Liar Ch. 04: Lost

He had begun stroking himself while watching me above him. His mouth was agape with the view. The demanding words that came from my mouth shocked me. I didn't know that I could be so sexually aggressive. But I said it out loud. "Don't you dare cum yet. I'm not done!" It was in a somewhat demanding tone.

Without embarrassment I slowly squatted down until I could reach his cock with my hands. I gripped him tightly to keep him pointing upward and slowly impaled his cock deeply into my body. I was still wet from him and he slid into me gracefully until I felt his hilt against my clit.

Still on my feet, I started to shift my hips up and down gratuitously. My hands fell to his chest to steady me on top of him. My head fell backward as I rode him for my own pleasure.

He raised one arm above his head and tucked it behind him to help raise his head. I could tell he wanted to see the show as well as experience the sensations. I grinned to myself at that thought. Then I felt his other hand grip my breast, his thumb rubbing my nipple in gentle caresses across the tip.

The feeling of his grip on my breast sent a static shock through me. It was at that point that I vaguely remember the sensation of being completely free. I rode him and I rode him hard. I began grinding into him in reckless abandon as a wave of orgasm struck. I truly don't remember how many and how long it was. But I fell forward into him, my feet sliding back as I fell to my knees. I could feel wetness on the sides of his hips between his skin and mine. I had drenched him in my lost moments of sexual surrender.

Just as my face fell to his and we began to kiss, I could feel his cock begin to thrust up into me. Each thrust raised my whole body up as his firm torso bucked against me. Then he grabbed the back of my head and kissed me deeply. His free hand found my ass and gripped me firmly. His middle finger gently penetrated my ass ever so slightly. I could feel my flesh spread to accept his cock and his finger inside me. It was as if he was using his grip to force my hips down into his as his cock released in shuttering spasms inside me. I could feel his breathing disrupted against my mouth as his body writhed beneath me.

I squeezed his cock within me by clenching my muscles around him, feeling each twitch of his orgasm as it released warmth and wetness into my body.

Draped across his body I stayed there for as long as I could, savoring the experience. I didn't want it to be over. But I knew it was. Somehow I wished I could start the afternoon again and do this at every house we had visited.

We cleaned ourselves up and redressed. Avoiding any telltale signs of what we had done, I took some spray cleaner from the kitchen and I wiped down the coffee table with a paper towel. I even stuffed the dirty paper towel in my purse to make sure nobody saw anything suspicious.

After putting the spray cleaner away in the kitchen I went back to the living room and started to put on my jacket. He was sitting on the freshly cleaned coffee table.

God it was awkward. I didn't know what to say or do. I had just had random, wanton, unprotected sex with this man that I barely knew. Worse than that, I didn't care.

As I passed by, he reached out and gripped my hand. Pulling me over to him I stood in front of him as he sat there looking up at me. There was that moment of awkward silence. It's the moment between indefensible, reckless sex on a coffee table that led to a mind blowing orgasm and the moment our eyes meet his again. I was avoiding direct eye contact with him, not knowing how he would respond to me following our dalliance. He asked softly if I was sorry for what we had done.

I stammered a bit. Searching for the words to communicate my thoughts I started suddenly, speaking more loudly. I tried to explain that I don't just sleep around like that.

He stopped my thought before I could finish. He was so kind as he reassured me that he didn't think I would ever be that kind of woman.


But this time I interrupted him. I did do that, and I apparently am that kind of woman.

We both just waited in quietness.

Finally he spoke again to tell me that he wasn't sorry at all and that he hoped I wasn't either. He even said it was the most refreshing sexual experience he enjoyed in years.

I laughed it off, I told him not to over think it and that I wasn't the kind to do that with every client I took to a viewing. I smirked or maybe even blushed at the thought. Then I pressed him to leave because the home owners had only blocked out three hours to be away. Pulling at his hand that had taken mine a moment earlier, I pulled him to his feet. He mockingly let me tug at him as if he didn't want to go.

