First Encounter
Part Two
by SarAdora

~~~

She didn't say anything but her eyes opened wide when she saw what was waiting for her under his shorts. Licking her lips and swallowing, she grabbed his cock and pulled him toward her. He quickly moved forward. "That's not a handle, you know."

Whatever he was going to say next was lost. Her mouth and hands were already in the tango position and his erection was a willing partner - pressing into her mouth - dipping low - pressing again.

Her tongue licked the head of his cock, making little swirling motions, teasing the tip and then the underside and when she heard him moan softly, she repeated the motion again and again. Her hands moved to his balls and squeezed both of them in one hand and he yelled something in another language - Russian, she thought and then she paid him back. She stopped.

What the fuck... he wondered. "Don't stop now!"

Lauren sat up and aimed a steady unwavering look at his quivering cock. "What do you want me to do, Mr. CIA who works at the State Department?"

"Finish," he groaned. "Please finish what you started."

"And if I do as you request," she smiled sweetly, "what will you do for me?"

He thought her smile was a little too predatory. "What do you want Lieutenant?" He groaned, hoping this wasn't going to put his job in peril.

"You will take orders from me for the rest of the night. Understood?"

"Understood."

"Good! Put your vest back on."

"My vest?" She nodded. His cock was aching. He'd put a dress on if he had to - anything actually, just as long as she finished getting him off.

He slipped into his vest, buttoned it up and lay back down on the couch.

She stood up to admire his attire. "Clayton Webb, Mr. CIA, wearing a vest..." She ran the back of her fingernails up the side of his swollen manhood. "... And a full-length cock in very full sail. Very nice, Mr. Spy," she smiled. "I do like your tailor. But I think you need one more thing." She grabbed his tie and before he could reach for it, she straddled his thighs and looped it around his cock, which was aiming for her.

"What are you going to do with that?" My fucking tie? My $250 silk tie? The tie mother gave me for no other reason than she loves me? That tie? Shit! She's going to ruin it!

He started to protest but when she held both ends of the tie around his shaft and pulled it back and forth around him, the silky fabric tickled and caressed and stroked his throbbing cock and it was the most incredible feeling. "Oh yeah - that's it - just a little more - almost there - oh God - uhhhhhhhhh..." She stopped again.

He couldn't open his mouth. If he could have made his arms move, he would have reached for her neck and strangled her with his bare hands. My career would be over and even Harm couldn't get me off. Not off. Uh, even AJ couldn't get me out of this jam.

He lay there contemplating how he would kill her. On the other hand, I bet AJ could do it. He could get me off. Not off. Uh, out of this jam. If anybody can do it, AJ can. It's worth a try.

"I'm going to kill you," he said in his best CIA voice.

Lauren was delighted with his reaction. She laughed and took a giant swallow of the wine and then poured a little over his erection. The cooled wine made him jump and she laughed again. "We'll see," she tormented him and spreading her legs, sank down hard on his trembling member. The tie was still wrapped around the base and she tightly wrapped the ends around her forearms. As she moved up and down on him, the movement of her arms made the tie fit tightly around him and then loose - tight - loose - tight - loose.

He held her hips as she pumped up and down on him. He felt the wine - now warmed by their bodies. It was hot oozing liquid slipping over his cock and balls. He did not want her to stop again.

"Jesus!" He shot up into her so hard he thought his heart was going to burst through his chest. His climax was so intense he wasn't sure if his body would ever stop pumping... or if his chest would ever stop heaving... or if he'd ever breathe normally again and... Shit! It's all over my tie!

Lauren was quite satisfied. She started humming. "There is absolutely *nothing* like a really good fuck."

Her humming got a little louder and Webb knew the tune but focusing on inhaling and exhaling, he couldn't quite place it. "What's that tune, Lieutenant?"

She softly sang a few bars.

"Over there - over there - I will fuck you - anywhere 'Cause the Yanks are coming - the Yanks are coming..."

