Models and Super Spies Ch. 08

"Come on," she said, pulling herself up out of the water. Her energy was back. And that meant sex. "I'll give you the official tour of the house."

***

Vincent Silva watched as Alicia was led, naked, by the hand of another woman. The blonde was the girlfriend who never should have gotten away. The closest to perfection he'd ever seen. Intelligent, funny, genuine, and sexier than she had a right to be. And most remarkable of all? She pulled it off like she was just another girl, living next door.

And soon, if all went according to plan, she'd be his again. This time, no more Trey Kennedys would get between the two of them. She'd ascend to the top of the modeling world (with Gabrielle Dubois's mentorship). He'd take unrestricted leave from the spy world. And they'd live as a beautiful, successful couple in Hollywood's shadow.

If all went according to plan.

But first, there were a few things he had to deal with. Erin's list being the biggest. It had been a stroke of genius to set C.L.O.A.K. off on a wild goose chase for a catalog of CIA operatives. It served two different but important purposes: he could call his best agents to rescue the encrypted data from Erin and destroy any trace of it from her files; and it also set the cunning madam on edge as she worried that the CIA were on to her.

Erin could set LA on fire with her little list – ruin a lot of lives, including his own. A list like that wasn't safe in her hands. So he "leaked" to her that the CIA was watching her, even showed her photos of her meeting with Sarah Ellis and a few other pieces of surveillance he'd had done on her. He also offered her a plan to get the made-up heat off her: set up Alexander Mishin.

By the end of the week, he hoped to be in sole possession of her list, have Erin out of the picture entirely, and have Trey Kennedy take the fall for what was going to be a very messy aftermath. It was nice that his plan also freed up a soon-to-be grieving widow in Alicia.

Vincent glanced at the monitor. Alicia was lounging on the other woman's bed, stretching her long legs out before her. Her blonde hair hung dark and wet around her shoulders and her body still glistened with the oil she'd put on earlier.

Erin went digging into the nightstand as the younger woman looked on curiously.

"You've got them all fooled, don't you," Vincent said aloud as she watched the former supermodel remove a plastic dildo. She lures them in with your promises, and then…

"Vincent, Trey's here to meet you," Emily buzzed over his intercom.

Begrudgingly, he cut off the video feed, checking to make sure the red recording light was on. He could watch this later. "Send him in."

Trey had changed since the last time he'd sat in this office. Changed a lot. Vincent had seen him in his surfer boy disguise, but this was different. Trey didn't just look different. Trey was different.

His curly copper hair had been cut down close to his scalp. That change alone made him look far tougher than the soft analyst who'd made the deal with the devil. His beard and his sunburned face hardly made him recognizable. But it was his eyes that revealed just how much the past few weeks had transformed him. They were hard and wary. They'd seen too many things.

They were the eyes of a spy.

"What's up?" Vincent asked calmly, knowing this wasn't going to be a pleasant conversation.

"Why?" Trey's voice was soft, but there was an accusation there. Maybe even a threat.

"Why what?"

"Alicia. Why did you bring her into this?"

Vincent nodded. He was finally getting wise to the game. Trey had caught on a little faster than he'd hoped, but it this was salvageable. "We need her, Trey. You know that. We need someone on the inside to—"

"But you've got someone on the inside, don't you? At least one that I can think of. 'Kelly,' or whatever her name is. So why my wife?"

Vincent shifted uncomfortably. Because I want your wife? The truth sent a shiver down his spine. Because we need someone to take the fall for this botched operation? "Because she can get us closer than any agent we've got in our books. She's a natural, Trey. As an informant, but more importantly, as a model. A guy like Mishin would never have a clue she's on our side. All he'd see is a pair of legs and tits and dollar signs."

"Did you ever stop to think about what it would do to her life?! To mine?!" Trey stood, his face going as hard as his eyes. Spittle danced on his lips.

Vincent gave him a sad look, but didn't move a muscle. He appeared as calm as Trey was animated. "I'm truly sorry, Trey. We knew that certain… aspects of the LA scene might rub off on Alicia, but we didn't realize… it's unfortunate."

"Unfortunate, you say?! My wife is fucking other guys and God knows what, and all you can say is that it's unfortunate?!"

"Trey, sit down." Vincent could command a mule to move when he needed to, but it took two orders before the ginger-haired man settled back in the seat. "Alicia's decisions were hers. Not ours. When she's in danger, we've kept her safe. But she's a grown woman, and we're not a bunch of babysitters."

