The Misadventures of Tiffany Jones

"Oh fuck yeah, how do you like that pussy?"

Tiffany ground her pelvis on her face and felt the long tongue flick at her damp slit. Ray was gobsmacked as he joined in and licked Tiffany with vigour. Both of them lapped away, their faces glazed with the juices that dripped from the puffy muff of the model.

Tiffany moaned and writhed, the feeling of her sensitive sex was out of this world. Her whole body tingled and she felt an orgasm rapidly approaching. Maria slipped off the shiny cock of Ray at that moment and stood in front of them.

She lowered her body onto the seat and assumed a doggy stance, facing the back of the sofa. She raised her ass in the air and looked over her shoulder and nodded.

"I know that Ray loves to do me doggy? Am I right."

Ray jerked his cock in his sweaty fist. She was right. Was this the real Tiffany? He came behind her and poked the head of his cock inside her hot quim.

"Ahh, oh yeah, mmmm." She sighed as he pistoned into her with both hands on her hips.

Tiffany lined up beside them and wiggled her cute derriere as she watched her rival get hammered. Maria grinned as she gripped the back of the seat and held on for dear life as Ray Jose fucked her ever faster. She tensed her pussy muscles and perspired freely as her climax hit her and she shuddered in relief.

"See, oh my, I, fuck...I can cum faster than you, oh boy!"

"Big deal. Come here, Ray."

Ray shifted over and penetrated Tiffany with ease, his cock was slick and glistened from the fluids of the quivering Maria. She looked hard at him, her eyes on his with extreme concentration. He soon picked up a frantic pace and his hips rocked into her cute frame powerfully. Her juicy pussy fit snugly around his turgid cock. Like Tiffany always did. Was this she?

"Keep doing that and I'm gonna cum pretty soon."

Tiff gasped and panted as she was slammed up into the back of the sofa. With his fingers, he scratched her spine lightly which made her shiver with delight.

After a full minute of fucking, the young fellow withdrew and looked over at Maria who was on her back with her legs up in the air.

"Come here you naughty boy and fuck my brains out."

Without any hesitation, he settled between her open thighs and held her by the left leg. His stiff prick slid into the hilt and as he began to fuck her his buttocks tightened as he drove in and out. Her breath became ragged as her body was mashed into the seat.

"You gonna cum for me boy? Are you there yet? Cum in me, give me that cream."

Her dirty talk inspired him and he grabbed onto her upper thighs to ensure his cock went inside her as much as possible. He pulled back as far as he could without leaving the warm confines of her cunt and rammed back home hard. Three more of these deep lunges were all he could manage and he let out a roar as his cock erupted and sent his hot white seed inside her. He pulled out after the first pump of cum and sprayed her cunt so that his sperm literally ran down her upturned ass crack like a river. Ray held his pulsating cock in his fist and swiped it all around her mushy cunt as the sweat dropped onto her belly from his furrowed brow.

"For flip sake, Ray. You still didn't make ME cum."

Ray looked up at the exact double of his lover. The words of this one sounded familiar to his ears.

"This is ridiculous. I can pick out the real Tiffany in a flash."

He rose from the blonde beneath him and stood up. His dick shrinking and still dribbling.

"You. Name all of David Bowie's record albums."

Maria shook her head and sat up, her belly and thighs sticky with cum.

"Records?"

"Come on. If you're Tiffany you will know this."

"I...can't remember..."

"I know." Gushed the other. "David Bowie, the man who sold the World, Hunky Dory, the Rise and Fall of Ziggy Stardust, and Aladdin Sane."

"Tiffany!"

Maria scowled at the two lovers who hugged and laughed as they reunited.

"Enough! This is absurd! I am Maria Ionescu, and I serve the glorious People's Republic of Zardania. You have impersonated me and stolen documents you have no right to possess. I demand you hand them back."

"Make me!"

"Steady on!" Said Ray on deaf ears.

"You bitch!" Hissed Tiffany as she made the first move, lashing out with her hand and smacking Maria across the face.

Maria's head snapped sideways, as she let out a yelp of surprise. Furious, she glared at Tiffany enraged. Her eyes flashed as she lashed out in return, her open hand catching the model on the cheek.

Before she could react, Tiffany reared back as her rival slammed into her. The pair of naked nubiles hit the carpet in a tangle of limbs. Still stark naked, Ray watched them roll this way and that, each trying to gain leverage over the other. Their long legs locked as they snarled and spat.

Maria attempted to rise, but Tiffany was all over her, digging her nails painfully into bare flesh.

