It Ain't Paranoia if... Pt. 02 Ch. 06

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From celebration to torture and death.
15.2k words
4.75
11.8k
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Part 11 of the 15 part series

Updated 06/15/2023
Created 11/20/2021
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Texican1830
Texican1830
1,478 Followers

Just a few reminders before you decide whether to read on. There is no sex between people under 18; this is the fifth chapter of part two of a fantasy/action/adventure series, so beginning here will only confuse you. Likewise, if you prefer realism over fantasy, this is not for you; suspend reality if you read on. No pathos in this chapter either, my friends.

I edit my own work, so, even though I go through it twice after I finish, I probably missed a few pronoun/antecedent agreements, misspellings and homonyms, tense changes, left in/out a word, and didn't correct one or more grammatical errors. Try to look past them if you can.

I appreciate constructive criticism and other comments, but I will delete comments by and block trolls.

Here's a couple of thoughts, Anonymous: it's a free amateur site, and you get what you pay for; or publish a few of your own so we can learn to do it right.

At the end of part 2.5, Rob, Ashley, and others were in Budapest, Hungary, preparing to close a deal that would allow an American oil company to recover orphaned oil and gas in Eastern Hungary. Ashley and Rob try each other on for size and compatibility, and find they are well suited. Part 2.6 begins the next day.

****

We parked at the hotel and walked down the block to a bar Al was familiar with, where we met seven more of his "cousins". In Tex-Mex, "primo" is code for kin of any degree; apparently, that's "cousin" here. They were well aware of and very supportive of Al's efforts to begin laying pipeline and developing new fields in their country, and appreciative of the jobs that would be created.

Their support was nice on the one hand, worrisome on the other.

Sometimes public awareness is good, and sometimes it becomes a problem during the negotiation phase; it depends on how the government wants to play it, and whether someone powerful has an ox getting gored, or fattened.

One older, distinguished-looking gentleman, introduced as Ferenc Varga, caught my attention because he retained a neutral expression during what I feared was a premature celebration. I stayed on the periphery of the discussion and celebration, and Ashley correctly read my reservation. Instead of joining in, she began a conversation with two female cousins about the places we had visited and other sites / sights we should see.

Al and his cousins didn't seem to notice our reticence and partied on.

A few minutes later, with everyone at the table engaged in conversation, the distinguished gentleman looked at me, and rolled his eyes toward the restroom. I gave the slightest of nods, stood, and excused myself. He was still seated when I left, but was beside me at the next urinal within a minute.

"We can talk in here; will your men will make sure we're alone?" he asked. I nodded.

"My new American friend, all is not as it seems. Your ministry contacts are as much in the dark as you, but I expect them to become aware of the problem tomorrow or the day after. It is doubtful that you will be informed before the dinner party tomorrow night, but perhaps the next day.

We do not have much time to talk because we are being watched from the building across the street, but I want to warn you. There is another party, a very highly placed party, who is now involved, and he has a different agenda. Before this lease moves forward, you will be forced to negotiate with him about the gas fields and pipeline right of ways.

"But the gas fields aren't the heart of the problem, my friend. I hear that you did something in the past to thwart the strongman's plans, and he is determined to exact his revenge. My sources are trying to learn more, but without drawing suspicion; he is a very dangerous man!

"When I know more, I will find a way to inform you."

"What I'm certain of is that your life is in danger, and that my life is endangered if he finds out I warned you. It is my respect for Al and his respect for you that causes me to risk my own life tonight.

"Now, we will leave this room as comrades and we will return to laugh and talk with the others until the party ends. But after that, my young friend, you will need to either abandon this deal and leave this part of Europe, or be on the highest alert. Your enemy is a most powerful and ruthless man, and his power transcends state boundaries."

We left, laughing and talking about the city as if we were having a grand old time, and returned to the premature celebration of our success.

I firmly believed we had negotiated a great deal for both parties, and so did our hosts. We had been assured this very afternoon that it was a done deal, and had been informed that they were throwing a dinner party in our honor tomorrow night in the palace ballroom. We were warned it would be "continental formal" and that one or more top government officials would be there in addition to perhaps a hundred important guests from the private sector.

