He raised my wrists and pressed them against the wall of our small train compartment with his strong left hand as our tongues met in a deep, passionate kiss. I closed my eyes with our tongues colliding, exchanging saliva, while Paul lingered with his right-hand over my generous 34-D breasts, gently massaging my nipples erect through my T-shirt and bra.
My heart started to beat fast at the weird sensation, and I let out a moan in his mouth, “Ummh!”
Leaving my hands, Paul slowly and erotically moved his hands over my body, touching every corner of my top, and finally rested on my waist. I felt some tickle but stood straight with my eyes closed and hands up. He broke the kiss and slid my T-shirt up and off.
I opened my eyes, leaned toward him, and, placing my one hand around his neck, started to kiss his lips. My other hand moved down to his dick, over his pants. It was getting harder with my touch and ready to be popped out.
I had almost unbuckled his pants. Meanwhile, Paul unfastened my bra and, ever so slowly, slid the straps from my shoulder. I lowered my other arm and let my bra fall down on the train floor.
He immediately grabbed my neck strongly, turned me around, and pressed my face on the wall. I placed my hands on the wall to balance the pressure. He hooked his thumbs in the elastic waist of my pants and pulled them, together with my panties, to the floor in one smooth motion.
I stepped out of them and arching my ass stood totally naked, while Paul shucked off his own clothes.
I had met Paul years ago when we were both working for the CIA. I hadn’t seen him in over six years, ever since he and his friend Marcus had quit the CIA, figuring that they could do more good fighting terrorism on their own, without the strictures of CIA rules and regulations.
Recent events had thrown us back together again, and we hadn’t wasted any time picking up our personal as well as our professional relationship. Paul had been one of the best lovers I’ve had, and the things he was doing to my body at that moment proved that he hadn’t lost his touch.
Keeping his right hand on my neck, he moved his left hand, with aching slowness, down my waist, over my groin and down to my pussy. His fingers parted my pussy lips and slipped inside, my pussy moistening even more as his fingers expertly massaged my aching clit.
I felt the tip of his cock touch the entrance to my vagina, teasingly rubbing against it without trying to enter. The fire in my entire pelvic region began to spread through my body, hungry with need for his cock to slide inside and fill up the empty, aching space that was my cunt…
Bam! Bam! Bam! “Police”!
“Fuck,” I muttered to myself.
Normally I would have ignored a knock on the door at that point, but I knew that police, especially Russian police, don’t take kindly to being kept waiting. Paul, who is well known to police, grabbed his pants so they wouldn’t provide evidence of another occupant and ducked into the compartment’s tiny washroom.
I had so far been able to keep myself off police radar, so I wasn’t worried about opening the door, but I didn’t think I should do it in my present condition. I grabbed my T-shirt and yanked it on without taking time for panties or bra. I figured it would be long enough to provide a reasonable amount of decency with a minimum of delay.
I opened the door to find two burly Russian policemen standing outside. There was a long pause as I waited for them to announce what they wanted. Then I realized the significance of the pause.
"Um, excuse me; eyes up here, please,” I said in a sensual tone and gestured toward my eyes with my index and middle fingers, realizing that the T-shirt was a lot clingier and more see-through than I had realized. My breasts were clearly outlined in the fabric, and my dark areolas showed through plainly.
Their eyes snapped back to where they belonged as one of them stammered, "Uh, I mean...sorry, but have you, uh, maybe you have encountered this person?” He held out a photograph.
“Wow, your English is very good, and he really is a handsome hunk; is he British?” I couldn't help but respond with an awkward, ear-to-ear grin and a level of excitement that made it seem like I'd just bumped into a celebrity or my ultimate crush.
"American, actually," the policeman replied, his eyes scanning inside our two-seat compartment.
"Oh, my apologies, officer. I've never crossed paths with him before," I fibbed.
“And this woman?” The officer inquired, presenting yet another photograph and trying, not very successfully, to avoid staring at my ample chest as it strained against the T-shirt.
"Um, well, n–n-no officer," I stammered, pretending to be much more flustered than I was.