"You bitch!" Tiff howled, as Maria's teeth dug into her left tit.

Recovering their momentum, they squared off. Shoulder to shoulder they pressed forwards, bellies, and pussies jammed together.

Maria moved menacingly to Tiff, clawing and kicking at her like a tigress.

The pair of naked females were in a titanic struggle, sloshing and tangling in each other's arms. Locked together, they bumped boobs and pussies and dry-humped each other to such an extent that with their sweat they were unable to break free.

What had begun as a fight for supremacy now became a dead heat as both women collapsed on the carpet. In their sorry state, they knew they could fight no more. They both got on their knees. Their identical bodies were grimy and tarnished and their breath came in heaving sobs.

"Got you!"

Ray came behind who he thought was Maria and threw a blanket over her. Exhausted, she fainted and splayed out on her back.

As he used some scarves to bind his ankles and wrists, he grinned at his girl.

"Anyway, I knew you were you all the time."

"What? You did? How?"

"Maria has a mole as well. Just under her left breast. You don't."

"And you knew that before? Yet still banged the pair of us?"

"I may be a bit dumb sometimes, but I'm not stupid. Turn down the chance to have TWO Tiffany Jones? It's a fantasy come true. Come on, babe. Do you think I don't know that you enjoy some extra? Like with James Gold that time in France? You had that smug grin after that meant you surely must have shagged him. And in Switzerland? Just how far did you go to discover who was Triple R? I thought it was time for some special time for me."

"Touché, babe. Touché. Now let me call Uncle Arthur and get her out of here."

Tiffany jerked her thumb at Maria and kissed her lover.

"Bathroom is free. Good night."

Jo's voice came from outside their closed door.

"Jo! I forgot about her. She must not have heard us while she was in the tub."

"Wonders never cease."

xxx

Chapter Twelve.

The 'Swinging Sixties' were a definite era in the history of rock music, especially in England, with The Beatles, Rolling Stones, The Who, and Cream making genre-defining statements and garnering numerous plaudits. By 1973, England saw another music phenomenon known as

Glam rock. A style of rock music that developed in 1971 and was performed by musicians in outrageous costumes, makeup, and hairstyles, particularly platform shoes, and glitter.

The charts were inundated with glam rock acts from such as T. Rex, David Bowie, Mott the Hoople, Sweet, Slade, Mud, Roxy Music, and Gary Glitter.

"I can't believe it, Ray. Bowie has retired!"

Tiffany was laying on her back, propped up on her right elbow as she read that week's Melody Maker music rag. The front page of which had BOWIE QUITS! in large letters on the front page.

"Uh, hing, argh!"

Ray grunted as he shagged the bubbly blonde missionary style with heaving buttocks and pelvic thrusts. The detached fashion model flipped a page and continued.

His hands clenched into fists as he wallowed in the warm wetness of her pussy that enveloped his rock hard dick. Little more than two minutes had passed before he realised he could no longer hold back his inevitable eruption. His hips thrust forward, trying to bury more of himself in her heavenly quim.

"Bowie said on stage at the Hammersmith Odeon, 'not only is this the last show of the tour, but it's the last show we will EVER do.' Wild!"

"Fifty, forty-nine, forty-eight. Sod it!"

Ray lost it and ejaculated inside Tiffany's creamy muff. He made three hard lunges as he came and then relaxed. As he popped out of the girl and laid on his back, she held her hand out.

"Be a dear and pass the Kleenex."

Ray sighed and handed over the box from the bedside cabinet. She folded up a tissue and stuffed inside her pussy.

"Very nice, Ray. Very nice."

"Hmm! Well, I liked it."

"Just going to the bathroom."

x

It had been three months since Tiffany had heard from her Uncle Arthur. In the meantime she had managed to forge ahead in her career as a model, not to mention appearing topless once again on page three of the popular Sun newspaper. This had led to her receiving several requests for her to appear in some of the so-called 'top shelves' glossy men's magazines which she politely declined. Full-frontal nudity was not an option at this time in her life. Apart from that, the breezy blonde had just missed out on an audition to become the new companion to Doctor Who, the BBC television show. Well, she and about a thousand other young hopefuls.

"Tiffany. How the devil are you?"

"Fine, Uncle Arthur. How're things in the spy world?"

"Hush, child. Not even on the telephone. Somebody might be listening."

Tiff munched on her breakfast cereal of Coco Pops and chuckled.

"Sorry, I forgot."