Such a dinner meant our business celebration was a political celebration as well; we had earned the open support of the heads of state! That was a game-changer - more than we had hoped, almost as much as much as we had dreamed.

Ferenc shattered that dream in the restroom, but I needed to keep the others in the dark and make whatever plans I could to overcome the opposition we suddenly faced.

After all, it was me that was the problem; more specifically, it was me he wanted to kill, according to Ferenc.

I pasted on my best happy face and engaged in the conversation.

The members of our four-man security team were not drinking tonight, and they were on high alert.

Perhaps it was my split focus, perhaps I let my guard down a little, or perhaps it was her feminine feline instincts, but I saw Ashely watching me appraisingly with a hint of concern.

I picked up my game; now is not the time to raise anxieties.

The party broke up within the hour, and we agreed on the way back to the hotel that tomorrow would be used to catch up on other business matters, or free time, depending on your circumstances.

I was concerned and distracted by Ferenc's warning, but Ashely was not to be denied. I had just begun my shower when she entered the spray, and set about making sure I was very clean. I returned the favor, even checking the insides of her vagina to ensure it was clean and tasty. She wiggled, squirmed, held my head in place, and made purring noises.

Those changed to yelps and squeals when my soapy finger penetrated her anus, to a muffled scream when my finger and thumb pulled and twisted her hard nipples, and to a high keening cry when her body quivered and shook in climax.

She was so sensitive, it was almost too easy.

She recovered quickly, and pounced as soon as I lay down on the bed, her fiery mouth suddenly encompassing my swollen cock. I dragged her perfect ass around and forced her to kneel above me, pulled her pussy down onto my face, and gave as good as I got. Or maybe better; she came before I did, came again a few minutes later, and had to fight her way loose to escape my questing mouth and fingers after the third set of spasms rocked her taut body.

Her whole body is an erogenous zone, but her tight little rosebud is ground zero, and I love probing it!

"I know you haven't cum yet, but give me just a moment to recover!" she begged. "It's been so long since I've had sex, and no one has ever played me like you do! None of my other lovers had your skills, so I feel like the student of a maestro!"

"Then you are by nature the hottest fuck in the world, Ash! I've had a few more women than you've had men, but none with your eagerness, sensitivity, strength, and athleticism. It's as if you are made for sex!"

"I don't doubt that," she moaned as my hands roamed her luscious body. "Once I get turned on, I can't turn off; I just want more and more and more!"

With that proclamation, she climbed on top of me, slid her pussy over my cock, and wiggled, swirled, and worked her way down until our pubic bones were grinding together. She was sitting almost straight up, so I reached up to grasp one tit with my right hand, and fished for her little starfish with the other.

Her hips were circling, sliding back and forth, and grinding our pubis together. The constant movement made it hard to find and penetrate her back door, but once I did she moaned loudly and leaned over to present her breasts to my mouth.

I knew she was multi-orgasmic, but how many times can a girl orgasm before collapsing? Quite a few, as it turns out, and that last one was so powerful it sucked all the fluids out of my balls, prostate, and other contributing glands!

She lies still now, although her pussy is still pulsating. I let her lay on top of me while I get my heartrate under control, but continue to make circles with the two fingers embedded in her rear. That makes her pussy pulsate faster, and a moan escapes. Astoundingly, those things harden my cock, and I push up into her to test her response. I'm not usually up for back-to-back, but she feels so damn good!

She's a sex machine now; up and down, back and forth, grinding against me! Her orgasms seem to be training now, one coming only minutes after another. I stop that by inserting a third finger in her nether region, which causes a shriek, a flood, and a collapse.

Single-mindedly, I roll her onto her stomach, raise her hips and stuff a big pillow under them, push her legs apart, and lay on top of her with my cock splitting those perfect apple cheeks.

She moans a little when my cockhead finds her sensitive hole, and much more loudly as it penetrates through the rings. "Oh god!" she moans. "I've never..."

Honestly, anal is way down my list with most women, but for some reason, I REALLY want to fuck Ashley's tight little ass! Maybe it's the perfection of her body - especially her ass and legs - or maybe it's the way she goes nuts with my finger(s) in her anus, or how the whole sleeve tightens down when she cums.

