The Agent, The Angels, and The Mexican Connection

[Praefectus Praetorio]

The second book in the Agent Series. I need to thank Jon Smithie for support, suggestions and corrections. And Madiosi for a manipulation which will be at the very end, but well worth waiting for.

The Agent, The Angels, and The Mexican Connection

Chapter One

October 7, 1963. CIA Headquarters, Langley, Virginia, U.S.A

I sat in my station chief {Wragg}’s office, drinking his fine 15-year-old Mortlach Scotch. He had only been promoted six-months before (and I raised to Agent Handler status at the same time) but already seemed comfortable in his office. I was not. Whenever he invited in for his Scotch, there was bad news coming. The worst had been when our former station chief {thehangingtree} had signed off on assigning me a rookie to infiltrate Castro’s Cuba – what a fuck-up that had been! (In case you’re wondering what happened to {thehangingtree}, I’m afraid my lips are sealed – very hush hush, upper echelon business, highly classified [side whisper – ever hear of the Betty Ford Clinic? That’s all I’m saying])

After a good sip of the very smooth Scotch

({Wragg} was a good boss, but even better in his taste for Scotch), he started beating around the bush. How, was I settling in? how was my team coming? what did I think about that new Sheikh we were worried about in the Middle East? Did I think we had a chance to turn the tide in Laos? I became increasingly uncomfortable. When {Wragg} had a regular assignment for you, he came right out with it. If he didn’t like the deal, he would stall telling you. The longer he stalled, the worse the deal. This was developing into one of the longest ever; it almost made me think about my mission and the one for the Bay of Pigs invasion! But I knew it couldn’t be that bad. Those were probably the most screwed up set of missions the Agency ever fucked up.

Finally he came out with it. “Jewels, have you ever heard of the Mexican Connection?”

Of course, I had. “The biggest drug smuggling cartel there is? It keeps Drug Enforcement Administration and Customs on their toes; and I gather they are not winning!”

“No, they aren’t. The White House is getting all exercised about it. With all the foreign policy problems, the civil rights explosion in the South, and weak economy, they don’t want to see nice suburban parents finding marijuana in their high school kids lunch box. If it keeps growing like it is now, the Republicans will have a field day in the next election screaming Law and Order!”

“That’s Kennedy’s problem,” I said, “How the heck does domestic drug enforcement and politics touch the CIA?”

“Because the domestic people are totally out classed by the Mexican organization on this. There’s new leader down there. Customs is using the phrase ‘Drug Lord’ to describe him. They say they’ve never seen one man control so much, have so much power, and corrupt so many officials. His nickname is Niño Malo, means the bad kid, or the bad child.”

“Again,” I said, “Why do we care?”

“Because the DCIA (Director, Central Intelligence Agency) cares! The White House says working in Mexico is something the CIA is authorized to do and had better chance of success than Customs or DEA.”

“Shit, I don’t like what’s coming,” I drained my glass and added a generous pour of his best stock.

“It’s all been decided up top. It’ll be a small operation using some of our best people -your people.”

“Before I puke on your nice new station chief carpet, what is the general idiotic idea here?”

{Wragg} ignored the insubordination. He was well used to it from me. He knew, in the end, I’d do as I was told and do it as well as I possibly could! That’s the downside of being reliable; people rely on you!

He continued. “We’ve got several promising angles to exploit. Niño Malo is headquartered out of Mexico City, pretends to be a legitimate businessman with friends in government. His (mostly) legal business is a chain of bordellos stretching from Mexico City all the way to Nuevo Laredo.”

“That’s just over the Rio Grande from Laredo, Texas. I hear that’s a big drug entry point.”

“The biggest,” said {Wragg}. “Think it’s a coincidence?”

“Like Castro’s favorite drink just happens to be Vodka?”

“Exactly. We also have something in our favor in Mexico City. Somehow, a high Soviet diplomat got the wrong way in one of Niño Malo’s bordellos and disappeared. What they could identify of his body showed up five days later in a ditch. There wasn’t much to examine, so dental records were the only way. And that was just enough for a positive due to the fact that many teeth had been drilled or extracted.”

I shivered involuntarily.

“The KGB in Mexico is hot to help get Niño Malo. You’ll be getting their help.”

“Great, help from someone you can trust!”

“Best you’ve got” said {Wragg} with a wry smile.

A dark thought had been festering in the back of my mind for a while. Now the smell hit me hard. “Why’re my people good for this?” I said, dreading the answer.

“Jewels, you have to admit, your ‘Angels’ as you call them, would be perfect to go undercover in Niño Malo’s bordellos!”

 

[Praefectus Praetorio]

The Agent, The Angels, and The Mexican Connection

Chapter Two

October 7, 1963. D minus 45; CIA Headquarters, Langley, Virginia, U.S.A

“Jewels, you have to admit, your ‘Angels’ as they’re called, would be perfect to go undercover in Niño Malo’s bordellos!”

