The Misadventures of Tiffany Jones

"Oops silly me, sorry."

He looked up and opened his mouth in astonishment at her puffy cunt at the top of her thighs. Then he dribbled uncontrollably down his chin when she shoved a finger inside her dampness and smeared the sweet fluid over her hard clitoris.

"Ooh, that's nice. You look so sad with your stiff cock in your trousers. Here, let me help, I'm not all bad."

Tuesday came to him as he looked up in desperation. With a wry smile on her lips, she unzipped the fly of his trousers and reached in to release his erection. He let out a sob as her warm fingers gripped his shaft at the center and started to stroke him with her slender hand.

"Now isn't that better? I can tell you're pleased to see me. Shall I lick it for you?"

Sorin couldn't take it anymore and yelled out.

"Yes! Yes! I beg you! Please suck me!"

She lowered her head so that her lustrous hair fell across his groin and placed her lips around the swollen purple crown. A low guttural roar came from the prisoner as warm breath and spit engulfed his cock.

She drew back and used the flat of her tongue to lick the underside of his fat shaft then swirled around the head as she gripped him at the base. Her eyes were on his as she stared at him. He was mesmerised by her as she puffed her cheeks out on him and went down about halfway on his stalk. He threw his head back and then howled like a wounded animal as the busty beauty stopped and held his prick at arm's length from her face.

"Would you prefer my friend? Come on, Cindy."

This was the moment. Tiffany's eyes focused on the big cock in front of her and brought her hands together around the base.

Her face came close as she studied the engorged veins and stretched skin.

She held it aloft as she gazed into the eyes of the bound spy and then, inch by inch, she closed the between her mouth and his knob. Her tongue darted out and she licked him on one side of the tip of his cock, then the other. His moans met her ears as she opened her mouth and took his cock in with an audible 'mmmmm' sound.

She sucked him with a passion, oblivious to the fact that she was fellating a complete stranger.

Tuesday watched his stiff cock go in and out of her mouth and knelt beside the English fashion model. They licked his shaft together, maintaining a coordinated sweep up and down each side of his quivering column of flesh. Before he could spurt, however, they both stopped and let his dick smack back on his belly.

"Wow, it really is hot in here. Maybe you should take off your clothes."

Tiffany took the hint and stood up in front of the desperate man.

She dragged the zip of her dress all the way down and let the light frock fall to her feet. She unhooked her bra and stood there in just her undies. Tuesday was wanking Sorin as they both leered at the pretty blonde.

"If you wish to continue there is one little thing I need to know."

Tuesday raised an eyebrow and waited for his response with his throbbing member in her fist.

The man exhaled with an audible hiss.

"The weapons are in the docks by the Royal Albert Dock. I shall give you the details. Just please tease me no more."

"Thank you, Sorin. Now we shall repay your cooperation. We play fair here in the Agency."

Her big tits jiggled as she pulled his knob back into her warm mouth and slid all the way down. He made relieved moans as she moved up and down along his rigid cock, swirling her tongue around as she sucked.

He pulsed in her mouth as she suddenly rammed his entire length inside her and held perfectly still. Her nose was tickled by his dark pubes and her saliva coated his cock. Then she resumed bobbing her head back and forth while he began to buck up from the seat the best he could.

Tuesday knew he was close to coming. One second she was sucking him and the next her mouth was filled with his hot cream. He came over and over after the first initial explosion and she just let it slide down her throat. Not a drop was spilled.

She turned to Tiffany and wiped her chin.

"Let's go."

The blonde picked up her clothes and made for the door, never looking back at Sorin who had his head down and was panting like a rabid dog.

x

The two women sat in silence in an Agency Ford Escort the following night when they went to check out the identified warehouse. Both of them were clad in black roll-neck jumpers and black slacks. Sorin had informed them that he had made the deal to purchase the stolen weapons in London two months before. They had parked the car at a discreet distance and had waited for two hours to see if there might be any movement. At two a.m. they made their move.

Tiffany glanced up to see large cranes dotted all along the quayside. They slipped inside by way of a side door. The inside was derelict and had hundreds of wooden crates piled ten boxes high and showed no markings. A forklift truck stood idle in one corner as they trod warily through the darkness, the only sound being their footsteps. Suddenly Tiffany heard a rustling noise and instinctively dropped into a crouch.