Trey pouted like a kid just told he couldn't have ice cream before bedtime. This would have been humorous if the situation wasn't so delicate. "The operation is almost over. A week more, give or take a few days. After that, I'll grant you a leave of absence for you to sort things out. But you're not going to fuck anything up until then, you understand?"

The agent rubbed the back of his scalp, feeling the short hairs of his crew cut. He wasn't totally convinced. "Understand?!" Vincent asked, raising his voice for the first time since Trey had come in.

"Yes, sir," Trey said, slow and resentful.

"Good. Now get out of here."

***

Sweat poured off Alicia's naked body as she rolled through her orgasms. She thrust her heaving chest forward, rocking up so that just the top of her head and the curve of her ass touched the mattress. Her toes curled; her fingers clawed at the linens; and her throat screamed itself raw.

Erin Small had been working on her for what felt like hours. Long enough, at least, that her strawberry blonde hair dried itself out. Long enough that the blonde knew she'd sound like a life-time smoker she'd be so hoarse.

The older woman buzzed her magical tongue around Alicia's clit just lightly enough to keep her climaxes stretched out. The 8-inch rubber dildo made sure that those climaxes kept coming. It felt almost as good as a real cock. The woman's mouth and fingers made her not care.

"I love your pussy," Erin confessed, keeping the slow thrust of the dildo going as she gave her tongue a rest. "It's as perfect as the rest of you."

Alicia let her body relax a little. As her back returned to the sheets, she realized how sore she felt. Or would feel, once she came back to reality.

"God, I never knew it could be so good…" the model panted. Her voice was definitely hoarse. "…with a woman."

As Erin kissed up her flat stomach, Alicia's abs danced. She'd be sore there, too, she knew. "Ah…" she sighed. The other woman had reached the slopes of her breasts, stopping there to suck on them for a moment before continuing up her neck.

"And this is nothing," Erin whispered as their noses nuzzled. "Now, we're going to explore my favorite number." A peck on the lips. "69."

Alicia felt her body melt as they French kissed. The cliché about the paradox of bad things feeling good enough that they couldn't be bad occurred to her as her first female lover repositioned over her, straddling her head with her slender thighs.

Alicia curled her tongue up along Erin's cunt, this time exploring in the reverse direction as before. First starting with the trimmed stripe of pubes, she skipped the other woman's clit to trace the tangy juices that had collected along her moist cleft. She felt Erin's moan blow across her own sex. It empowered her more. Lifting her head to bring the full caress of her mouth against her lover's pussy, she tried to mimic everything that Erin had been doing to her.

The dildo slid free, but was quickly replaced by three of Erin's fingers. A fourth pressed against her anus, greasy from spit and girl-cum. The blonde fought back her imminent climax, but knew it was as futile as an umbrella in a hurricane. As Erin pushed that finger up her ass, she screamed.

When sense and sound returned like a record being played backwards, Alicia found her face and head smothered in the other woman's pussy. Erin had sat up on her haunches as she humped the girl between her legs. The blonde could feel the other woman add her own fingers to the mix. Could feel her delicate joints stroke and dance every so often along her chin.

The touch strayed down to her breasts. Her nipples that couldn't get any harder got harder. She could hardly hear anything through Erin's pincering thighs, but she swore she heard a low, rhythmic grunting from the other woman.

Alicia's pussy pulsed with each moan she elicited from Erin's lips. She'd always gotten off on pleasuring her lovers, often cumming as she sucked Trey's cock. For whatever reason, with another female, the feeling of mutual satisfaction was so much stronger.

Unbelievably, as she dug her tongue along Alicia's swollen furrow, she felt her abs tighten with her pussy. She was going to cum again!

"Fuck, Alicia! Tongue fuck me harder!" The soft touch of Erin stiffened above her. Her thighs grew hard, squeezing her harder. "AH!" She let out a muffled keen. The blonde licked faster, her lips and tongue dancing like a troupe of ballerinas across the supple flesh of the older woman's labia.

Erin came in an explosion of grunts and expletives. She grinded her hips down onto Alicia's face, smothering her in her climax. When it was over, all it took was one pass across Alicia's clit to set her off. Erin went above and beyond. She leaned back down, grabbed the dildo, and rammed it into the model's tight cunt.

