Fingers to her lips and with a barely audible “Shh!” the tall, statuesque woman pushed a fifty dollar bill down the front of the hotel maid’s blouse. The maid was pushing a cart of linens out of a top-floor suite of the Fountainebleau Miami Beach.
“He’s expecting me,” she said in an upper-class English accent as she slipped through the door.
Her dark tresses fell to her shoulders. She had a magnificent body, almost fully visible except for her triangle top bikini and skimpy string bottom in a giraffe print. The 150mm heels on her Pelagia sandals had silver textured leather straps and pushed her height to two meters.
Wide-eyed, the maid giggled, made a small curtsy, and pushed the cart down the hall.
The woman, an agent of the British Secret Service, was on a job.
Stepping through the living room, she found the object of her penetration, his back to her as he peered out the wide window through a birdwatcher’s spotting scope. His thick, ankle-length robe was open, and his right hand slowly stroked his erect cock as his left hand steadied the scope. His dirty blond hair falling below his ears and his shoulders of a weightlifter identified him as a familiar Miami type—a rent boy, but not the cheap sort.
Leiter was right. With what looked like an eight-inch horse cock, this was one not to miss.
The young man wasn’t looking at the blue Atlantic beyond, but at the pool area below.
“Good deal, sir,” he said into the microphone pinned to the lapel of his Egyptian cotton robe. “Now he’s holding a pair of threes, an eight, a ten and a queen.”
The woman, still undetected, unfastened her top, which fell to the floor. Her firm breasts, released, defied gravity. Then she stepped out of her string bottom. Flicking her nipples to attention with her forefingers, the agent prepared her face into a sultry, yet playful, countenance.
His head turned. In less than a second, the young man’s face turned from startled to expectant to lustful as he drank in the sight. Maybe it was only April, but she looked like Miss May.
The woman glided to his side, fell to her knees and wrapped her lips around the pulsing red tip of his prick. Her other hands went to its base and churned them up his length as she worked his swollen head with her lips and tongue. It was a constant, suckling kiss as she slowly, tenderly and expertly caressed and sucked and slurped his pulsating cock.
His eyes closed and his head fell back, hypnotized by her mouth and caresses. Snapping back to reality, he remembered the job at hand.
“Sorry, sir. The phone rang. Now he’s holding two jacks, a pair of threes and a seven.”
He clicked the mic off and folded his hands over the woman’s face as she expertly sucked and flicked his cock with her tongue, lavishing it with saliva. Feeling his erection swell, she released it with a loud slurp.
She trailed her long tongue down his cock as she pushed his balls up with both hands. Looking up the length of his shaft and fluttering her eyes, she purred in her posh English accent, “Don’t you think he’s taken the poor sod for enough today?”
“Another twenty thousand before he equals what he got from the fool yesterday.”
“Hand me that.” She took the microphone and nodded. The young man flipped the switch.
“Shift change, Goldfinger,” she chirped. “Allow me to introduce myself. Bondáge. Jane Bondáge. Her Majesty’s Secret Service. Now, I know what you’re thinking. The Brits don’t have jurisdiction in Florida. And, of course, you’re right. But the Miami Beach police do, and I don’t think they’ll take your little setup lightly. Nod if you follow me.”
She leaned forward and her right breast slid perfectly into the young man’s outstretched hand. Peering through the scope, she watched a startled Goldfinger poolside twenty floors below as he nodded.
“Good fellow! Now, here’s the game plan. You’ll keep dealing for, let’s say, another ninety minutes. You’re going to lose. I’d say you’re going to lose about a quarter million. Nod if you understand.”
“Over and out,” she said, handing the mic back to the young man. “I’d like to explore your magnificent prick more. Then, I’d like to be tied up. But not here.”
Bondáge led the young man into her room, removed her bikini for the second time in a half-hour, and pushed him down on her bed. Pulling his knees apart, she fell to the floor and resumed her ministrations on his cock, now at half-mast.
Her tongue slithered along the underside of the crown before she began sucking the head between her lips. Sliding down, she swirled her tongue around his shaft, working the first few inches with her tongue and lips before taking him deeper and deeper into her throat.
Her hands moved to his hips, a silent signal that let him know she wanted him to fuck her mouth. The room filled with the squelching sound of his cock sliding in and out of Bondáge’s wet mouth as she bobbed on his thrusting shaft.