She was very satisfied with him and gave him a rare genuine smile. "That was the point after all, wasn't it? Coming?"

"Mmmm," he muttered. "Nothing like listening to a naval officer singing an Army ditty after sex."

They never did have dinner. But they did have each other a few more times... Naked and sprawled on top of the damp sheets, Webb slipped his arms under his neck and sighed. He was pleasantly tired but suddenly remembered he hadn't cancelled their dinner reservations at La Fourchette. Mmmm, I'll slip the maitre d' an extra twenty the next time I'm there. Looking at Lauren's body, still flushed from their previous activity and curled next to his, he decided it had been worth it.

Lauren was beginning to awaken from her sex-induced stupor. And she was ravenous. She lifted her head to see if he was awake and when she saw he was, she reached for his hand. "Need something, Lieutenant Lauren?"

"Mmmm," she managed and pulled his hand toward her and placed it between her thighs. "Make me happy."

Webb raised his eyebrows and thinly smiled at her insatiable appetite. His fingers automatically teased her - probing - touching - flicking - pinching - slipping in and out. But he inhaled sharply when she suddenly cupped his balls and squeezed - first gently and then with more pressure - and gently again.

"Don't stop," she warned. "If you ever wish to sire children, don't stop now."

"I won't," he promised as his breath quickly changed from normal to gasping. The unexpected rush of endorphins almost overwhelmed him and he unconsciously lifted his leg to give her easier access to the family jewels.

When he knew she was close, he moved over her - dislodging her hand when he swung a thigh over hers. Keeping his fingers at her clit, he leaned over her to suck her nipples.

"No," she said. "Don't do that."

"Why not?"

"Because I said so." She raised her eyebrows and dared him to touch her breasts.

He sat back on his hips to look at her for a moment and to give his heart a chance to slow for a few seconds. Then, without warning, he flipped her onto her belly and slapped her bottom cheeks until they were bright red. Surprisingly she didn't complain.

Satisfied with his handiwork he flipped her onto her back again and used both hands to separate her folds and again without warning her as to what he was going to do, plunged into her. Once he was deeply seated, he held her arms away from her sides and still thrusting, took her nipple in his mouth and sucked it in the same cadence as his moving hips.

She was writhing under him trying to raise her hips but he kept her pinned with his body. Even so, she tried to match him thrust for thrust and her legs were around him, moving from his hips to his waist and back to his hips in her urgent need for release. When he knew he was going to climax, he lifted his head.

"Open your eyes," he said huskily. "Look at me."

"No," she said between clenched teeth.

He didn't ask a second time. He clamped his lips around the other nipple and let his tongue swirl around it until his body erupted into her. Breathing heavily, he released her arms and moved up to cup her face and capture her mouth. She arched her back and shuddered under him in a satisfying climax and pulled his hips toward her, trying to keep him inside - wanting to stay full of him and his hot seed - belonging to him - just for the moment.

When he finally rolled over, he kept an arm around her. He didn't know why he did that. Webb wasn't the sweet, sloppy, sentimental type. He liked a good roll in the hay. No need to make it anything more than that. Love them. Leave them. Move on. But for some reason, it seemed right this time. It felt awkward and it felt good at the same time. Hmmm, not bad. Not bad at all.

"When did you decide to become a lawyer, Lieutenant?" He said out of the blue, hearing himself speak the words the same time she did.

"When did you decide to become a spy, Webb?" She asked with the same degree of impartiality he had used on her.

"I asked you first."

"Be warned. I'm a lawyer; I know how to cross-examine witnesses and twist your words until I hear what I want to hear," she smugly retorted.

"I'm a spy; I know how to interrogate and coax and promise and lie and torture until I hear all your secrets. Be frightened," he stated matter-of-factly.