The police officer inquired once more, seeking to provide reassurance, "Are you absolutely sure?"
"Indeed, officer, I'm quite certain," I responded, maintaining my seductive tone.
I was totally lying. I knew exactly who the people in the photos were: Paul’s ex-colleague Marcus and Paul’s nineteen-year-old daughter, Lim.
“May I have a look at your passport?” the officer inquired politely.
“Absolutely,” I responded quickly.
I had just about had it with these assholes, their pants bulging with what I hoped were very uncomfortable hard-ons that they had no opportunity to release. I’m sure they both were dying to slam me against the wall and fuck me silly, but the train was just a little bit too public for even Russian police to try a career-ending stunt like that. I decided to have some fun with their predicament.
I merrily twirled around and casually walked over to the bag resting on the couch. As I retrieved my passport from my bag, I deliberately let it slip from my grasp, and then, with a tantalizing slowness, I spread my legs apart and sensuously bent over to pick it up. Of course, the t-shirt rode up above my waist, giving them a clear view of my asshole and carefully shaved, juicy pussy.
They managed to keep their faces stoney as, with a shy smile, I extended the passport, but I could tell that they were both feeling as though they would blow their loads in their pants at any minute.
"Um, here you go; by the way, uh, who are those people?"
“This morning, this woman detonated three bombs in Moscow and escaped with this man. She's a ruthless fugitive and may be aboard this train; please stay careful," cautioned the police officer, who gave my passport back without even looking at it.
“Thanks for the heads-up, officer,” I expressed my gratitude to the officer for the information.
The police officer shook his head and proceeded to the next compartment. I immediately closed and locked the door behind me. Still horny, desperately wanting his dick back in me, I leaned back at the door with my one leg up, leaving my pussy open, I called out, "They've left; it's safe to come out now."
Paul emerged from the restroom with his pants on, so I felt a little disappointed, but understanding the gravity of the situation, I informed him, “Fuck, Paul, they have pictures of both of them, and they think it was Lim who initiated the bombing, even if she didn’t actually plant the bombs.”
Paul sighed deeply, sat across my luggage bag, and bent over with his face in his hands. “Annu, this is just so fucked up. When Marcus and I quit the CIA and decided to go it alone, he was so idealistic. He really thought he could do some good by combatting terrorism as an independent agent. Now he’s somehow gotten so twisted up with hate that he really seems to think he can make the world a better place by violence. God knows what he’ll try to do next. And Lim… what in God’s name did that girl ever see in him? Did she really fall for his bullshit about breaking down the world order so it could be rebuilt better?”
Ignoring the fact that I was half naked, I walked close to him, leaning down, I put my arm on his shoulder in what I hoped was a comforting gesture. I tried to ease his mind, if only a little. “At least she finally came to her senses after that previous fiasco of an operation. When she saw him kill a dozen innocent people without caring, she began to realize who he’d turned into. As long as Marcus doesn’t realize she’s turned against him, she can leak us incredibly useful information—the fact that they’re currently in Belarus. If we get there fast enough, we might be able to get her out of this mess and stop Marcus’s killings.”
Paul gazed out the window. We sat in silence for several minutes, our arms wrapped around each other, as we thought about the perversity of the world and the profound losses, we had both suffered and might still suffer if we couldn’t get Lim free of Marcus without her being further incriminated.
Perhaps it was the fact that Paul was tightly holding a woman clad only in a flimsy T-shirt, but I could feel the sorrow slowly ebbing from his body, replaced by a slow rekindling of the passion that the police had interrupted. Suddenly, a powerful connection ignited between us.
He leaned in, and as I closed my eyes, our lips met in a passionate collision, leading to a series of fervent kisses, including an exploratory dance on our tongues. But it didn't stop there. Leaving both my hands, he gently pulled me close to him, brushed my hair aside to reveal my eyes, and then leaned in for another kiss. This time, I responded with equal fervor, and our connection deepened.
I gently rested one hand on his shoulder while the other tenderly caressed his neck and kept kissing. Soon, his one hand ran over my breasts while the other slid down from my stomach to my groin area and then to my pussy, directly touching my clit. A shiver coursed through my body, and an involuntary moan escaped my lips.
