mike's head turned, he found a beautiful woman had somehow appeared less than two feet from him, almost out of thin air.

For a moment, he was able to drink in this light blue-eyed, raven-haired beauty before him. She was stunning from head to toe, filling out an elegant little black dress, a small shawl draped over her shoulders, a familiar plain brown envelope in her hands...but most importantly, her purse strap had a little Bluebird broach.

Jamal's Guardian Angel.

Before Mike could do or say anything, the waiter arrived and politely asked if either was ready for a drink. April turned to the waiter and requested their drinks, ordering his favorite Johnny Walker Blue and chilled Don Julio 42 Tequila with water back for herself.

As the waiter left, April felt like an idle school girl on a first date with her crush. Her right hand tucked some of her long flowing black hair behind her ear as she smiled, flashed those blue eyes at her crush. Mike hoped up from the table to help her to her seat.

He slipped into his side, smiled, and said: "Hello, Bluebird."

April smiled, "Hello, Mike."

Bluebird had arrived.

...too be continued

Please send your thoughts and comments to my profile.