He finally stood up and moved closely to me, drawing me to him. We passionately kissed before turning toward the door. He hesitated when he reached for the front door knob and turned to me. He told me he would put a bid in for this house on one condition. He said it as he held the edge of the door in his hand.

I took a half step back and tilted my head in response. He didn't say anything at first so I urged him on to tell me his condition.

He told me he would put a bid in for this house at their asking price if I would show him five more houses next week. He grinned wildly as he told me he wanted to see one every afternoon.

The wicked look in his eye told me everything I needed to know. He had already told me that he didn't need to settle on a house and close for another four months. If he found a home too quickly it would become a problem with the lease on his current place.

He shot me a quizzical look as he tried to understand why I was questioning it in my mind.

So I told him I just didn't want him to buy something on a whim. Then I pushed further. I knew what I was saying but I couldn't believe I was saying it. I asked him if he wouldn't be better off if I showed him a dozen houses over the next three weeks at the same time each afternoon.

I searched his eyes to know if I was overshooting my potential. I even sarcastically commented that I wouldn't want to rush his decision. But it wasn't that. I think I'd make any excuse to see him again. I know it's wrong but I would.

He paused as a smile spread across his face. He knew what I was offering. He even said he might want to view homes even after moving in to this one.





2 - Caught!

I sat in the dim light of the confessional booth a bit stunned at the story being told to me by the soft, sensual voice from the booth next to me. Oddly enough the only thing that was going through my head was how grateful I was that the liturgical robe I was wearing would probably hide the fact that I was participating in a form of self-gratification that I'm sure would not meet the approval of my catholic hosts.

I was stroking my priestly staff with my whole arm stuck between the folds of the robe. Oddly enough the small, dark, booth had begun to feel a lot like a booth at the local x rated video shop.

"Father?" the female voice beckoned from through the lattice and cloth. I was about to respond when I heard the sound of movement outside the booth.

A hastened knock on the door shook my mental clarity as I heard whispers outside "Dear God, tell me he's not doing what I think he's doing!"

Ten minutes later I was sitting in the priest's office getting the most amazing ass chewing of my life. He took top honors away from my lead trainer at Quantico. Of course my FBI trainer was from Georgia. It's hard to take an ass chewing seriously when the person doing the chewing has a southern accent.

This priest ranted on for the better part of a half hour while waiting for a response from my direct report in Clarksburg. It's not that I had never heard such language or even the specific words this priest was using. It's just that I had never them in such colorful combinations.

By the time the phone rang I was looking forward to hearing my boss chew me out. She would probably be a bit easier on me than men who went to Catholic high schools.

...I was wrong.





Leaving the office still dressed as a priest I was resigned to the fact that I was being called back to Clarksburg for my misuse of the undercover position. At this point in my life I guess it was coming. The feelings of burn out were even more oppressive as I grabbed the last of my things.

The marble hallway leading to the office wing lobby echoed with the sounds of women chatting. Glancing down the hall there were several staff members in the lobby that I chose to avoid. Even in my burned out condition I'd rather not be the object of office wide gossip. So I turned the other direction and decided to leave through the main sanctuary and out the front doors.

There were only a few people in the sanctuary; most just doing what Catholics do. A few were kneeling in random pews and in the rear corner a photographer was looking for the right angle to capture the beauty of the space. Sunlight was beginning to creep in through the stain glassed windows so I could see his interest in getting into the right position for a good shot.

I walked down the right side of the sanctuary, trying to avoid being in the photographer's shot. Something caught my attention as I passed through the second set of pews. It's that moment of Déjà vu mixed with a memory of the past. I paused and glanced around trying to wrap my brain around it was that had drawn piqued my senses. 'Okay, it's just that I did an undercover op early on in my career at a Catholic Church in Falls Church, Virginia. Maybe it's just a flash of an old memory, I thought to myself.

I grinned to myself reliving the memory of that op in Virginia. It was the first field action I took with a new handler; Billie. She was still in my mind and I could get that woman out of my gray matter. Shaking my head to clear the cob webs I turned to continue my trek out of this place. I smirked thinking that my earliest field op was in a Catholic Church and after this screw up, my last op might be a Catholic Church.