At that moment, I was completely absorbed and focused on passionate kissing, unaware of anything else around me. Meanwhile, his hands slid under the T-shirt and firmly explored my buttocks, applying a mixture of forceful squeezes, light slaps, and delicate pinches, as he desired. All I could muster were passionate moans of pure enjoyment, reveling in every move he made.
He tenderly touched my lower back, overwhelmed by passion, before breaking the kiss and quickly pulling up my T-shirt. I willingly raised my arms, letting him remove it entirely, and we shared another passionate kiss.
I stood completely naked before him, savoring the sensation of his hands caressing every inch of my body and sending shivers through me. I could feel my pussy getting wet. Eventually, I reached for his erect dick, tracing my fingers along the outline of his hardness beneath his pants. I explored every part of him while he sensually stroked my most intimate area. I somehow managed to lower his pants while he slipped two fingers inside my moist pussy.
I moaned aloud this time, “Ohhh.”
Our lips locked in a passionate embrace, tongues entwined in a dance of desire, while his skilled hand explored the depths of my fervent cunt. As I gently caressed his throbbing dick, his manhood grew taut and unyielding, aching to fire.
In an intoxicating moment, he broke our kiss, his primal desire taking over. With a purposeful fervor, he guided me to the plush couch, a canvas for our shared longing. As I reclined sensuously upon its inviting surface, our eyes locked in a fierce, heated connection. Without hesitation, he descended to his knees, ready to fulfill my deepest yearnings.
Parting my legs seductively, he sensually traced his tongue from the depths of my asshole, lingering on every delicate part until reaching the apex of my pleasure, my clit. A tantalizing shiver surged through me, electrifying my senses.
It had been an eternity since I had experienced such intimate attention, and I surrendered to the overwhelming ecstasy, releasing a passionate, breathy moan, "Ohhh, yesss..."
He sensually explored every inch of my intimate folds with his tantalizing tongue. His expert caresses danced from the soft contours of my delicate petals to the most tender spots, causing an electrifying surge of pleasure that made it nearly impossible to maintain my composure.
My fingers instinctively entwined in his hair, pulling him closer as I guided his every movement, my voice slipping into a symphony of sensual moans and gasps. "Oh, yes, right there; ahhh, that's it; oh, my, yes."
My orgasm began to surge within me, my heart quickening its rhythm. My legs quivered in anticipation, and in that electrifying instant, he added the final flourish, gently penetrating two fingers inside my most intimate depth, my cunt, while simultaneously teasing my sensitive clit with his tongue. I purred, "Mmm, just like that, right there, ohh, that's the spot, oh, my, yes."
As the core of my existence trembled, a sensual shiver ran through me. I passionately embraced my own desire, yielding to the enchanting wave of pleasure that enveloped me, akin to an ardent symphony of longing.
Immediately, I shifted my posture, enticingly guiding him to rise from his knees. He stood and settled beside me on the couch, his presence igniting a fiery passion within me. I went on my knees and seductively leaned in to explore his dick. I used my tongue to lick his arousal and sensuously enveloped it in the warmth of my mouth.
He collected every strand of my lush black hair, twining them around his fingers with a gentle yet firm grip. As our desire intensified, I spat on his dick, teasingly tracing a moist path along his throbbing arousal with my tongue. Simultaneously, his fingers explored the depths between my trembling thighs, igniting a fiery dance on my clit one more time.
He cupped his hand around the back of my head, urging me to savor his dick all the way in, denying any escape from his throbbing need. He thrust into my mouth in rhythm with the rocking of the train, and I tried to reflect the motion as I bobbed my head against him, letting his dick slide all the way down my throat and then out again for a gasping breath.
Gradually, I found myself losing my breath; my lips and tongue worked in perfect harmony while my body responded with an undeniable fervor.
He released my head, allowing me to catch my breath, but not for long as he put his dick back in my mouth and started to fuck my face roughly.
After five or six minutes of rough face-fucking, he finally released his grip on my head, allowing me to catch my breath again. My face flushed crimson, and saliva dripped from my mouth. He grabbed my right leg and guided me to turn around.
