Casino Royale Ch. 02

Sitting in a comfortable lounge chair, Chinese official Zhu stared open-mouthed at the beautiful stripper putting a towel over his lap. She had gorgeous long blonde hair that fell beneath her shoulders, which also wrapped her pretty white face like a curtain hiding the glorious sun. Her body was lean and toned, but not bulging with muscle. Her breasts were firm, small, and shaking along with her dancing. His eyes finally found her shaved loins, and her exceptionally sexy long, toned, and lean legs which supported her.

"What's your name?" he asked with a thick Mandarin accent.

"Blonde. James Blonde," she replied with a northern English accent.

Blonde danced provocatively for her mark, rubbing her breasts in his face while searching the front of his pants to triumphantly find a growing erection.

She then straddled the aging Chinese official and let him lick and suck her breasts for a while. She let out a fake moan of appreciation.

"That feels so good," she muttered in her sexiest voice.

She turned around and sat directly on top of his erection, and began wiggling on it. She twerked her firm buttocks against his erection until she felt him begin to naturally thrust back at her.

Now under her spell, she spun around, swinging a leg over his head so she sat on his hardness facing him. Wrapping both her legs around his arms and pinning him to the chair, she began to slide herself back and forth over the flag pole protruding from his pants beneath the towel.

Meanwhile, Zhu responded by thrusting up each time she slid over his erection, his penis desperately trying to poke its way through his pants and her towel to penetrate her labia.

James pressed her mouth against his and deliberately stuck her tongue into his mouth, knowing from experience that her mark would not be able to last long under so much pressure.

As predicted, Zhu suddenly began pumping up involuntarily for several seconds, then he stopped, trying to catch his breath.

James kissed him gently on the lips.

"I love you, James," exclaimed an exhausted Zhu.

"So who is your asset in Monte Carlo, lover?" asked Blonde sweetly.

"Le Chin Fei," blurted out Zhu, completely hypnotized by the blonde beauty on his lap.

James got up and walked away.

"Don't leave me!" shouted Zhu. Angry at her abruptly abandoning him, he stood up to chase her, and his towel fell off his pelvis.

As the entire strip bar burst into laughter, Zhu glanced down to realize the large and visible stain on the front of his trousers he made by ejaculating during Blonde's lap dance.

James Blonde strode into her spymaster's office within MI6 headquarters and nodded politely to the aging man seated behind the desk, whom she only knew by his codename: X.

"Good morning Agent Sixty-Nine Seven," X said politely.

"Good morning sir," replied Blonde, standing respectfully before her superior.

"Please James, have a seat," X said, motioning towards the chair in front of him.

Blonde sat down, causing the miniskirt she was wearing to ride up and show more thigh; X couldn't help but glance, she noted.

"We did some research on this Le Chin Fei fellow. Ends up, she's already a person of interest," began X.

"So we already have someone watching her?" asked Blonde.

"No. But Interpol has long believed she has been working for Chinese intelligence. She is a twenty-eight-year-old half Vietnamese half Chinese stripper born in Shanghai who immigrated to Monaco when she turned twenty-three, likely when she completed spy training," X explained. He then turned the flat panel display on his desk towards Blonde so she could see a picture of Le.

Le was a beautiful East Asian woman with long straight black hair, a light golden skin complexion, and a gorgeous face. Her body was similar to Blonde's, but she had large breast implants.

"We believe her mission was to bankrupt businessmen and government officials visiting Monte Carlo by luring them to a famous club there named Casino Royale," continued X.

Casino Royale thought Blonde. This was a strip club she had never been to before but knew it was a very expensive and high-class gentlemen's establishment.

"She was doing very well there. She lap-danced many industrialists out of millions of dollars, making it easier for Chinese front companies to steal their market share," X rambled on.