Two steps further, I stopped again. This time was different. Billie! What triggered my memory moment was the smell of her perfume. Billie always used a very unique scent. It was something she discovered while in Paris as a college student and to this day, she custom ordered it as needed. It was distinct and nothing like anything she could find in the states.

I turned rapidly to scan the room, trying to see where it was coming from only to see a woman in a tight brown leather jacket leaving the sanctuary through a side door. She was moving quickly so I rushed to follow her.

Running down a side hallway and turning the corner slowly, controlling my breathing, I looked outside through a vestibule window to see her. In the parking lot, she handed a satchel to a tall man who quickly ducked into a black SUV that then pulled away quickly.

She turned and began walking down the street as if nothing had happened. Her pace was perfect, showing no sign of fear or reaction. It was casual as if nothing was going on. She was good at blending in during an undercover op. Nothing seemed to shake her. I've never known anyone who could maintain their legend under pressure like Billie. But her pace and the sway of her hips gave her away. I knew it was pure Billie. She always had an aggressive swagger as she walked. She was always confident, strong, and in control. It was Billie. It had to be.

"Billie!" I shouted out toward the figure as I passed through the front doors and into the parking lot.

Her pace hesitated and the swagger disappeared. I could see the form of the woman stiffen and begin walking a bit more quickly. So I picked up the pace and began following, trying to catch up.

The form turned the corner and I ran to catch her. I knew that if it was Billie she would... I turned the corner and my fears were correct. She was gone. Nobody could shake a tail like Billie; in more ways than one.





Confused and dazed by the morning's events I went back to the hotel where I had been staying. I had to ditch the priest garb, change into street clothes and find her. Yeah, I was about to blow off the orders I had to return to Clarksburg. Maybe not ignore them but stretch it. They didn't tell me when I needed to be back in Clarksburg. I was just told to go back to Clarksburg and report in.

Cramming my things together in my suitcase, I ran my fingers through my hair. It felt good to be out of the priest's robe. My shirt was still on the hanger flung on the bed. Out of the disheveled mess of my luggage I found socks and boxers. The socks I tossed on top of the shirt. The boxers were at my ankles being pulled upward when a knock on the door startled my attention.

I looked through the peephole to see a woman in dark glasses, with short cropped hair.

"Let me in shithead," Billie said sternly to the other side of the door.

The latch had barely been turned when she barged her way into the room.

"Of all the lame-brained, half-assed, dip-shit things you've ever done this one ranks up there with the best." She ranted as she passed by me and on into the room.

"Billie, what the hell is going on?" I demanded. "How the hell did you find me?"

"I'm a fuckin' undercover field agent who's fuckin' trained to find people you shithead!" She barked back.

I gave a mocking laugh at her comment. Sarcasm was a gift of God in my life. It was partially out of utter frustration and anger at her for leaving me, leaving me hurting and alone, not to mention lying to me for months.

"Laugh it up furball. You just about blew a year and a half of undercover work by showing up here." She furrowed her brow trying to look stern but all I could see was the woman that I've loved for nearly ten years who left me and married someone else.

"Just what the hell are you doing here, screwing up my op?" She demanded.

"YOUR op?" I asked. "Don't you mean MY op?" I replied.

"MY op you shithead." It was so good to hear her call me that again. Just like old times.

"I'm on an op assigned by the Clarksburg Bureau chief herself." I retorted. "If there was another op going on, I'm pretty sure she would have known about it and briefed me. No other FBI ops are going on here!" I said, falling back into FBI agent mode.

"Yeah, well, I don't work for the FBI shithead. I work for the CIA." She stated matter of factly while throwing her shoulder bag on the bed.

"What the hell?" Not the most brilliant response but the it's the only response I could think of at the time.

"So you think I 'took a trip' just to leave the FBI and sit on a beach somewhere? Hell no. I left the FBI and had my records cleansed to go on this op as a CIA assignment. The 'Clarksburg Bureau chief herself', wasn't read into this one." She explained.