"Can you meet me in Trafalgar Square in two hours? It's important,"

"With you Uncle, it always is. Okay. See you in two."

Tiffany bathed and got dressed and took the bus to Nelson's Column. She soon saw her distinguished-looking Uncle feeding the pigeons with a purchased bag of seed.

"There you are. How lovely. Such a nice dress."

Tiffany smiled as she did a twirl in her plain white crochet and a sleeveless mini dress. She wore an accompanying diamante net head scarf that trailed down her spine.

"Thank you. Having fun with the birds?"

"No. Silly place to meet. Damn things have pooped on my new shoes."

The bubbly blonde took the tiny bag of seeds and tossed a handful in the air for the flock of greedy birds. As they mingled with the tourists and families, a gypsy type came up to them.

"Lucky Heather? Buy my lucky heather?"

Her Uncle waved her away and took his niece by the elbow and steered her away from the square to the entrance of the National Gallery of Art.

"We're not going in there, are we? Squaresville!"

"No, we can talk here. What I want to know is do you have the heart and soul to continue helping us? Can I trust you to do whatever is needed, when I need it?"

"You can rely on me, Uncle. I am committed 100 %."

"Even 'Distraction Technique' is agreeable?"

"What's that?"

He referred to the American CIA tactic where an agent might be presented with a task that demanded sexual or physical behaviour to accomplish results.

"We've been contemplating using the same diversionary theme in SIS. And the ideal subject has just landed in our lap. We have in custody a suspected terrorist who simply refuses to cooperate. We believe he has been supplying the Zardanians with an untold number of British weapons. We must find out where the consignment is stashed before it can be shipped abroad. He is as stubborn as a mule but we need the information by whatever means we have at our disposal. After all, it IS 1973."

"You mean to use my feminine wiles to winkle out the truth?"

"Precisely. We have a guest with us on loan from the CIA. Name of Tuesday. Rum name. Anyhoo, she will join you and show you how it's done. What do you say?"

Tiff spread her hands and grinned.

"Uncle, I was born for Distraction Technique." Answered the blonde defiantly.

"Splendid show. And, mums the word to your parents and Ray."

"Oh, for sure." She winked back.

x

Two days later, Tiffany knocked on the blue-painted door of the secret safe house of SIS. The door was windowless, set between an estate agent and a dress shop. The door was opened by a quietly spoken man in a brown suit. He asked her what she wanted and she gave him the password for that day.

"Bananas in custard."

He shrugged his shoulders and led her up the narrow staircase to an office where he told her to wait. The sound of a typewriter could be heard behind one of the three other doors. She sat on a plastic sofa and waited.

A face appeared out of the door where the typing had come from and a young female nodded to one of the other doors.

"You may enter."

Tiffany rose and stepped into a low-ceilinged office with a single desk and two chairs. The paint on the walls was peeling, and an official portrait of The Queen adorned one wall.

Behind the desk, Uncle Arthur dabbed a handkerchief across the deepening furrows of his forehead and looked balefully at her.

"You found the place then?"

"Bit tricky, but yes."

"We rent these premises now and again and then move on. Keeps the other side guessing. Tuesday is here. Care to meet her?"

"Sure."

The door opened and a tall brunette waltzed into the room.

"Good morning Agent Tuesday. How are you?" Said Deputy Director Webb.

"Never felt better, Sir." She sat up straight in the chair opposite him and peered over at Tiffany.

"Hi."

"Hi."

The special agent had a mild American accent and a soft voice. Tiffany looked into her big brown eyes and noted she had a very cute face, with wide eyes, a button nose, and full lips. Her 34C breasts were fully rounded and thrust up at the front of her blue jacket.

"So, you're in the CIA? How exciting."

"Not really. A lot of waiting about ain't exactly fun. Been too long since I saw some action."

"Quite. Well, Sorin is in the basement awaiting your pleasure. You understand that this is strictly off the record. Seeing how the matter is somewhat delicate."

Tuesday yawned and spread her hands.

"We're not in the Boy Scouts."

This was the oft-quoted saying from the Director of American Central Intelligence, Richard Helms, and he was correct. Boy Scouts did not bribe foreign powers, invade other countries, or spread lies.

"Corporate Intelligence is the covert action of investigating competitors to gain a business advantage."

"Well, this shows true dedication on your part, I'm impressed. Would you like to begin?"

"Now's a good time as any. Ready toots?"

Tiffany nodded on Tuesday and gulped. Uncle Arthur escorted them down a back passage and a dimly lit staircase.

