Sounds like an Ian Fleming book title, doesn’t it?
Thoughful and tenderly written love scene.
Excellent writing. Great detailing. Can’t wait for Moore!
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The Agent, The Girl, and the Fidelistas
- Thread starter Praefectus Praetorio
- Start date
Sounds like an Ian Fleming book title, doesn’t it?
Thoughful and tenderly written love scene.
Excellent writing. Great detailing. Can’t wait for Moore!
Praefectus Praetorio
R.I.P. Brother of the Quill
Sounds like an Ian Fleming book title, doesn’t it?
Thoughful and tenderly written love scene.
Excellent writing. Great detailing. Can’t wait for Moore!
I'm afraid you are confused. {Moore} is already in the story, And the name must be redacted!
(these ignorance female readers!)
Praefectus Praetorio
R.I.P. Brother of the Quill
Sounds like an Ian Fleming book title, doesn’t it?
Thoughful and tenderly written love scene.
Excellent writing. Great detailing. Can’t wait for Moore!
Are you referring to that hack who writes about that Brit agent I knew who didn't understand Martinis?
windar
Teller of Tales
I'll second Barb's appraisal of the chapter. Nicely written. Don't worry about the age difference, Barb goes for older men. Just limit yourself to no more than one Seinfeld re-run per evening and things will work out just fine.
You're right about the Jackson Plantation-there are stories
.
As a fello history buff, I have one nit to pick. While invented in the 1950s, the "built in coffee maker" was not in general use in 1960. I remember the old glass percolator which was standard kitchen fare back then
I think a built in coffee maker on a boat would have been a stretch for that time.
More importantly, though, you let Barb drive the boat and she didn't run it aground on the first bend of the river. That is truly hard to believe...
You're right about the Jackson Plantation-there are stories
.As a fello history buff, I have one nit to pick. While invented in the 1950s, the "built in coffee maker" was not in general use in 1960. I remember the old glass percolator which was standard kitchen fare back then
I think a built in coffee maker on a boat would have been a stretch for that time.More importantly, though, you let Barb drive the boat and she didn't run it aground on the first bend of the river. That is truly hard to believe...
Praefectus Praetorio
R.I.P. Brother of the Quill
I'll second Barb's appraisal of the chapter. Nicely written. Don't worry about the age difference, Barb goes for older men. Just limit yourself to no more than one Seinfeld re-run per evening and things will work out just fine.
You're right about the Jackson Plantation-there are stories
As a fello history buff, I have one nit to pick. While invented in the 1950s, the "built in coffee maker" was not in general use in 1960. I remember the old glass percolator which was standard kitchen fare back then View attachment 617271 I think a built in coffee maker on a boat would have been a stretch for that time.
More importantly, though, you let Barb drive the boat and she didn't run it aground on the first bend of the river. That is truly hard to believe...
Point by Point
Thank you so much for the kind words.
In 1960, a CIA agent would worry about it. But as you see, he gets over it. I like young stuff so i write the girl younger to please me (at 70, they are all younger!)
I can't do with less than two Seinfelds a night. but I try to limit it to that
The author will have to wait a few years (he's writing in 1978) to join the cruxforums and learn more about Jackson
The coffee maker was just winging it. I wanted to be able to make coffee fast and get on deck to see the lovely Barb.
Yeah, it does stain credibility for Barb to be good on the boat (not in bed), but its needed for the plot. And the Intercoastal is mostly very straight. Just try to imagine when she's steering the boat she's bizarro Barb!
Praefectus Praetorio
R.I.P. Brother of the Quill
I am concerned that some of the readers may be concerned that his is just a love story with no BDSM. Don't worry. It will be coming in a couple of chapters from now. In the meantime for those of you who hate kissing and what to see whipping, just relax and come back in a couple of days
I am concerned that some of the readers may be concerned that his is just a love story with no BDSM. Don't worry. It will be coming in a couple of chapters from now. In the meantime for those of you who hate kissing and what to see whipping, just relax and come back in a couple of days
Something here for everyone...
Praefectus Praetorio
R.I.P. Brother of the Quill
Something here for everyone...
"Something for Everyone, A Comedy Tonight!"
On cruxforum I hope most are familiar with the opening song from "A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Forum"
Nor could he, apparently...Can’t wait for Moore!
Praefectus Praetorio
R.I.P. Brother of the Quill
Chapter Six
We anchored in the bay and spent a night of really good fucking, before changing into our beach wear and heading to the west beach and Tiki Bar Row (I understand that is all gone now, resort condos have covered it, tragic loss). I wore my signature baggy swim shorts (I’d picked up the style from some surfers I met on a mission in Hawaii (yes, my missions often were in fantastic places)). Barb wore a white bikini which seemed to have shrunk in the wash. If I hadn’t spent half the night making love to her, I would have insisted on another round before we went ashore. In fact, I almost did!