"But one day, she made a huge mistake and took the money to a baccarat competition at the Monte Carlo Casino, and lost about fifteen percent of it, which she now owes to the Chinese government. She needs to come up with the money quickly or she will face consequences from the Chinese Ministry of State Security," explained X.

"So why hasn't she fled Monte Carlo yet?" asked Blonde.

"China has spies everywhere. There's nowhere she could go to hide. So she has to get that money back," stated X.

"How? No way she could steal it from the casino or bank, without Interpol being alerted," Blonde reasoned.

"Exactly, so she intends on winning the money back in a lap dancing competition next week in Monte Carlo," X said before taking a sip of tea.

"What?" Blonde asked incredulously.

X navigated the web browser on his display to the website of a gentlemen's club named Casino Royale and played a video that explained the contest. Exotic dancers from across the world would be arriving at Monte Carlo to provide lap dances to as many customers as possible over two days. The fee per ten-minute lap dance was one thousand Euros, so even if Le was able to lap dance three hundred men, she would still be very reliant on tips to make up the lost money. What made it worse was there would be no stage shows during the contest, so contestants would have fewer passersby to dance for.

"We believe that if Le fails to raise enough money for China, she will defect to us in exchange for safety," explained X.

"So where do I come in?" Blonde asked. She had an idea, and it annoyed her a lot.

"We need someone to beat her at her own game. Humiliate her. The emotional low of losing a lap dancing competition, which she has never lost before, plus the fear of retribution from China, will push her to us. If she comes to us willingly, she will talk and we will have an intelligence breakthrough," stated X.

Blonde knew it. She became very annoyed.

"So basically you want me to lap dance more guys and suck out all of their money before they can tip her?" asked an agitated Blonde.

"Exactly. Surveillance footage of your missions indicates you are our best lap dancer. We know you can beat Le at lap dancing," X stated confidently.

"Why can't I challenge her to a game of high-stakes baccarat at the Monte Carlo Casino?" asked a very annoyed Blonde.

"We don't have enough money to buy you into such a game, austerity measures and all," explained an annoyed X.

Blonde rolled her eyes. X always had good excuses for stupid missions.

"Now go to P and get geared up for the mission," X said dismissively.

"I don't need to pee, sir. But I thank you for your thoughtfulness," Blonde replied sarcastically.

"No...not pee. P! Our head of logistics and gear. His code letter is P," replied a frustrated X.

After taking the elevator to the equipment area, Blonde found her beloved P, an aging and balding man with a kind demeanor. After some casual chit-chat, he gave her a luxurious Louis Vuitton luggage plus some other items in a Chanel purse.

Blonde went through her purse, and a sarcastic smile lit up her lips.

"Well thank you P. You remembered to give me condoms, birth control pills; everything I'll ever need for a covert mission," Blonde grumbled.

"Wave your hand in front of the luggage handle," P said flippantly.

Blonde did as he said, causing a secret compartment to open up. She reached in and took out a semi-automatic pistol from within.

"Now that's more like it," Blonde said enthusiastically.

"The compartment is X-ray shielded. Your car is waiting for you at Monte Carlo and your flight passes to Nice are in your purse. Good luck James."

A few days later Blonde was boarding her flight to Nice, dressed in a knee-length navy blue pencil skirt and white blouse. As she sat in her assigned business class seat, a man began putting his luggage in the compartment above.

He was tall and lean, with a clean-shaven face and short blonde hair styled like a model. He had a chiseled square jaw, and a handsome face, and looked like a model. As he sat down, Blonde remembered to smile flirtatiously to see if he was her assigned MI6 backup.

"Hello gorgeous," said the man; Blonde recognized the first phrase of the coded communication protocol she was to use to identify her backup.

"You're dressed like a million pounds," she replied, reciting the code phrase perfectly.

"You're showing ten million pounds worth of leg," responded the man nervously. However, it was the expected response per protocol, noted Blonde.

She then hooked her left leg over his right and whispered into his ear: "It's worth every penny."