Regardless, I have to have her it, and I'm nearly past the gates. I pull out a bit, and slide back in; she's slick back there, and it's easier each time. From the moans, groans, and whimpers, I can't tell if I'm hurting her or she's loving it, so I ask. "Am I hurting you?"

"Huh, hug... no, don't stop! It hurts but it feels too good. Fuck me honey, fuck my virgin ass! Make me scream!"

And so I do, until she does, and then I do.

If last night was gold medal sex, tonight had to be world record sex!

I get up, clean up, use a warm wet washcloth to clean her up, flip her over, and carry her to the other room. These sheets, and one pillow, are ruined.

****

There was a lot on my mind last night, but I slept well; I guess being exhausted will do that to you. I'm really glad Felix has been pushing my conditioning, because having sex with Ashley is as physically trying as a wrestling match without rounds.

Speaking of, she still sleeping and she's lost the top sheet, so I can see all of that splendid body. Junior starts stiffening, making me hurry back to my room. If I start that again, nothing will get done today, and there is a lot to get done!

A quick shower, a pot of stout coffee, and I'm on the phone to DC, where it's already afternoon. I don't know whether we have a secure line, so our conversation is limited to an update on the negotiations and a careless aside that I have to run over to the embassy in an hour to pick up a package. His response is to wish me well.

After leaving a note for Sleeping Beauty, I call Clay and tell him I need to run by the embassy to pick something up. He says he and Felix will take me; seconds later there is a light knock on the door, and I go down the elevator with them. Felix sweeps the car for recorders and bombs, and we head out.

"What's going on, Boss?" Clay asks.

"I'm not real sure, but I got a warning last night from Ferenc that I need to look into. I may be here for a while, so why don't y'all come in with me?"

Mostly, I needed to use one of the secure lines at the embassy, and the liaison assigned to us let me know Tom had already set that up. I immediately opened up to him and those he had gathered, including Randy Howard, Don of the stone face, and a man introduced only as "David from Homeland". I laid out what I'd been told and by whom; they all seemed to know Ferenc, and his warning was considered credible.

I answered questions and asked questions, the most important being "who is this guy that want's to kill me?" No one would venture a name or a guess, but they asked that I go carefully about my business and come back to the embassy tomorrow morning at the same time.

"Sweep the room carefully when we get back, and set up the noise and jammer. We need to talk. Not Al, but everyone else."

Ashley, in jeans and a hoodie, met us at the door; I signaled to be quiet while Charlie swept twice, using different devices, and then turned on the jammers and white noise machine.

Ash had fresh coffee ready; we poured and sipped while Charlie did his thing, and then took seats around the table. I told them what Ferenc said last night, and about the conversation with Tom Yonkers, Randy Howard, "Don", and "David." Clay wanted to have Claude send more security personnel, but after considering the pros and cons, we decided against it - for now.

"A force of a dozen or a score isn't going to change the situation we are up against, in a country more closely aligned to Russia than the west. We need to be the perfect guests until this thing plays out. Maybe Ferenc is wrong, maybe he's right. But until we're better informed, gathering information is preferable to trying to anticipate the moves of some unknown hoodlum."

"I accept that, Rob, but four of us have little chance if they do try to kill you, or all of us!" Clay argued. "Can I at least contact Ferenc to see if he can offer anything in the way of assistance? He seems well connected."

That is the compromise we agreed on, although I remained convinced our only hope for completing the deal and escaping alive is in the hands of Tom Yonkers and his compatriots - in Washington and around the world.

I made a run at getting Ashley out of the country, but the hardheaded wench flat refused, insisting, "As you say, we don't know the true situation anyway, and if anyone is in danger, it's you, Mr. MacGregor! I'm not going anywhere until you do!"

I thought we came fully prepared for a formal state event, but the standard for continental formal meant our security team needed tuxes, and Ashley wanted a dress and shoes she had spotted in an exclusive shop we had passed. "I intend to make a stir in Hungarian society tomorrow night; perhaps we can make ourselves so well known in a single night that it will be impossible for them to kill us with anonymity!"

