Spy Games Ch. 20

"Are you willing to continue?" I whispered, laying my cock against her back side.

"In my pussy please."

Five minutes later, Natasha joined Anastasia on the floor, panting in post coital exhaustion.

Kira Fedorov was the middle girl in the line of five, which put her directly in front of Popov. It didn't take long to determine that she wanted to be slow fucked. She didn't require an excess of foreplay, a rub here, a kiss there, all while whispering a few encouraging words. But when I got the snake in her hole, she wanted to go slow. So, I methodically slid into her tight little cunt, paused, pulled out until the head was only an inch deep and then repeated the process... over and over again.

I wasn't complaining. My erection needed a chance to take a breather ... I did have two more girls to go. And it gave me a chance to scan the crowd. Two of the Russian men were passed out drunk in their chairs. Two others were heads down, looking at their phones. The only one halfway paying attention to Kira and me was Alek Popov.

To be honest, he was mostly paying attention to Raven who was sitting on his lap. I wasn't concerned when Popov's hand slipped under Raven's panties, and she didn't seem to mind either. But when his other hand pulled her scarf to the side, wandered into the deep crevasse between her boobs and pulled out a necklace, I started to worry.

The first thing Mrs. Bancroft ever taught me was not to stare at a woman's boobs. She made such a big deal about it that, to this day, I only let my eyes wander below a woman's neck when absolutely necessary. That is the only excuse I have for not noticing earlier in the evening that Raven was wearing a necklace. Not that wearing a necklace to a cocktail party should be considered a sinful act, it's kind of expected. What concerned me was the particular necklace she chose for the evening. It was the dolphin entangled pearl necklace that I stole from Popov's wife, which we turned into a microphone, which Janis wore to her fateful meeting with the city council, which Raven obviously stole before she buried Janis alive, which was now in Alek Popov's hand.

Most men -- and when I say "most" I mean 99.87% of them --, when given the chance to admire a lady's necklace or fondle her boobs, would opt for the tits. Unless said necklace might lead you to the man with a million-dollar price on his head.

Not wanting to look guilty, I averted my gaze and directed my attention back to the lady who I was slowly but surely bringing to what might be the most momentous event of her young life. She had already experienced the first few tremors ... the mini orgasms that preceded the 6.0 Richter event. As tempted as I was to speed up the process, the damage had already been done. So, I stayed the course and, after another minute or so, took another peak at what Popov was doing.

The necklace was again hidden between Raven's boobs and Popov's hands were where they should be, one on her clit, one on her tit.

Maybe I dodged a bullet. There is no way a man as rich and powerful as Popov could identify every single piece of jewelry his trophy wife owned. Maybe he was old school enough to use the necklace as a ploy to initially touch Raven's breasts.

Or maybe I don't leave this party alive.

My dour thoughts were interrupted when Kira's slim pussy clamped down on my cock as if the San Andreas fault shifted and Kira descended into an abyss of pleasure.

Kira's final orgasm might have been the most powerful and certainly the longest lasting any of the girls experienced that night. The only thing that kept me from spewing a quart of DNA into Kira's womb was the weekly endurance sessions I spent with Mrs. Bancroft when we challenged each other to see who could make who cum first.

After I eased the nearly unconscious Kira to the floor, I quickly moved to the next girl in line hoping the last two girls could be more quickly sated.

Tatiana took a little work. But when I remembered that she was the only girl who seemed to halfway enjoy a back door job when they were performing with the Russian men, I took a chance and quickly had her panting on the floor like the previous three.

Anya was easy. I know, not a good thing to say about a woman. But let's face it, despite all their grandiose future plans, these girls were fucking for money. And while I doubt that most prostitutes enjoy their jobs, by the time I got to her, she was already soaking wet with anticipation.

Anya came the first time I reached around her and tweaked a titty. She came again when I suggested she was the prettiest girl in the room. She screamed out in delight as my still stiff pole made its entrance and, by the time I got the other ten inches inside her, she was begging me to go faster and deeper.

If Kira had the longest orgasm, Anya certainly was the loudest. Her screams of pleasure made Popov, Raven and the two texting Russian men sit up and take notice and even woke the two sleeping drunks. Two minutes later, after I had spun her around, lifted her off the ground and bounced her up and down on my over worked shaft, she gave one last high-pitched wail and passed out.