Gracefully, I lowered myself onto his lap. My body responded to the magnetic pull between us. Gently, I positioned his dick at the threshold of my cunt hole. The tantalizing pressure grew as I sensuously sank down, my heart racing with every inch of closeness.
As I descended, his masculine dick began its exquisite journey, slipping into my depths until it disappeared inside my cunt.
With a firm grip on my waist, he led me to bounce atop his dick. As I surrendered to the intimate connection, I began to bounce with rhythmic grace, again letting my body attune its rhythm to the gentle rocking of the train.
Each of his passionate thrusts sent waves of pleasure coursing through my body, his movements teasing and tantalizing my senses. It wasn't long before I succumbed to yet another intoxicating climax, my legs quivering with desire and threatening to give way beneath me. But he was relentless, his ardor driving him to new heights, and he didn't cease his sensual assault until he whispered in a voice heavy with anticipation, "I’m going to cum.”
I rose from his dick and sank to my knees on the plush couch. He reclined sensually and invitingly on the supple leather. With a sultry gaze, I took his hardened dick into my eager mouth and teasingly flicked my tongue over his mushroom top.
The rhythm of my hands, both skilled and sensuous, stroked his throbbing dick while my tongue danced over the velvety crown. In a crescendo of passion, he sprayed his cum into my waiting mouth.
Breathlessly, I succumbed to the intensity of the moment and collapsed on top of him. We remained folded naked in each other’s arms until we arrived in Belarus.
Meanwhile, global news channels swiftly began broadcasting the explosion report, detailing how three successive blasts had claimed the lives of over 10,000 individuals (about the seating capacity of Cameron Basketball Stadium at Duke University).
In response, leaders from around the world, including presidents and prime ministers, extended their condolences. The NATO president also announced the commencement of an investigation to identify the responsible party.
Marcus and Lim embarked on a journey to their secret location. Once they arrived, Marcus initiated a video call with the President of NATO as well as the 27 EU heads of countries, including the Presidents and Prime Ministers of Italy, the UK, France, and Germany.
I had no idea how he had the capacity to pull off a technological feat like that, but I knew that he had pulled together a team of some of the smartest, if not the most well-intentioned, operatives in the world. I wasn’t surprised that he could seize control of so many feeds at once.
“I have reason to believe that the United States was behind the explosions in Moscow and that this is the agent who was responsible.” He displayed a picture of me holding a gun.
Marcus didn’t, at that moment, have any special credibility on the international scene. As far as anyone knew, he was just an ex-CIA agent who had taken it upon himself to root out terrorism. And a picture of a woman holding a gun is hardly proof of anything whatsoever. But Marcus’ various past successes rooting out terrorism, combined with the fact that news of his later, more corrupt exploits hadn’t yet been revealed, gave the accusation at least enough potential credibility to make the world’s leaders concerned.
In response to Marcus's recommendation and in light of the existing evidence, the British Prime Minister, along with the 27 heads of countries of the European Union, jointly opted to formally invite representatives from Washington, D.C., to attend an immediate security summit scheduled to take place in London.
All of this was already happening when we reached Belarus.
Clearly, we needed reinforcements, especially on the technical side. I got in touch with an old acquaintance, Aram Mojtabai, thirty-five years old, six feet tall, a former lover, and a highly skilled computer genius affiliated with MOSSAD.
He possessed extraordinary talents in the realm of cyber hacking and, I must add, was quite adventurous in the bedroom. Plus, given the strategic significance of Israel as one of Belarus' foremost partners in the Middle East, it would be important to have an Israeli on hand as we tried to peel back the layers of Marcus’s plot.
When we arrived at the hotel, we booked two separate rooms with a connecting door, allowing us to move discreetly between the rooms without encountering anyone. After completing our check-in, Aram and I proceeded to our shared room while Paul occupied the other. We tipped the bell boy heavily and placed a ‘Do Not Disturb’ sign on our doors, effectively ensuring that no one, not even room service, would bother us.
To be continued...