I’d spent much time establishing my cover here and cultivating sources, so as soon as we walked up the beach, many of the waitress, bartenders, and beach service boys crowded around. I know the girls were there because I was regarded as God’s gift to women in that area. However, it was somewhat disappointing to see the men, and most of the women paying more attention (code word for ogling) Barb. I introduced her as my fiancé. Strangely, instead of congratulating Barb for having roped in the number one catch in Canada and the Caribbean, they told me how lucky I was, and some of the women seemed to be asking Barb about the age difference. I felt like the Borscht Belt comedian Rodney Dangerfield, who was just beginning to appear on late night television; "I don't get no respect!"
Eventually we got to my favorite bar, “The Shipwreck”, whose falling down state always affirmed the wisdom of the name. But Jimmy, the bartender, had a truly magical way with alcohol and fruit! I ordered for both of us, starting Barb on her Caribbean booze education, something simple, a Mai Tai. This Polynesian themed drink was invented in California (either Trader Vic’s in Oakland or Don the Beachcomber in Hollywood – I don’t care) and was appropriate for its use of Curaçao Liqueur from the Caribbean island of the same name. Barb liked and was soon on her second, continuing to dish with the waitresses.
I took the opportunity to call Jimmy aside and ask about the whereabouts of Sofia (codename {Kathy}). Jimmy (good man, but I never let him in on my real identity), was taken aback and made a head gesture toward Barb. I laughed and said, “Yeah, she’s great, but I’m not married yet, or dead!” Jimmy said he’d get back to me soon, Sofia was always around somewhere, working the tourist men (and women) at the bars.
Sure enough, in about half an hour, Jimmy came and toweled the bar in front of us, got my attention and subtly nodded toward the next bar. I look over and saw Sofia working the tourists. I mean all the tourists, men, women, couples. God bless her, Sofia loved them all!
I had met Sofia about four years ago when she had chucked a mind-deadening file clerk job in Atlanta to move to Jamaica and become a whore. She was very good at it and, as I said, took on and pleased all comers. I think she still had the first dollar she had made at it and from the very busy business she maintained, I suspected she must have several hundred g’s. She could have retired any time in a low cost paradise like Jamaica, but she was working aa hard as ever. I couldn’t tell whether she was working now for the money, or she just loved the sex!
Sofia was a real bundle of energy, with her soft Georgia accent, her teasing brown eyes and her soft brown hair falling halfway down her back, she could get you under her spell in about ten seconds. Barely 5’3 and 105 pounds, her 34-25-32 figure was topped with the firmest, perkiest little breasts you ever saw.
I had recruited {Kathy} as a covert source of information about 3 years ago. She was still a loyal American and liked the stipend the CIA granted her. {Kathy} had a wealth of information from government officials, their wives, high ranking Cuban and Russian officials and their wives who came for higher class facilities than Cuba had.
I made my excuses to Barb, who was on her third or fourth Mai Tai (I’d have to talk to her later about these fruity but potent tropical drinks) and talking up a storm with her new waitress friends (who mostly seemed to be unloading totally false stories about my sexual ways), and walked toward the next bar.
As soon as she saw me, Sofia dropped the tourist couple she’d been flirting with, ran toward me, jumped into my arms, legs around my hips arms on my shoulders a lips pressed firmly against mine. In order not to arouse (whew!) suspicion, I pretended to kiss her back and even let my hips move in tandem with her enthusiastic pumping.
Once I got our lips unglued, I told her I wanted to go right to her room. Her normally bright eyes got even bigger and she took my hand and began to drag me up the beach toward her place. I went willingly and on the way, we caught up on things and chatted like the old friends we were. When we got to her little cottage, she locked the door and turned to me and started to undress. I won’t bother to describe Sofia’s clothes other than to say they were always skimpy and sexy and she never kept them on long enough for you to remember exactly what they were.
I undressed also. Now if you are wondering, yes {Kathy}, to use her code name, and I, frequently made love. We were close friends and cared much for each other, and if you were that way with {Kathy}, sex was inevitable (not that I had ever objected). In addition, although we knew her cottage was clean, since I was ostensively visiting her in her official capacity as a whore, we needed to maintain the cover in case someone looked in or burst through the door. And we both enjoyed it a lot!
