SEXPIONAGE NEW SERIES - "OPEN SEASON"
PART I
Exposed Under Cover (1)
Roger Moore’s Office, SIS HQ, Vauxhall London
Following the fatal demise of Marcus Devonshire, Roger Moore was back ensconced in his rightful position as head of MI6. He picked up his coffee cup as the screen before him displayed the latest intel from his field agents.
The name Hamat Jakadi appeared in large white letter. Jakadi was an arms dealer from Azerbaijan and it appeared likely that he held information in his possession that was very damning towards Iran and their part in certain aggressive geo-political activities, details that Moore and MI6 needed to see. But this man was dangerous. A known sadist and BDSM lover, he could be easily infiltrated but only by an Agent who was willing to submit wholly to him and catch Jakadi whilst he was completely off guard. This monster of a man, for reasons unknown, was currently in London, posing as an investor and the time to approach was now.
There was only one person for the job … Agent Cat. Roger Moore picked up his secure cell phone and dialled her coded number …
A large House in District 1, Innere Stadt, Vienna, Austria
The first days of March in Vienna were warm and the temperature was still on the increase.
Catherine Lavigne was laying on the secluded terraced area of the house of a rich Austrian, wearing nothing but a translucent, gauzy slip, allowing the early spring sun to shine on her exposed flesh.
Upon much closer inspection one would be able to discern an array of thin, white lines, some raised but all displaying the marks of mostly healed scar tissue, on the delicate skin of her back, and her flanks, but also striping her ass and the sides of her breasts. All of them a permanent reminder of missions-past.
Cat was enjoying a relaxing period of down time at her boyfriend's house, where she had everything that she needed in order to relax and unwind. Her last mission in Beirut
(see Beirut Bombshell), under cover for MI6, had taken more out of her physically than she wanted to admit.
"Miss Cat? Excuse me, but your cell phone has been ringing."
Jurgen Kloss, her boyfriend, employed an English butler. James had brought out one of her mobile phones, a new Samsung, containing just a single number, that of Roger Moore, Head of MI6. The officious member of Kloss’ staff stood rigidly by the almost nude girl’s side and presented her cell phone on a silver tray.
"Thank you, James,” Cat smiled sweetly.
She sat up letting the see-through slip fall away, concerned not one iota that James now had the perfect view of her naked and exposed breasts. The Butler had seen her nude body in and around the pool many times, including during some of her more extreme sexual extravagances involving both Mister and Mrs Kloss … yes, her boyfriend was married, but that is another story …
With a careful swipe of her right index finger Cat opened the encrypted messaging service and saw the text version, of the voice message from her contact.
"MI6 has an assignment for you. Your fee will be the same as last time. Can we rely upon you Miss Lavigne?” It was signed
‘RM’.
Cat sighed, looked briefly up at the sun above and thought.
Then she typed her answer:
"Another Million is not enough. If you need me the fee is one and half million pounds sterling and if I consider it to be overly dangerous then I will need half a million more. If that is agreeable then let me know Mister Moore and I can be in London the day after tomorrow."
Cat had only just pressed SEND and replaced the phone on the silver tray, when suddenly Kloss surfaced from the still surface of the luxurious pool, reached out his hand and grabbed Cat by the ankle. A sudden jerk and he had pulled her in with him.
Catherine shrieked in surprise, disappeared under the water and then reappeared wearing a huge grin.
“Fuck it Jurgen, it’s not fair taking me by surprise like that,” she cried out.
“Sorry,” he said, making it clear that he was not sorry at all. “I wanted you all wet too.”
“Oh, hon,” she said as she wrapped her arms around him. “You don’t need to dunk me in a pool to get me wet,” and that’s when he kissed her. She could taste the chlorinated water on his lips and she pulled him toward her almost naked body, sliding her tongue between his open lips.
His left hand held her in the small of her back pulling her close allowing his right hand to roam over her ass, squeezing and kneading the soft but firm flesh.
In response Catherine ran her hands though his dark, wet hair and wrapped her legs around his waist. She could feel the solidity of his erection pressing through his swim shorts and into the flat, tight skin of her abdomen.
In that moment, Cat was able to forget she was a Spy, it was just her and Jurgen, and she wanted him right now.
“Ahem,” came a voice. They both disengaged from one other to see James standing nearby, two towels draped over his arm.
“Sorry to interrupt, sir and madam,” he said. “But, Miss Cat, your phone has another message.
The girl looked at her lover apologetically. “I have to read it,” she said, “… I’m sorry.”
Kloss let her go and as Cat climbed out of the pool with the ease of a trained athlete, she grabbed a towel from the butler and took the phone before heading inside, her body dripping water all over the tiled floor of the conservatory.
“Apologies, for interrupting your day again Agent Cat,” the message began. “Your fee is acceptable, so we expect to see you in London within 48 hours. RM.”
To Be Continued …