The now wide-awake Russian men gave me a rousing round of drunken applause as I gently laid Anya on the floor. I stood in front of Popov, with the five satisfied women laying on the ground behind me and took a bow. It was meant to be a theatrical flourish but, from the accusing look on his face, he might have taken it as an insult to both his and his men's virility. Not wanting to press the matter, I turned back towards the middle of the room, intending to collect my clothes and realtor before calling it a night.

Popov had other plans.

"There is one bitch left," he said while pushing Raven off his lap. "Fuck this one until she screams in pleasure, and you will be a true hero of the republic."

Now, the smart secret agent would have politely begged off, claiming to be beyond the point of exhaustion. And I would have. I didn't need to prove anything. Except there was one more thing I wanted to accomplish that night and Popov had just presented the opportunity. So, I again took Raven Hardwood by the hand and led her back to the center of the room. Tired of doing all the work, I relieved Raven of her already damp panties, stretched out on my back on a small carpet and beckoned the busty dark-haired beauty over to me.

Kicking off her high heels, Raven straddled my hips with her feet, squatted down over my crotch and, in one smooth motion, impaled herself on my willing shaft. Her admittedly talented pussy gave my overworked erection a couple of preparatory squeezes and then she put her hands on my chest, bit my lip, and gave me a tongue filled kiss.

"Game on," she whispered.

By all rights, there should have been a country western rodeo song playing in the background as she rode me like a cowgirl breaking in a wild horse, attempting to assert her will over mine. That's what this was all about. She was still pissed about the first and only other time I'd ever fucked her. Which happened the first time we met ... on the Cartwright twins wrestling mat ... when I brought her to a rip-roaring climax and then walked away.

Raven wasn't fucking me for fun. She was fucking me for revenge. She wanted to make me cum in front of the assembled crowd and then stand over my exhausted body with her arms raised in triumph. And it was working. By satisfying the needs of the five Russian beauties, I had essentially just finished running a marathon and Raven's little stint on Popov's lap was nothing more than a warmup.

Using every devious trick in her evil book of seduction, Raven was quickly wearing down my resistance and, from the determined look in her eye, she had plenty of steam left. The end result was a forgone conclusion ... until an unexpected troop of cavalry came to my aid.

Anastasia, the first girl I pleasured, was also the first to recover from the experience, closely followed by Natasha. Seeing my plight, they rushed over with scarfs in hand and soon had Raven by the neck ... literally. With Anastasia's scarf around Raven's neck and Natasha's hands keeping Raven's arms pinned behind her back, they were able to at least slow her sexual onslaught against my quickly weakening body. One by one the other three girls joined the fight and they soon had Raven trussed up like a Thanksgiving turkey with my hardened cock being the roasting spit.

Five sets of hands alternated between tweaking Raven's nips and clit while keeping her impaled on my shaft. Five sets of lips kissed the dark-haired woman where only another woman would know to kiss. And five tongues took turns licking the sweat and determination off Raven's brow.

And then a sixth blonde joined the crowd. Janis Moorehead, accompanied by Flanagan, had been patiently waiting in the kitchen ever since the Merryville crowd left. Sensing this was her opportunity, she snuck up behind Raven and took control of the scarf that was slowly depriving Raven's brain of oxygenated blood.

I could only imagine the temptation. Janis had a strangle hold around the neck of the woman who had done everything in her power to make Janis' life miserable. All she had to do was tighten the scarf just a little bit tighter, squeeze just thirty seconds longer and Raven would no longer be.

At Anya's signal, Janis leaned forward, whispered something into Raven's ear, and removed the scarf. The rush of oxygen into her lungs and blood to her brain put Raven over the edge and there was no doubt in anybody's mind that Raven was riding a tsunami of pleasure that bordered on pain.

I exploded just seconds after Raven, but it wasn't her powerful response that made me finally succumb. I was fine until Janis, stepped out from behind Raven, tossed her scarf to the floor and gave me a wink as she strolled out the door like strangling her lifelong nemesis was an everyday thing.