"It's only a pigeon. Let's have a look at one of these."

Tuesday prised open the lid of one and in the dim light, they saw rifles laid side by side in a bed of straw. The American picked one up and turned it this way and that in her hand.

Before Tiffany could utter a word the lights came on and they saw a group of four ruffians rush in.

"Hah!" Yelled one of the intruders in a heavy accent.

Too late, Tiffany saw a figure out of the corner of her eye to pin her arms to her sides.

As she struggled, the three others made for the American agent. Tuesday dipped her head and smashed into the one nearest her.

"HIYA!"

She then quickly kicked out her left leg and her foot connected with one of the others in his groin.

Then, she jumped up and unleashed a double kick right into their faces.

"OOWAH!"

The third came up behind her and she gave him a back kick with the heel of her right boot.

He was thrown back onto a crate and he crashed into it, splintering the wood.

"KAH!"

Tuesday twisted to her left as the two formidable attackers came barreling toward her. Two swift kicks to their balls and they both dropped like stones.

As all three groaned and held their privates, the brunette composed herself.

With careful aim she gave each powerful punches into their windpipes, resulting in both making gurgling noises as they crumpled to the floor

"Enough!"

Tuesday snapped her head up at the sight of Tiffany Jones and Sorin standing side by side in the harsh light.

The blonde looked at her with a desperate look in her doe-like eyes as she was held firmly in the arms of one of the thugs.

"Sorin! How did you escape?"

"It was, how you say, a piece of candy."

"You mean like taking candy from a baby." Tiffany corrected him. She got clout about the ears for her insolence and became fuzzy-headed.

"Now, just for old time's sake, my dear CIA agent. Please to strip off."

Now the shoe was on the other foot, Tuesday reluctantly tugged her jumper off over her head and stepped out of her slacks. Tiffany, in her groggy state, was rudely stripped off so that both women were now stark naked.

"Tie these two up."

Sorin threw down several lengths of corded rope with which the Zardanian thug bound the women with their hands behind their backs. Sorin craped two wooden chairs across the dusty floor and placed them back to back.

"Sit."

Both women sat on separate chairs with their backs to each other in such a way that the backs of their heads touched.

The escaped enemy spy looked on as his man meticulously tied them together with knotted cords. Their arms were pinned back to such an extent that their bared bosoms were made to thrust out. Their ankles were strapped to the front legs of the chairs at such an angle that their thighs were parted enough to display their unshielded pussies. Sorin leered at the bound pair of agents and smoothed back his hair.

"Well. Don't you two look a pretty picture? Cindy and Mindy. Trollop! I have no reason to cause either of you any harm. But I think a little tit for tat might not go amiss."

"Go to hell!"

"Probably will."

Tiffany tested the restraints all to no avail as Sorin bent down and dipped a fat digit inside her exposed snatch. She sat straight-backed and emitted a soft groan as he probed her pussy for a good minute.

"Nice and tight."

"Bastard!"

She gave him a steely look as he licked his finger. He looked around the clutter of the warehouse and found some workmen's tools. He picked up a sanded and lacquered hickory shaft and weighed it in his hand.

He turned away and then back again as he brought it down between Tiffany's parted thighs and directly on her exposed pussy.

"Shame!" She screamed.

Tuesday felt her shudder behind her back as the blonde strained in her seat.

Two more shattering blows rained down onto the tops of her thighs which quivered and trembled from the resounding contact. Her bottom ground to and fro in the seat as she firmed up her buttocks tensed and relaxed alternatively.

WHACK! WHACK! WHACK!

Three overlapping blows met her reddening thighs and sex and the bound beauty curled her toes and clenched her fists.

Sorin cupped her smarting mound and nodded.

"Feels mighty hot down there."

"NO!"

A second whack smacked against her tingling muff and Tiffany winced from the residual shock.

The hammer shaft came down across her tits next with near-perfect strikes on her erect nipples.

She shrieked as the shaft smacked on the soft skin of her inner thighs before he aimed for that proffered target of her pink slit.

Bravely, she took in great gulps of air and hissed back at the enemy spy.

"You dickless wonder! That all you got?"

SWISH!

Tiffany twisted and grit her teeth with every stinging blow that cracked her tits, which became two reddened points on her chest.