She lifted herself onto one elbow so she could look at him. Running a hand across his bare chest and torso, she smiled at him, lightly pinched his nipples and once again, she licked her lips. "I'm becoming addicted to your kind of torture, Webb. Very addicted. What will you do if I decide to interrogate you? Spank me again?"

"You won't know until you try," he said softly, wondering how much more his body could take and very willing to spank her again to find out.

She tossed her damp hair over her shoulder. The long blonde tresses had lost their shiny luster and hung curled and slightly frizzed from perspiration. Webb's hair was also damp. Neither seemed to notice. The room smelled strongly of their sex and both aware of the scent of sex were newly aroused. Lauren reached into a nightstand drawer and took out an oversized pair of dark sunglasses. "Here, put these on," she instructed.

He did. And she smiled satisfied she couldn't see his eyes. Her naked body straddled his naked thighs in a squat - her knees pressed together - her hands on his hips keeping her balanced. When she was sure his eyes were riveted on her knees, she slowly spread them - and closed them. Then she placed one of his hands on her sex and spread her knees and closed them - spread her knees and closed them - over and over - until she was wet. The smell of her sex filled her nostrils and his. His fingers on her clit - her knees together - her thighs tight against his hand - it was enough - she was almost there.

Webb was having trouble breathing. Every time she spread her knees, her sex was exposed to his intense gaze. He was rolling her clit between his thumb and fingers and her muscles were squeezing those fingers and he thought she was trying to suck them into her body. Her hips were moving side to side and back and forth and his hand was wet from... and his aching cock was rubbing against whatever part of her it could reach. He knew he was going to explode.

He sat up, roughly pushed her on her back and entered her so swiftly he didn't know he had until he felt her inner walls grab him and pull him down... and down... and down... and down... and he emptied into her like a torrential downpour. Their hearts were wildly pumping while whatever was left of their sanity went white... then black... then nothing... then hard and hot breaths... then even ones... then slow ones... then...

They slept soundlessly. Lauren on her back at the foot of the bed, one arm off the side; Webb on his stomach, partially on her hip, her hair covering the side of her face and his arm draped halfway across her neck. The sunglasses were in one of her hands - their feet on her pillows - the bedspread on the floor - the sheets tangled, still damp.

0930 Hours
Lauren Singer's Apartment
Falls Church, Virginia

Lauren hung up the phone. She was satisfied Gunny believed her story. She called saying she urgently needed some files and couldn't get over to JAG ops because her car battery was dead. He reluctantly agreed to deliver them to her place within the hour.

Just enough time to shower and get rid of the spy.

She walked into the bedroom with a fresh mug of hot coffee. "Wake up, Webb. You have to get out of here."

Years of sleeping with one eye open, Webb was fully alert when she came into the room. The aroma of fresh coffee also helped. He checked his watch. "Why? Is there a terrorist attack planned for 1000 hours?"

"Worse," she retorted. "Gunnery Sergeant Galindez just called. He's going to deliver some files I neglected to bring home with me... in about 40 minutes."

"Shit! I'm out of here." He burned the roof of his mouth swallowing the hot coffee, dressed in record time, grabbed her and kissed her hard. "I'll be in touch."

She raised her eyebrows. Her look was slightly skeptical. "Believe me. You're the most... I *will* be in touch." He was out the door before Lauren was able to wipe the smile off her face.

"I know you will, Webbie. You owe me another spanking and I'm looking forward to our next encounter."

Thirty minutes later, she was showered and dressed and there were clean sheets on the bed. She was just rinsing last night's wine goblets when she heard a knock on the door.

"Gunny! What a surprise!" She smiled at the handsome marine when she opened the door.

"Surprise?" He looked puzzled. "You were expecting me, weren't you?"

"Of course, I was. You're just here a little earlier than I anticipated. Well, don't just stand there," Lauren invited warmly. "Step into my parlor."

Said the spider to the fly, Gunny thought as he fingered his collar and warily stepped across the threshold.

~ End ~

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