On the walk over, I had told her about my engagement, which of course didn’t effect her sexual interest in me. Once we were in bed, we engaged in our highly developed practice of exchanging confidential information, while playing hide the sausage. I explained Barb's role and the plan for a visit to Bahía de Cochinos. I had no hesitation – I would easily trust {Kathy} with our lives. We exchanged general information and I told her about my relationship with Barb. {Kathy} was unfazed and very happy for me, even as she rode me as if I was a wild bronco! Afterwards (yes, I came – it is virtually impossible for any man or woman not to come with {Kathy}), she mentioned that she had some concerns about Cuba. She couldn’t tell me anything specific, but she was an excellent observer, as well as being an excellent whore, and she felt there was some unusual tension with the Cubans she had been seeing.
We got dressed and headed back for the beach. No one got too much time with {Kathy} she was always hot (in more ways than one) to score the next customer(s). As I walked over to the Shipwreck, she spotted Barb from my description and ran over, hugged her and kissed her (on the mouth, of course) and began talking a mile a minute about how lucky Barb was to get me. At last someone was telling the truth!
Barb looked like she had had one or two more Mai Tai s, but I had told her about {Kathy}, full disclosure, so she just jumped into the conversation as if they were sisters.
It was getting late so I settled up with Jimmy with an obscenely large tip as I always did, which I could trust he would share with the waitresses and beach boys. I sat down to finish my drink. When I looked over at Barb and {Kathy}, I could tell that the Yale girl had never had this much to drink. And {Kathy}, was not treating her like a sister, but was all over her! Talking close, kissing and nibbling her ear, hand on her inner thigh with slow rubbing. Barbs lips were open and her tongue sometimes came out as if of its own accord. I knew I had to either take things in hand, or in a moment, Barb would be taking that short walk back to {Kathy}’s cottage.
We anchored in the bay and spent a night of really good fucking, before changing into our beach wear and heading to the west beach and Tiki Bar Row (I understand that is all gone now, resort condos have covered it, tragic loss). I wore my signature baggy swim shorts (I’d picked up the style from some surfers I met on a mission in Hawaii (yes, my missions often were in fantastic places)). Barb wore a white bikini which seemed to have shrunk in the wash. If I hadn’t spent half the night making love to her, I would have insisted on another round before we went ashore. In fact, I almost did!
I’d spent much time establishing my cover here and cultivating sources, so as soon as we walked up the beach, many of the waitress, bartenders, and beach service boys crowded around. I know the girls were there because I was regarded as God’s gift to women in that area. However, it was somewhat disappointing to see the men, and most of the women paying more attention (code word for ogling) Barb. I introduced her as my fiancé. Strangely, instead of congratulating Barb for having roped in the number one catch in Canada and the Caribbean, they told me how lucky I was, and some of the women seemed to be asking Barb about the age difference. I felt like the Borscht Belt comedian Rodney Dangerfield, who was just beginning to appear on late night television; "I don't get no respect!"
Eventually we got to my favorite bar, “The Shipwreck”, whose falling down state always affirmed the wisdom of the name. But Jimmy, the bartender, had a truly magical way with alcohol and fruit! I ordered for both of us, starting Barb on her Caribbean booze education, something simple, a Mai Tai. This Polynesian themed drink was invented in California (either Trader Vic’s in Oakland or Don the Beachcomber in Hollywood – I don’t care) and was appropriate for its use of Curaçao Liqueur from the Caribbean island of the same name. Barb liked and was soon on her second, continuing to dish with the waitresses.
I took the opportunity to call Jimmy aside and ask about the whereabouts of Sofia (codename {Kathy}). Jimmy (good man, but I never let him in on my real identity), was taken aback and made a head gesture toward Barb. I laughed and said, “Yeah, she’s great, but I’m not married yet, or dead!” Jimmy said he’d get back to me soon, Sofia was always around somewhere, working the tourist men (and women) at the bars.
Sure enough, in about half an hour, Jimmy came and toweled the bar in front of us, got my attention and subtly nodded toward the next bar. I look over and saw Sofia working the tourists. I mean all the tourists, men, women, couples. God bless her, Sofia loved them all!
I had met Sofia about four years ago when she had chucked a mind-deadening file clerk job in Atlanta to move to Jamaica and become a whore. She was very good at it and, as I said, took on and pleased all comers. I think she still had the first dollar she had made at it and from the very busy business she maintained, I suspected she must have several hundred g’s. She could have retired any time in a low cost paradise like Jamaica, but she was working aa hard as ever. I couldn’t tell whether she was working now for the money, or she just loved the sex!
Sofia was a real bundle of energy, with her soft Georgia accent, her teasing brown eyes and her soft brown hair falling halfway down her back, she could get you under her spell in about ten seconds. Barely 5’3 and 105 pounds, her 34-25-32 figure was topped with the firmest, perkiest little breasts you ever saw.