The fashion model panted hard, her superb naked form now soaked in sweat. He stopped and tossed the tool onto the floor with a clatter.

"You. Give me your gun."

The thug handed Sorin a Luger automatic pistol and he licked his lips as he came in front of the trussed-up American. He scrutinised the beads of sweat on her curvy body and his lips curled up into a wicked grin. He enjoyed the way she struggled in her seat with her back to Tiffany. He especially liked how her tits pushed up provocatively as he moved nearer.

"No. Don't you dare?"

As she automatically shifted her lower body, Sorin caressed her inner thighs with the gun barrel. She gasped at the touch of the cold metal against her soft skin and she struggled vainly as his face came close to hers.

"You appear to be quite wet down there."

As he spoke his digit opened her wet hole and he entered her up to the second knuckle. Her nipples were rock hard and uncontrollable ripples were sent through her loins as he probed the delicate flesh of her pussy. The heat from her and her muscular contractions against his finger made his erection jump as he considered how she might be like to fuck. He pulled out and watched with curiosity as her quim closed. Her eyes followed his right hand which gripped his pistol as it came closer to her face. He traced the business end of the gun along her left shoulder up to her cheek.

"Open."

Tuesday knew that this man meant business despite his words of not doing them any harm. No, her Agency training had helped her survive in some tricky situations before. Best to play along for now. The bold CIA agent looked the man directly in the eye as she pursed her lips and embraced the tip of the barrel of the gun.

'Suck it like it was a cock."

Suck it like a cock, how ridiculous. Yet erotic to Sorin presumably. His hand twitched as he rotated his fist and slid it in and out of her wet mouth. He was amazed as the woman's left cheek puffed out. She was willingly licking and using her tongue to fellate his pistol! Tuesday let the Luger move in and out of her mouth and felt some kind of relief that his trigger finger was not in place. her legs as she too became curiously turned on.

He then pulled the gun from her mouth and trailed it down to her tits which he circled one by one. He playfully covered each of her nipples with the gun which was coated in her spit. On he went, closer and closer to her snatch. Is the bastard going to pistol fuck me, she thought?

"You're one sick fuck."

"Okay! That's enough of that!"

Tiffany had been worrying about her binds and had gotten free of the cords. As she

rose from the chair, this helped Tuesday leap up to kick out between Sorin's legs. She connected with his ball sack and he crumpled to the floor. He went over and his Luger spilled out of his hand.

"Get the gun!" Cried Tuesday to Tiffany who beat the remaining upstanding ruffian by a split second.

"How are you?" She asked as she trained the gun on the enemy spies and helped the American out of her ties.

"Could have been worse." She answered.

"Bother!" Exclaimed the proud fashion model. "I broke a nail."

Tuesday gave the blonde a quizzical look and then burst out laughing in blessed relief.

"Come on. Let's get this lot tied up and shipped back to your Uncle."

xxx

Chapter Thirteen.

Watford, 1974.

It had been Fiona Richmond who had set the ball rolling. Quite literally, when she visited Crystal Palace Football Club for one of her monthly sex columns in Men Only Magazine. The photo opportunity had even made the national newspapers with racy pictures of her frolicking nude with the players and coach in the team tub.

Naturally, other clubs wished to get in on the act, and Tiffany was not surprised when she got an invitation for a photo shoot with the Watford team. The club had a ground in Hertfordshire, just west of London, and the excited model readily agreed to participate. Ray was busy on another assignment and so she took the railway train by herself. The official club photographer would take the necessary pictures.

x

At the rear of the stadium, she found the modest training facility consisting of a reasonable pavilion, office space for staff, and a fairly decent gym facility. The only drawback was the rather small clubhouse which housed the changing rooms and showers. Tiffany was met by George who had her kitted out in the yellow jersey of the Watford team. Having a petite frame it was near impossible to pick out the right size of jersey to wear. There seemed to be no such thing as a small in men's football shirts. She looked like a little girl as the yellow top came down to her knees! She tied it off at the waist to make it look presentable. At the same time, her black shorts were on the right side and they rucked up between her nether cheeks so that they peeked out from the bottom. She had her photographs taken by him kicking a ball, running, and posing by the sign that said Property of Watford Football Club. She had made it clear though that she would not pose in the nude, nor frolic with the players. She was NOT Fiona bloody Richmond.