Clamping a hand around his scrotum to hold his prick in place, she flicked her tongue over his engorged dickhead. Looking up, she smiled and spoke for the first time since leaving Goldfinger’s suite. “Your prick is so wide, it makes my jaw ache,” she cooed. “What’s your name?”
Teetering on the edge, he could barely speak, his breathing fast and shallow. “Jack.”
“Well, Jack, you won’t be jacking off any more today, of that I can assure you.”
She squeezed his shaft and it swelled hugely, pre-cum oozing out of his piss slit. Bondáge twirled her tongue over it to lap up his hot semen.
Resuming her attack on his cock, she took nearly half of it into her mouth, vigorously working the head and shaft. Moments later, he exploded, his hips rising off the bed as semen flooded her mouth, splooge oozing and then quickly leaking past her lips and down her chin. She worked the hot sticky liquid into his thick shaft with both hands, coating and stringing it along his length.
“Lean back, Jack, relax. We’ve got all afternoon. Or, at least, an hour and a half before your boss gets back.”
“That…that…was…” he sputtered.
“The best blow job of your life? Nod if yes. Thank you, dear. After you catch your breath, I want that belt from your robe. I need you to tie me up.”
Ten minutes later, Bondáge was secured to the bedpost with the white cotton belt, her hips on a pillow and her legs thrown back over her head. Her naked and exposed cunt lips were all sticky and sodden and warm. The hole that was the entrance to her cunt gaped open.
Jack wielded a wooden paddle, making her flesh quiver under the strength of every strike that landed heavily on the fleshy part of her buttocks.
As her ass reddened, Jack’s prick stiffened. Bondáge squirmed and howled each time the plank of wood met her flesh. “You fucker! You brute! Do it again!”
More hard slaps followed on her now-burning flesh, reverberating through her body, making her writhe on the bed. Her clit and nipples, fully erect, begged for attention.
“Hey, Jack, can you get it up again? You want to fuck me, Jack? Look at me. I’m soaked! Come on, Jack. Fuck me if you can.”
Making animal noises, he threw down the paddle and untied her, his fingers fumbling in his passion. He pulled her legs down to the bed and tore off his robe.
“Missionary, Jack? Really? Is that the hot new position for you Yanks?” She flipped over before he could move and wiggled her ass at him. Her outer labia were fat and swollen, wide and wet, perfectly framed by the round globes of her ass cheeks. She reached between her legs and separated her inner lips.
His breath came in fast spurts, his cock swelling in his hand as he fell on his knees between her legs, his hands gripping her hips as he readied himself to fuck her doggy style.
She opened wide for him, ready for his thrusts. Bondáge cried out as he slid his enormous cock inside, his stiff rod jutting into her belly. He fucked her like a caveman, his balls swinging in the air.
Rocking back on her hands and knees, she arched her back to accommodate him as he jackhammered her pussy. “Come on, Jack, you can do it. Fill my slutty cunt with your cum.”
He reached around and found her clit. “Oh, god! Yes! Make me come! Fuck me! Fuck me!”
As every inch of him penetrated the gripping walls of her cunt, a heat wave of prickling energy spread from her pussy, up her belly and to her swaying breasts. As he relentlessly tortured her stiff clit with his fingers, white-hot convulsions swept through her as her pussy squeezed Jack’s cock in a tight, throbbing embrace.
As her orgasm jolted through her, his fingers held their position between her legs as he continued fucking her mercilessly. Her body was no longer under her control. Bondáge was just an animal, a flushed and shaking body craving his thrusting and his unrelenting friction against her clit.
Then she felt his own orgasm rupture inside her. He cried out like a wild beast, his hands now gripping her hips, and his thrusts came so fiercely that he hit bottom, deep inside her cunt. Inside, she held his heat, as if it would never leave her, and she kept on coming, wave after wave of sexual energy washing over her.
Ruined and gasping for air, Jack fell down on the bed next to her, pulling her to him like she was a rag doll. He kissed her deeply, holding her tight against him. Bondáge lay there, exposed, vulnerable and shameless, as she entered the heavy slump that signaled the end of her orgasms.
An hour later, she awoke and slid out of Jack’s arms. In the bathroom, she reached down to pick up a tissue she had dropped, when she fell into a deep, dark, spiraling hole that kept going down, down, down…
[Excerpt from the upcoming Goldfingered]