Aye, Hot and Bothered
anonymous
December 31 2011, 23:57:20 UTC
Well past nine at night, their Bentley had recording devices listening and recording the information they needed to obtain, and it was parked in a dark place, so no one could see what was happening.
Agent Holley Shiftwell was a young woman, a newer agent: curvy body, bright green eyes, dyed hair: natural colour blond, current colour a mix of purple and red. Her partner for this assignment was Special Agent Finn McMissile, who while being at least twenty years older, was still quite attractive and looked rather dashing in his black and white suit, combined with his more-black-than-grey hair and his green eyes.
“How long do you think that meeting is supposed to go on for?” Holley asked.
“It’s been about an hour, so could be another hour, Shiftwell.”
Despite this being part of her job: surveillance, it was boring, especially seeing as they were not planning on making any arrests, but rather merely intelligence gathering. And she wore her standard-issue long-sleeved dress shirt, with black tie and the standard-issue pencil skirt.
“It’s kind of warm in here; do you think we could turn on the AC?” Holley asked.
“That would interfere with our intelligence gathering equipment,” Finn replied.
Holley cursed under her breath, and pulled at her tie, pulling it off and let it fall off onto the floor.
“But I do agree that it is warm in here, Agent Shiftwell,” Finn said. He watched her unbutton her shirt until bra material was exposed, as was cleavage. She waved her hand at her face in an attempt to cool herself down. And he could not help it if his very British decorum was starting to fall away. He made a sound that sounded like a groan.
“Agent Shiftwell, your brassiere is showing,” Finn said.
“I know it,” Holley said. She pulled her skirt up a bit, showing at least half of her thighs. She watched him grab at his tie.
He cleared his throat.
She grinned at him and continued to do so when she watched the hand that grabbed his tie drop down to his pants.
“Agent Finn, am I making you hot and bothered?” Holley asked.
“Aye,” Finn said.
She touched Finn’s panted thigh briefly before touching his cock through the material of his pants, being able to feel how hard he was.
He groaned.
She unzipped his pants before grabbing his hand and placing it on her thigh and he held it there.
“Backseat or your seat?” Holley asked.
“My seat; easier,” he gasped.
“Aye,” Holley said.
She hiked her skirt up a bit more, first pulling Finn’s cock out. She then quickly shifted so that she climbed over to his side, carefully sitting on his lap, facing him and showing more of her thighs (muscular from training, silky smooth and blemish free from her skin care regimen), and her panties.
He put a hand on her upper thigh before grabbing her panties, pushing the crotch of it aside, and rubbing her clit with a thumb.
“Oh,” Holley said, biting her lip.
She adjusted herself so she was closer to Finn, his cock touching her vulva for a moment before they shared a look and as they kissed, his cock entered her.
He put one of his hands on her bra-covered breasts and squeezed as he thrust upwards and she pushed back against him, reciprocating, riding him, her arms around him, occasionally touching her chest.
He rubbed her nipple and her clit with the same hand, alternatively, changing every few minutes; with the other hand holding onto her hip and enjoying her vocalizations, such as “Oh!” and “Fuck!”
She sucked on his neck briefly making him moan loudly and he continued to play with her nipples and clit, and continue to thrust while she pushed back, which made her continue to moan, and toss her head back with soft sighs of “Finn,” before she paused to whisper in his ear, her hair tickling his face as she did so, “Your surname is right; you are a missile.”
He groaned in pleasure, Holley’s acute hearing noting that it sounded like her name.
She gave a louder moan as he gave a good upward thrust, her insides clenching against him and held onto him as she rode out a climax, and gave a “Ahh!”; Finn followed with a long groan and deep sigh, and a whisper of “Aye, Holley.”
Agent Holley Shiftwell was a young woman, a newer agent: curvy body, bright green eyes, dyed hair: natural colour blond, current colour a mix of purple and red. Her partner for this assignment was Special Agent Finn McMissile, who while being at least twenty years older, was still quite attractive and looked rather dashing in his black and white suit, combined with his more-black-than-grey hair and his green eyes.
“How long do you think that meeting is supposed to go on for?” Holley asked.
“It’s been about an hour, so could be another hour, Shiftwell.”
Despite this being part of her job: surveillance, it was boring, especially seeing as they were not planning on making any arrests, but rather merely intelligence gathering. And she wore her standard-issue long-sleeved dress shirt, with black tie and the standard-issue pencil skirt.
“It’s kind of warm in here; do you think we could turn on the AC?” Holley asked.
“That would interfere with our intelligence gathering equipment,” Finn replied.
Holley cursed under her breath, and pulled at her tie, pulling it off and let it fall off onto the floor.
“But I do agree that it is warm in here, Agent Shiftwell,” Finn said. He watched her unbutton her shirt until bra material was exposed, as was cleavage. She waved her hand at her face in an attempt to cool herself down. And he could not help it if his very British decorum was starting to fall away. He made a sound that sounded like a groan.
“Agent Shiftwell, your brassiere is showing,” Finn said.
“I know it,” Holley said. She pulled her skirt up a bit, showing at least half of her thighs. She watched him grab at his tie.
He cleared his throat.
She grinned at him and continued to do so when she watched the hand that grabbed his tie drop down to his pants.
“Agent Finn, am I making you hot and bothered?” Holley asked.
“Aye,” Finn said.
She touched Finn’s panted thigh briefly before touching his cock through the material of his pants, being able to feel how hard he was.
He groaned.
She unzipped his pants before grabbing his hand and placing it on her thigh and he held it there.
“Backseat or your seat?” Holley asked.
“My seat; easier,” he gasped.
“Aye,” Holley said.
She hiked her skirt up a bit more, first pulling Finn’s cock out. She then quickly shifted so that she climbed over to his side, carefully sitting on his lap, facing him and showing more of her thighs (muscular from training, silky smooth and blemish free from her skin care regimen), and her panties.
He put a hand on her upper thigh before grabbing her panties, pushing the crotch of it aside, and rubbing her clit with a thumb.
“Oh,” Holley said, biting her lip.
She adjusted herself so she was closer to Finn, his cock touching her vulva for a moment before they shared a look and as they kissed, his cock entered her.
He put one of his hands on her bra-covered breasts and squeezed as he thrust upwards and she pushed back against him, reciprocating, riding him, her arms around him, occasionally touching her chest.
He rubbed her nipple and her clit with the same hand, alternatively, changing every few minutes; with the other hand holding onto her hip and enjoying her vocalizations, such as “Oh!” and “Fuck!”
She sucked on his neck briefly making him moan loudly and he continued to play with her nipples and clit, and continue to thrust while she pushed back, which made her continue to moan, and toss her head back with soft sighs of “Finn,” before she paused to whisper in his ear, her hair tickling his face as she did so, “Your surname is right; you are a missile.”
He groaned in pleasure, Holley’s acute hearing noting that it sounded like her name.
She gave a louder moan as he gave a good upward thrust, her insides clenching against him and held onto him as she rode out a climax, and gave a “Ahh!”; Finn followed with a long groan and deep sigh, and a whisper of “Aye, Holley.”
Reply
Reply
Reply
Leave a comment