As she worked, she saw the second reserve players practicing and exercising. Tiff found herself lingering after her shoot to watch the guys kicking a ball around in their tight-fitting shorts and tops. They must have all been around eighteen years of age, and for the most part, all fit and healthy. Being the young and sexually active filly she was, there was something about seeing them rolling about on the muddy pitch and passionately celebrating scoring a goal that got her going.

While she was there, she decided to make use of the facilities and ran a lap around the football field.

It had rained all morning and by the time she had finished her lap, she was thoroughly muddy and covered in grime. She was to meet Ray later in the day and needed to clean up before then. Some of the team were going through physical jerks and stretching outside before they too thought it best to go to the clubhouse. When she opened the door to the changing room, she was greeted by the heat and a wall of steam from the several running showers. AND the jaw-dropping sight of four muscular young hunks in various states of undress.

"Ah."

The tallest one was half-decent in a funny sort of way, as he still wore his yellow jersey, but was naked from the waist down. A fair-haired chap was naked from the waist on up and still wore his tight black shorts. Another also had his shirt off and his shorts on, and Tiffany's eyes were drawn to his sizeable bulge. Lastly, there was a long-haired fellow who had just emerged from the hissing shower stalls with a big towel. But rather than tie it around his waist, he hung it around his neck, displaying his naked bod.

"Hi." He said with a smile, oblivious to the fact that a girl was in the house, barely three feet away from his beefy club of a dick that hung down between his chunky legs over a pair of massive balls. Even flaccid it looked to be close to seven inches long.

"Oh, yeah. Hi. I came in to have a shower if that's all right."

Sharing a shower room with four virile young eighteen-year-old footballers was like a wet dream come true. His eyes lowered to her loins where her tight black shorts scarcely covered her prominent mound. She undid the front of her tied-off jersey and pulled it down to her knees. All four athletes stood stock still as they looked directly at her with big eyes. What HAVE I got myself into, she wondered.

"Go right on ahead." Said the guy as he jerked his thumb over his shoulder. "You should find fresh towels inside."

Tiffany smiled weakly and went to the next room where she saw four stalls with no doors on them. Great. There was one long bench with towels and bars of soap placed on each and she took one. The attractive blonde shrugged the jersey off and peeled her shorts down over her legs. She stepped into the last stall at the back wall and turned on the water, keeping one eye open so because of the lack of doors. Once the hot spray washed over her grubby body, however, she began to relax. She fancied she heard another shower running down the other end, but paid it no mind.

"Can you please pass me the soap?" Asked a man in a raspy voice.

"Sure. Er...say what?"

A big arm came at her and her heart leaped in her chest. There was one of the players, butt naked and sporting a half-mast erection, looking at her under the shower with a twinkle in his eye. He bucked his hips as he lingered by her side until she saw red, furious at the intrusion. She bounced back into the changing room in a state of undress and dripping wet, to see three pairs of eyes staring lustfully at the pert mounds of her bared boobs and exposed bum and mons.

"Hey!"

Tiffany unconsciously struck a bossy pose, with her hands on her hips rather than the obvious choice of covering her pussy mound. The hot blonde took a steadying intake of air and made a feeble attempt to sound authoritative. Fat chance of that in her naked state and squaring up to three uninhibited young men.

"Can you believe that man is waving his dick at my face in the showers? How bloody dare he!"

"Sorry, Miss Jones. Were you flirting maybe?"

She turned to the one who was still in his jersey and still bottomless, and she couldn't help noticing how sexy that looked.

"What? No. I don't know."

Had she been? Just being near four virile footballers must have sent some message to her, and their, brains. You could have cut the sexual tension in the room with a knife, and Tiff realised her error as they all grinned at her and slowly dropped their towels from their dark-skinned bodies to reveal their rampant erections.

"Ah. Right."

Her mouth gaped open as she became mesmerised by their impressive size and girth. They all had generous lengths that jutted out from their groins at forty-five-degree angles. They all had incredibly fit bodies too, and every chest muscle was prominent. And being footballers they all had chiseled thighs and buttocks. Confronted by a group of eager young men instantly made Tiffany's belly warm and tingly, and she felt a definite moistness between her upper thighs. Her bare body still dripped water and she was aware she made puddles on the tiles under her feet.