***

"Time for phase two of the operation," Vincent explained to Emily Lester, who'd come into his office once Trey had left.

The sexy "office manager's" eyes lit up. "Oh, I like phase two."

"I know you do," he smiled. She always made him feel like he was dealing with a wild animal, just tamed enough. And it wasn't just the sex. "Tomorrow night. You're going to go to this… gala thing that Erin's set up. You've still got access to the expense account?"

"I do." Her smile got even broader.

"And you know what to do?"

"Oh yes. It's making me wet just thinking about it."

"You've wanted to fuck Mishin since the plan came together."

"Someone jealous?" she asked, standing up in her chair. As she circled behind his desk, she pulled her short skirt up, exposing her garter belt.

"Emily, I need to make sure you stay focused. Too much is on the line."

She squeezed herself between his chair and the inside of his desk, lifting a heeled foot onto the armrest. The skirt slipped high enough that he could see the glint of metal where her hood was pierced. "Baby, I'm always focused. But why don't you show me how important it is again." She glanced down at his crotch. Vincent took the hint.

"If that's what it takes," he said dramatically, reaching for the zipper of his pants. "And Emily, it's really important." She giggled and crawled up into the chair. So much for getting any work done.

***

"I've had a wonderful time," Liz admitted begrudgingly as the limo returned to Alexander Mishin's mansion in the Hills. True to his word, they'd had a very relaxing – and more importantly, discreet – evening.

The restaurant they'd gone to was nearly empty except for a handful of the old Hollywood crowd. No danger of being recognized there. Alexander had ordered for her – something she hated, but also something Elizabeth Dean probably expected. They'd shared a bottle of wine and some very friendly, non-work related conversation.

Alexander even made her put her wig of straight, dark hair back on as she got ready. Ilena, his housekeeper, helped her with her make up as well as laying out an outfit for her. When she put on the slinky halter dress, she'd instantly suspected that Alexander had a hand in it.

When she came downstairs, fighting the desire to pull the short hem down to cover more of her legs, and saw his grin, she knew he'd picked it. But instead of protesting, or making a snarky comment about his misogyny, she just smiled and said she was ready to go.

By the end of the night, she found it even easier to be Mrs. Trenton Dean. She just hoped it would carry over into tomorrow night.

"Would the lady like a nightcap?" Alexander asked as the limo waited for the gates of his driveway to open.

This was where a little bit of Liz needed to reintroduce herself. She'd watched this man smooth-talk countless women into bed, and knew she was his next target. Yet part of her was curious. Part of her liked his cockiness; and the way he looked at her with those confident blue eyes was electrifying.

"Sure, that sounds lovely," she returned pleasantly, staying in the role of Elizabeth. She let herself be helped from the limo, slipping her arm into his like it belonged there.

While they'd been gone, someone had transformed the back patio into something out of a movie set. Paper lanterns marked the perimeter, beyond which the dark landscape fell, rolling out before the glittering lights of all of LA. She had a cocktail in her hand before she could even take it all in – a fruity thing with the soft bite of rum and pomegranate.

"I hope you enjoyed the evening, Elizabeth," Alexander said, standing next to her and enjoying the view.

"I did." She hadn't felt this relaxed and comfortable in a long time. "You're a real gentleman."

He smiled quietly, sipping at his amber-colored drink. "That means a lot, coming from a woman as stunning as yourself."

It was all a game, Liz knew, but she didn't care. And Elizabeth certainly wouldn't. "I hate that it has to end." She actually felt shy as she drank her cocktail. Shy! How long has that been?

"It doesn't have to end yet." She'd opened herself up for that line, and shivered when it was inevitably delivered. She let her glass be taken from her. She let herself be gathered into Alexander Mishin's strong embrace. "We have all night."

His kiss was powerful – a real man's kiss. The scruff of his unshaved face reminded her of Trey's kiss – or Trenton Dean's, anyway – only that shared embrace was a formless shadow compared to Alexander's. She'd patterned Trenton off of Mishin, yes, but she never thought such a man could be so authentically masculine.

Liz felt herself melting into Mishin. Their prime suspect! A man who could still very well be lying to her for personal gain. Not 24-hours, he'd knocked her out to a blow that was still sore on her head. And now, she felt her knees grow weak as his tongue passed between her lips.