Sounded far-fetched, but with her assets, who knows? Anyway, I needed an afternoon alone to catch up on business and personal matters back home, so I sent them out with the promise to remain in my room, not answer the door, and to use the several weapons they left if anyone tried to get in.

It was already bedtime back home in Texas, but I made a call anyway, hoping the kids were up. They were, and I kept them up well after their bedtime listening to their stories, and then telling them a bedtime story based on a tale I had heard on the tour.

Afterward, I wrote them each an email with attachments showing some of the sights we had seen and sites we had visited, with the promise to take them to Europe next summer. Then I prayed I would be alive to keep my promise.

That led me to consider their future with their mother in the nut house and me dead, and I fired off emails to Claude, Eva, and Doc. They were carefully crafted to downplay the danger and express appreciation for them taking care of the kids, while asking for their continued support of Grace and Dos as long as their parents are gone.

That done, I got angry enough to compose and fire off an email to Kaitlyn that might have been a bit harsh. Questioning her motherly instincts and love for our kids might have been a bit over the top, and the section calling bullshit on her supposed love for and devotion to me might have been a bit bitterly worded. Likewise, challenging her to get her shit together PDQ and get her ass back to the real world might have been construed as lacking concern for her mental state, but that was how I felt at the time, and she got a dose of emotions that might have been a bit raw.

Well, fuck it! She'd had almost eight months of rest, recovery, and rehabilitation at a luxury resort in Arizona; time to put her big girl panties on and face reality! A reality that may include being in the midst of a civil war and a memorial service for her supposed true love, but who says reality is always fun and games? I never promised her a rose garden!

Al called to invite us to go visit with more of his cousins, but I declined on behalf of myself and the shoppers, who still weren't back. I decided I could use a nap, what with the late nights and physical exertion I had been experiencing, so I stripped off and lay down. Napping on a bed in late afternoon is not my norm, but I had no problem falling asleep.

I guess Ashley checked on me and honored my state of being, because I awoke hours later with a sheet pulled over me, alone. I got up, emptied my bladder, and crashed again. It was light outside when I awoke the next time, and my watch said I slept more than eleven hours, which might be a non-hospital record for me.

A pot of coffee and breakfast from room service, and I was a new man. I hadn't heard from Ashley, so I checked; she looked delectable lying there in a negligee, but I needed to get to the embassy post haste, so I let her be.

We were ushered into the same conference room, but this time we were joined by the CIA station chief. Tom's room had also added a couple of unknown people, and all remained anonymous to me, Clay, and Felix. One of them was introduced only as an expert in Russian oligarchs; he had a thick Eastern European accent, perhaps Czech, and he gave us a name: Petr Volkov.

We learned that the oligarch that died in the unfortunate auto explosion, after buying Kaitlyn and our kids in Mexico, was actually a subordinate of Petr Volkov, and that he bought my family on behalf of Volkov. We also learned he was purportedly a close confederate of the most highly placed Russian leader, and that his reach did indeed defy boundaries.

That information was not reassuring.

The next unidentified speaker had an Israeli accent; he briefed us on the extent of Volkov's crime empire, his sway over various government leaders, including Hungary's, and about the firepower at his disposal. That ended all hope of somehow finessing the contract; he's too well connected to work around, and basically invincible if he decides to attack.

The final accent belonged to a stocky Scot, who smiled as he informed us that Volkov was scheduled to be at the state dinner with us tonight, and that he was going to deliver the good news himself, before inviting me to negotiate elsewhere. That was thought provoking.

"To clarify, is the negotiation offer a serious one, or only a chance to get me away and kill me?"

After a moment of silence, Tom replied, "We're divided on that, Rob. It appears he and the government do want the fields developed; but does he want that more than your head on a platter? That we don't know."

"Okay, best advice?" That began a second, longer discussion that ended with the Budapest station chief assuring them he had everything needed on this end, and Tom assuring us he would make sure everything was ready on the home front.

I'm not a fan of plans that depend on everything coming together according to the plan, but it worked in Mexico. Did we use up our luck there?

Texican1830
Texican1830
1,478 Followers