With that, the young man took out his ID card and passed it to Blonde, who held it to her phone to confirm its authenticity. When her phone screen showed a giant encircled green checkmark, she smiled, removed her leg, and returned his ID card.

"Pleased to meet you, Mister Lyndon Vesperman," Blonde said coyly.

"And you are?" Vesperman asked anxiously.

"The name's Blonde. James Blonde."

After everyone was settled, the plane took off and Blonde enjoyed a relatively relaxing flight; she found Vesperman easy to converse with and very pleasing to her eyes. The plane was beginning its descent when the pilot addressed the crew.

"Attention all passengers. We are now landing. Please buckle your safety belts and remain in your seats. Once we land, there will be some inspectors boarding to quickly do a safety check before you depart. Once they have confirmed everything is fine, you will be allowed to depart."

Blonde was shocked; had Le Chin Fei discovered them? Before she left, X had confirmed that French intelligence and Interpol were expecting them and would not interfere with their mission. It followed that this unforeseen inspection was likely corrupt agents bribed by Le Chin Fei to prevent them from participating in the lap dance competition.

Blonde acted quickly by grabbing Lyndon's hand and dragging him out of the seat and towards the nearest bathroom cubicle. However, a stewardess intercepted them and tapped Blonde on the shoulder.

"Excuse me, ma'am, but we need you to be seated and prepared for landing," she insisted.

"Please, we need to go urgently," Blonde whispered.

"Together?" the stewardess asked incredulously.

"If we don't, we'll never be part of the mile-high club," Blonde explained quietly.

"Ooh, fine," the stewardess nodded quietly and backed away.

Blonde dragged Lyndon into the tiny cubicle and closed the door behind them.

"What are you doing?" asked Vesperman quietly.

"Quiet. We cannot let the inspectors know we are here. They were likely bribed by Le Chin Fei," replied Blonde as she began kissing Lyndon's neck while opening up his shirt.

"But why are we doing this?" asked Vesperman nervously.

"So they won't inspect us," Blonde replied while playing with Lyndon's nipples.

Soon their mouths met and their tongues entwined, and Blonde felt Vesperman frantically unbuttoning her blouse. Before long he was groping and fondling her breasts over her bra, palm bouncing all over her chest as the plane touched down on the runway. Blonde moaned as he cupped her left breast, then began exploring the rest of her smooth, lean upper torso.

Blonde used her fingers to trace down the center line of Vesperman's chest, over his hard eight-pack, and onto his belt buckle. She quickly unbuckled his belt, then unbuttoned his trousers, then finally unzipped them. Reaching in, she found his erection straining through his boxers and she pulled his one-eyed monster out from captivity.

Wrapping her fingers around his erection so that her fingertips touched the base of his shaft, she began to slowly stroke it up and down along the length. With her thumb, she played with his bulbous purple head, which was enjoying her ministrations.

Meanwhile, Vesperman's hand had moved to her leg, feeling it up until he had snuck it under her skirt and reached her pelvis. Then his fingers slid over her thigh so that his fingertips made contact with her panties. Blonde felt the palm of his hand press firmly onto the crotch of her panties, and she gasped with delight.

As Blonde focused on providing Vesperman with a world-class handjob, he was rubbing her along the length of her panty crotch, and the two were both breathing heavily, enjoying each others' touch. So much so that neither noticed when the airport inspectors opened the door of their cubicle, then closed it immediately in embarrassment.

Suddenly, Vesperman managed to squeeze a finger underneath her panties and gently push his finger between her labia lips, causing Blonde to shudder and gasp in delight, then collapse onto the toilet. In her orgasmic bliss, she released his member and focused on catching her breath.

Vesperman, embarrassed at their antics, quickly put his erection back into his pants and fixed up his clothes.

Blonde too fixed her skirt and buttoned up her blouse. She then quietly peeked out the cubicle door.

"Let's move quickly. The coast is clear," she said with a smile.