After Janis left the building, there are several seconds I can't account for. Or maybe it's several minutes. Anya was sitting on my face with my tongue deep into her puss when my balls emptied their contents into Raven's womb. My next mental picture is of all five Russian girls gathered around my prone body, my head resting comfortably in Anya's lap and Tatiana wiping my brow with a wet towel. Thanks to the girl's loving assistance, I was eventually able to regain my feet and then my clothes.

At the same time, Popov and a couple of the other Russian men were tending to Raven's still unconscious body which was laid out just a few feet from mine. Apparently, their prohibition on exploring her peaks and valleys didn't count if she was out cold. The floor was littered with women's lingerie, so we didn't even bother looking for Raven's undergarments. The girls managed to pour her back into her dress and then two of the Russians volunteered to carry her to my car.

Alek Popov followed us out to the car. Once his men deposited Raven in the passenger seat, he dismissed them back to the house and took a firm grip on my hand.

"You are an impressive man Mr. Seiman. I believe your talents extend beyond the business world."

"If you're referring to my dancing skills, I think I'd better stick to real estate."

Popov chuckled. "We will be leaving tomorrow. Please don't feel obligated to see us off. You have already done so much."

He gave my hand one last squeeze before I climbed into the driver's seat. "Goodbye my friend. I am sure our paths will cross again."

Popov closed my door and stepped away from the car, watching as I drove away.

There was a long bumpy driveway leading from the Russian's party house to the main road which jostled Raven back to the land of the living. I gave her a few minutes to regain her bearings before feeling her out by saying, "I thought the evening went well."

"Yeah, it was a successful party," she said in a monotone, obviously still recovering.

I turned onto a well paved county road and headed back towards town.

"While you and I were uh..." she stammered a mile or so later.

"Entertaining the Russians?" I suggested. "Or would fucking each other's brains out be more descriptive?"

"Either way, did you happen to notice whose scarf was around my neck?"

"Not really. One of the Russian girls', although I haven't a clue which one. I was a bit preoccupied at the time and, to tell the truth, they all pretty much looked the same to me." Which, by that time, was a blatant lie. But I couldn't let Raven know that Janis had shamed me into memorizing each girl's name and secret desires.

"You're sure it wasn't somebody else. All the Russian women were tall and thin. The person with the scarf around my neck was larger."

"Larger? Do you think it was one of the men?" I asked, trying hard not to laugh.

"No. It was certainly a woman, a blonde. I caught a glimpse of her as she walked out of the room. From what I saw, I thought she might have been American."

"Are you're saying a fat American broad slipped into the party, stole somebody's scarf and strangled you with it?"

"Not fat. But definitely bigger in the bust and butt than the Russians."

"Just because she had some meat on her bones doesn't mean she was American. I'm sure Russia has a few curvy women as well."

"I know she was an American because she talked to me."

"Fine," I said. "A well-built American lady crashed the party and joined in on the fun. Is there a point to this discussion?"

"I think I know who she is."

"Who?" I asked.

"She's ... she's nobody you know. A competing realtor from another town."

"Well, hopefully she was there for the fun and not trying to horn in on our business."

"Don't worry. If I see her again, I'll take care it."

"Good. That's why I hired you. I need a levelheaded woman who doesn't mind getting her hands dirty."

I wouldn't vouch for the levelheaded part, but she was certainly destined to get more than her hands dirty.

***

It was well past 1:00 am by the time I dropped Raven at her haunted house and drove a circuitous route back to our home. Not that I was paranoid. If Popov had recognized the necklace, I would have gotten a bullet in the head instead of a goodbye handshake. It's just good spy craft to never use the same route to your hideout.

I parked in my usual spot and tried to make as little noise as possible when climbing the front steps, not wanting to wake my housemates. All a wasted effort. Janis met me at the door with an accusatory smirk when I walked in.

"You invite me to a party, make me wait in the kitchen while you fuck six other girls senseless and don't even offer me a drink or a dance."

"Sorry about that. Duty called. But I'm available now if you care for a glass of wine and a tango."

"What do you say I get a rain check," she said. "After what I saw tonight -- which was absolutely amazing by the way -- I think I'd better get you to bed."

"When you say, 'get me to bed', are you referring to a good night's sleep or did you have something else in mind?"

"Sleep tonight. But I promise to take you up on your wine and Tango offer sometime soon."

The glimmer in her eye made the entire night worthwhile.