I had recruited {Kathy} as a covert source of information about 3 years ago. She was still a loyal American and liked the stipend the CIA granted her. {Kathy} had a wealth of information from government officials, their wives, high ranking Cuban and Russian officials and their wives who came for higher class facilities than Cuba had.
I made my excuses to Barb, who was on her third or fourth Mai Tai (I’d have to talk to her later about these fruity but potent tropical drinks) and talking up a storm with her new waitress friends (who mostly seemed to be unloading totally false stories about my sexual ways), and walked toward the next bar.
As soon as she saw me, Sofia dropped the tourist couple she’d been flirting with, ran toward me, jumped into my arms, legs around my hips arms on my shoulders a lips pressed firmly against mine. In order not to arouse (whew!) suspicion, I pretended to kiss her back and even let my hips move in tandem with her enthusiastic pumping.
Once I got our lips unglued, I told her I wanted to go right to her room. Her normally bright eyes got even bigger and she took my hand and began to drag me up the beach toward her place. I went willingly and on the way, we caught up on things and chatted like the old friends we were. When we got to her little cottage, she locked the door and turned to me and started to undress. I won’t bother to describe Sofia’s clothes other than to say they were always skimpy and sexy and she never kept them on long enough for you to remember exactly what they were.
I undressed also. Now if you are wondering, yes {Kathy}, to use her code name, and I, frequently made love. We were close friends and cared much for each other, and if you were that way with {Kathy}, sex was inevitable (not that I had ever objected). In addition, although we knew her cottage was clean, since I was ostensively visiting her in her official capacity as a whore, we needed to maintain the cover in case someone looked in or burst through the door. And we both enjoyed it a lot!
On the walk over, I had told her about my engagement, which of course didn’t effect her sexual interest in me. Once we were in bed, we engaged in our highly developed practice of exchanging confidential information, while playing hide the sausage. I explained Barb's role and the plan for a visit to Bahía de Cochinos. I had no hesitation – I would easily trust {Kathy} with our lives. We exchanged general information and I told her about my relationship with Barb. {Kathy} was unfazed and very happy for me, even as she rode me as if I was a wild bronco! Afterwards (yes, I came – it is virtually impossible for any man or woman not to come with {Kathy}), she mentioned that she had some concerns about Cuba. She couldn’t tell me anything specific, but she was an excellent observer, as well as being an excellent whore, and she felt there was some unusual tension with the Cubans she had been seeing.
We got dressed and headed back for the beach. No one got too much time with {Kathy} she was always hot (in more ways than one) to score the next customer(s). As I walked over to the Shipwreck, she spotted Barb from my description and ran over, hugged her and kissed her (on the mouth, of course) and began talking a mile a minute about how lucky Barb was to get me. At last someone was telling the truth!
Barb looked like she had had one or two more Mai Tai s, but I had told her about {Kathy}, full disclosure, so she just jumped into the conversation as if they were sisters.
It was getting late so I settled up with Jimmy with an obscenely large tip as I always did, which I could trust he would share with the waitresses and beach boys. I sat down to finish my drink. When I looked over at Barb and {Kathy}, I could tell that the Yale girl had never had this much to drink. And {Kathy}, was not treating her like a sister, but was all over her! Talking close, kissing and nibbling her ear, hand on her inner thigh with slow rubbing. Barbs lips were open and her tongue sometimes came out as if of its own accord. I knew I had to either take things in hand, or in a moment, Barb would be taking that short walk back to {Kathy}’s cottage.
Praefectus Praetorio
R.I.P. Brother of the Quill
Tree! you were very fast reading and liking that chapter. See how not moving your lips and only reading first sentence of each paragraph can make even you a speed reader.
Praefectus Praetorio
R.I.P. Brother of the Quill
Maybe, she can be "more deadly than a serpent's tooth". But I had in mind a drooling, drunken state of arousal that even she wouldn't complain about!Lizard like?
ShadowWolf
Tribune
Wonderful chapter Praefectus! I have a feeling that a threesome is possible within the near future? What is involved I leave in well qualified hands 
Praefectus Praetorio
R.I.P. Brother of the Quill
I'm sworn to secrecy until tomorrow. What do you think? Would {Kathy} let a delectable morsel like {Barbara Moore} get away without a taste?Wonderful chapter Praefectus! I have a feeling that a threesome is possible within the near future? What is involved I leave in well qualified hands
Kathy
Terra Nova Tramp
windar
Teller of Tales
Must be a very limited area...
Praefectus Praetorio
R.I.P. Brother of the Quill
Rodney Dangerfield again. Doesn't any on this forum, especially the women, realize for fragile and vulnerable the male sexual ego is? Why do you think we want to rape and torture you? jeeze!