"I shan't stay." He said as he did a brisk about turn. "Best of luck and whatnot."

Without ceremony Tuesday opened the windowless door and they both entered a nondescript medium-sized room to stand before a simple sturdy desk. Still bound and gagged was the spy called Sorin. Tiffany held her nose as the musty smell of the room wafted up her nostrils.

"Is your name Sorin?" Asked the brunette.

The hunched-over man with brown hair parted in the middle looked up at the attractive pair of females.

She spoke softly as he raised his head and stared at the ravishing woman before him. He stared into big brown eyes as she moved closer and bent at the waist to give him a wonderful view of her ample cleavage through her half-undone jacket.

"I'm Mindy, and this is Cindy. It's quite hot down here isn't it?"

Tuesday made a big deal of fanning her face and stretching out the collar of her jacket from her pale neck.

"The thing is Sorin. We were just wondering where we might locate the consignment of weapons. Would you care to divulge?"

The tied man licked his lips and spoke in a whisper.

"I will tell you nothing."

Tuesday walked around the chair, her heels clacked on the floor and her generous butt bounced under her tight-fitting skirt.

She made sure she paused with her back to him and rolled her hips in his face.

"Oh dear, what a shame. I was so looking forward to having a nice time. Maybe, maybe if I did you a favour you might tell me."

Sorin tugged on his bonds as the brunette began to undo the final buttons on her jacket. She opened the front to show the captive spy she had nothing on under it. Her bountiful breasts tumbled out and sat firmly on her chest.

"That feels somewhat better."

Sorin could not help but stare at her two enormous boobs with the large areolas.

"So hot in here, do you mind terribly if I remove my skirt? My thighs and crotch feel a tad sweaty."

Without waiting for him to answer she reached behind her back, pulled on the zipper of her skirt, and wiggled her hips to escape it. She slowly drew it over her shapely thighs until she stood in just her skimpy panties.

Sorin could not take his eyes from the captivating woman and felt a stirring in his loins.

Tiffany felt the same and watched in abject silence, fascinated by the proceedings.

Tuesday then brought her left shoe up onto his right thigh and dug the heel into his trouser leg.

"Like what you see, darling?" Her hand idly stroked her toned stomach and moved ever nearer to the top of her panties.

Then, she casually dipped her hand just inside the waistband and stroked her mound seductively.

"We could have a lot of fun if only you would tell me where I might find the weapons."

Sorin perspired freely in his grubby shirt and dark trousers. Tiffany saw he had an erection that was quite visible now to the two women. He let out a strangled cry as the CIA agent straddled his lap and gyrated on his groin in slow circular motions.

"Mmmm, I like that, you have a stiff cock, don't you. I can feel it against my soft, hot pussy. Can you?"

He certainly could and he ached for his trapped prick to be released. She began to move back and forth with her heels on the floor on either side of the chair. Her five-foot-plus figure and 110 pounds felt light on his body as she held him still.

"Do you like my scent, Sorin? It's by Chanel and has a floral fragrance, they tell me it drives men wild, what say you?"

"Nnn, nothing!"

"Really? Take a good whiff."

Tuesday trapped his face in her cleavage and rubbed her generously sized tits across his lips. He gave in and poked out his tongue and swiped at her soft flesh. Suddenly she rose and wagged a finger at him as if he was a naughty boy.

"Now, now, no touching until we have a deal, hmm? Where are the weapons? Then, if you tell us you may play with these puppies."

She cupped her big globes and massaged the ample flesh as she rolled her hips in a sensual slow dance.

"Wanna touch these big tits? They can be yours in an instant."

Her fingers kneaded the nipples which instantly became hard and she teased the hard nubs with little pinches.

"If you like these wait till I show you my pussy. It's smooth, juicy, and oh so very wet."

Sorin strained in the chair like a man possessed, tortured by the amazing beauty only inches from him. Her eyes closed, and her right hand snaked down the front of her transparent panties and found her hot cunt. The man watched as she delved a middle finger inside her slit and bit her lower lip as she moaned. She pulled out her finger and examined the moist shine then presented it to the bound man.

"Would you look at that! I'm so wet! I need a big cock to relieve me from this terrible ache between my thighs. That could be you my darling."

"Impossible! I am a realist. The Zardanian Government taught me much about the fluctuating nature of power. We must crush the rebels before they can be organised."

He averted his eyes in a vain attempt to avoid the vision of beauty. Tuesday took things further and tugged her panties down over her hips and down to her heels and then threw them into his face.