"So the shady characters that I'm here to observe ... you're one of them? CIA doesn't have jurisdiction inside the US." I asked and asserted.

"I already had an in with this mob boss from a covert operation I handled back in 2007. I was chosen to follow through with this one since I already had street creds. I've infiltrated a group of international arms dealers that are laundering cash through small time drug king pins in cities like this. They're piecing up the cash and moving it around to fly under the radar of the CIA.

The local boys are getting uncomfortable with this thing getting out of hand. Dealing a few drugs and covering some protection money is one thing. But letting international arms dealers come into their town, taking over their business put the fear of God in them. The mob called us. We're after the international targets, not a small time boss in Milwaukee. I assumed somewhere along the way I'd find a suspicious FBI agent but I never imagined it would be you." She said as her voice tailed off.

When she turned her back on me and drove off with her new husband that she forgot to mention to me, my world ended. From that moment, my whole life had been falling apart. My work suffered, the potential of happiness with Jessica was always dampened, and I felt incomplete.

"You didn't trust me enough to tell me that you were leaving. I meant that little to you?" I demanded answers. Deep down inside, I thought I deserved them. But Billie wasn't answering. She wouldn't even look me in the eye.

"So you disappeared for this? And your husband?" I barely could say the word husband. It stuck in my throat like phlegm. "What's he got to say about you going up against a drug cartel?" I mockingly threw out. Deep down inside I was bringing up her husband to get back at her, to throw it in her face that she had left me.

"I didn't marry him. God, you are a bit slow aren't you?" She said with tone of frustration. "He was my fuckin' cover. He's my handler you ass hole!" She barked back.

"This whole time it was an act?" I asked with an admitted shock in my voice.

Suddenly the confident, swagger walking, FBI agent seemed morose as she paced back and forth. She broke every rule of an undercover agent and professional liar. She wouldn't look at me, her movements all indicated total honesty, and her voice seemed to crack at times.

"After you took off for your long op and then finally wandered back into my life in Pittsburgh, I was already committed. I was committed to the CIA. The plan was already in the works. We were just waiting for the right timing. They had this fake marriage thing all lined up. They had given me the timeline for my extraction from the FBI. There was this deadline that would only work if I left that day. It included the cleansing of my records and coincided with all the IDs, dates, records, you name it; of my new legend." She seemed to ramble as she spoke, pacing and gripping her forehead.

She stopped the side to side pace and looked me in the eye. "When you showed up before the Pittsburgh op, it caused a complication. But it turned out that you're return actually helped me disappear. It made it look like I left the FBI because I was now married and didn't want to have to face an old lover every day." Her voice was softening as she explained her transition.

"What you're telling me is that ..." I started somewhat stunned at her story.

"It's all a freakin' legend, Max." Billie sat down slowly and a bit tearfully on the edge of the bed before looking away toward the window. It was then that I realized the whole picture. She didn't leave me. She was following orders. I left her by running into the arms of Jessica after the Pittsburgh action.

I sat down next to her. The room became awkwardly quiet as we both tried to wrap our minds around our new reality.

"Max, I didn't want us to end the way we did." She began still looking away from me as tears formed in her eyes. "I didn't want to hurt you. But when you were gone, I thought it was for good, so I said yes to this whole thing."

"Billie, I don't know what to say." I started to put my arm around her but thought better of it.

"Yeah. I get it." She straightened before speaking in a more resolute tone. "You came back and wanted us to be together again. I was already living a fake life as a married woman. So you choose Jessica instead. Guess I deserve it... you didn't wait around and hope I'd change my mind." She paused, then spoke quietly now. "If it means anything to you, I didn't want to leave you. If I had it my way, we'd still be together screwing up operations because we're too busy screwing around in the hotel room." She laughed to herself recalling our biggest snafu of our careers.

"Billie, " I started to speak but she interrupted and started to stand.

"I just hope you're happy with Jessica." She said resolutely, wiping a tear from her cheek.

I grabbed her arm and pulled her back down. "Don't leave like this."