He scooped her up in his arms and carried her into the house. She clung to him, arms tightly around his neck. She was a bride on her wedding night, about to taste the forbidden. About to be fucked for the first time.

They ascended the stairs on the way to the bedroom. Alexander didn't seem strained. In his arms, she was as light as a pillow. She nuzzled his neck, kissing the squareness of his jaw. It had been long since she felt so… infatuated with another man.

"I want you," she whispered as they entered the master bedroom.

"I know." He set her down on her heeled feet, collecting her head in his hands like an oversized chalice and dipped back down to her. This time, his kiss was harder, more possessive. She clung to his shirt, fearing that if she let go, she'd fall.

He untied the oversized bow that held her halter dress in place. She felt that thrill run down her spine as he stepped back, taking her in. Her outfit fell around her ankles, leaving her nearly naked. Exposed. She had on nothing but her heels and a lacy pair of black boy-shorts.

Alexander nodded in approval. His eyes centered on her full breasts and her nipples grew longer. He unzipped his pants, brazenly fishing out his cock. The gentleman was gone. But wasn't the womanizer so much hotter?

Liz didn't miss the irony of this moment. She'd been faced with this choice not one month ago when he demanded "loyalty" from her. At the time, she wouldn't do it then; wouldn't compromise herself like that.

Now, she knew what was expected. Knew it and loved it. She sank to her knees, staring up into Mishin's blue eyes as she wrapped her lips around his full cock. It curved up slightly, as if designed to be sucked. And she did her best.

"Oh fuck, Elizabeth. That's a good little cocksucker." She fell into a rhythm, bobbing her head along his length. Growing accustomed to it. She carefully played with his shaved balls, knowing how sensitive that was for a man and not wanting to displease him. Judging from his grunts, he seemed to like it.

Alexander unbuttoned his shirt as she blew him, stripping off his tight white muscle shirt with a dramatic yank. She glanced along his nearly hairless torso. He wasn't as beefy as Vincent, but on his slender frame, he didn't need to be. He had a well-defined chest that looked so sexy against his narrow waist. The long body of a swimmer. And while tattoos weren't normally Liz's thing, she got off on the inked artistry around his thick biceps.

"Play with yourself," Alex ordered, though strained. Liz didn't need to be told twice. She took her left hand off his balls and slipped them into her panties. Her balmy cunt cried out to be touched. She was soaked.

"Mm!" she moaned as she came, her cries vibrating around the cock lodged in her throat. Her eyes fluttered shut as her vision exploded with colorful pleasure. Alex's hand clenched in her hair, dislodging the dark wig as he croaked.

Liz felt his manhood seize and swell. She slid it out, tickling the underbelly with the tip of her tongue as she got in position to receive his cum. She had time to swirl the head once before her erupted into her mouth.

The redhead speared to fingers into her pussy as she drank his seed, her orgasmic pleasure pulsing with each salty blast. Alex flung her wig across the room as he finished, still hard. When she stared up at him, she didn't see the gentleman who'd taken her out. She saw a beast, ready to feed.

He pulled her to her feet and tore her panties away like they were tissue paper. She moaned at the show of strength. "You like that, Elizabeth? You like being dominated?"

She felt her breath catch. Her pussy started buzzing. Roughly, he shoved her onto the bed. She flopped on her back as he pounced, spreading her legs wide. His cock filled her pussy, splitting her open with hard, hot man-flesh.

"YES!" she cried, cumming again before he could pull back even once. She reached behind her, gripping the slates of the bed rest as she prepared herself to get fucked.

Alex stared down at her with crazy animal eyes. "Your cunt is mine," he growled, ramming his cock so hard into her that she grunted at the force. He pulled her legs to his shoulders, folding her tight body in half as he drilled her again. Her pussy seared. He was hitting her in places she wasn't used to. It was almost painful. Almost.

"God, yes!" she cried as they rutted away. His hard body grew hazy above her as she fought for consciousness. She felt so good. So out of control. Like a swimmer kicking on the surface of an erotic ocean. She knew she wouldn't be able to stay afloat much longer.

"Never!" he cried with a thrust, "forget!' another thrust, "this!"

She tried to say never, but her voice came out a warbled mess. Her brow was stuck in a permanent furrow as he gave it to her. Again and again. She closed her eyes, feeling the last bits of sanity pulling away. Nothing mattered anymore but her pussy and his cock.