Knowing Wragg, he had already done all he could to fight this stupid idea. I didn’t make too big a fuss. I would just have to do my best to keep my team safe. I did insist that I would go to the Embassy in Mexico City to be as near as possible to supervise and protect my people. Wragg agreed without question.

Back at my new office, I had my new secretary, Mrs. Roberts summon the ‘Angels’ to a conference room for an initial briefing.

The biggest perk of my promotion was not the office, but the assigning of a secretary. This was made a far bigger perk by fact that the secretary was Willow Roberts. I had admired Willow from a distance for years. She was, in my opinion the most competent girl in the pool. At 5’ 4” and barely 110 pounds, Mrs. Roberts had every inch of that height and every pound of that weight in the right place. While being a very cheerful, pleasant person, Willow had a remarkable strength in her and could be totally counted on to do whatever she was asked to do. Some of the men in the office were turned off by her strong personality and made jokes about her being a ‘difficult’ redhead; I found it arousing! And her honey-red hair seemed to be the perfect shade. But of course, I was already out of the mainstream by my championing of the ‘Angels’ when many still thought there was no place for ‘girls’ in our work. I wonder how many of them would think a girl couldn’t handle this work if they had known Eula [see The Agent, The Girl, and the Fidelistas, CruxForums Edition 2018]

Daydreaming of Mrs. Roberts’s nicely rounded and full ass, I walked slowly to the conference room. Forcing those pleasant dreams out of my mind, I began assembling in my mind what I would say to the ‘Angels’. As I entered the room, Kathy and Julia stood in the usual manner for someone of my rank or above. Barb did not. I told them to sit and looked at my ‘team’.

Starting with the youngest and most junior member, Julia was 20 years old. She had been 18 and away with relatives when her sister Eula and brother Windar were killed by the Fidelistas. Six months later, after relentless fighting on my part with authority, I had her extracted from Cuba and brought to the U.S. where I acted as her guardian. After another six months of constant denial of her requests, I gave in when she turned 19 and allowed her to enter the training program for agents. It didn’t surprise me at all that she was the top of her class and used her iron determination to excel at every challenge. She had acquitted herself well on three missions of increasing sophistication and danger. I fully expected her to honor her sister’s memory by being one of the best ever to work for the Agency.

Small and dark with thick, flowing black hair and soulful eyes, Julia had a thin figure and could turn on charm and eroticism to melt any man (as she had already done to one of Castro’s best agents on her last mission. After she finished getting a raft of secrets from him, she’d sent him back to Cuba, where he was executed immediately for treason). Julia’s only failing to date was a slight amount of hero worship of me. That would fade with time.

Kathy was a unique case. She had been a bored file clerk in Atlanta before chucking it all and moving to Jamaica to be a prostitute. She has a remarkable enthusiasm and joy for sex with anyone, anywhere, along with a finely developed business sense. With her enthusiasm, her 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, she was a bundle of energy. Not surprisingly she was fabulously successful at her new ‘profession’ and after five years was quite the wealthy woman, with substantial investment in IBM and Xerox.

After our tragic mission to the Bay of Pigs, I visited Jamaica and Kathy, who worked for me as a paid informant (always thinking money). I told her of the obscene death of Eula and torture of Barb (for whom Kathy had developed a sapphic affection). Then Kathy did something that astounded me. She suddenly got deadly serious, looked me in the eye, and said, “That cannot stand Jewels! We have to make things better in this world!” And just like that, she gave up her work, moved to the Langley area and trained to be a CIA agent. Now 27-years-old, she had been successful on four missions and developed a reputation for being hard as nails and able to seduce anything with a pulse.

Three years after this, NBC spun off the series The Girl from U.N.C.L.E. Everyone at Langley claimed it was based on Kathy

And then there was Barb, codename {Barbara Moore}. The one who wouldn’t rise for me. She had been on her first mission with me in Cuba. It was a very traumatic experience for her. The mental and physical scars had been deep. Modern plastic surgery had covered most of the latter, but the former took much longer. It had taken a four month leave for her to be able to come back to the office. But in the end, she was stronger than ever. Her insubordinate attitude at the Agency was partly a result of observing the same attitude in me and partly her own rebellious spirit. I couldn’t reprimand her for what I admired in her!

Did I say what a knock-out she was? When I had first met her, I was struck by a sweet, but slightly pouty face with liquid brown eyes. Her hair was a lovely brown, which I later would learn showed sexy red highlights in sunlight. She was slim with legs that seemed to go forever, 5’ 5” and 115 lbs. (I always judge those things for professional reasons – I had to carry her, unconscious, for over ten miles in Cuba). She was only 20 when I met her and I was 34

On the Cuban mission, I had let my professionalism slip, and we became passionate lovers. After the painful end of the mission (especially for Barb), I had chosen to end the relationship. She acquiesced, though I never knew whether with relief or regret. Since then we have had a good professional relationship.

Now 22, Barb had been on two missions since our first and compiled a fine record. (Although, if truth be told, she always seemed to need a little closer supervision than the others. I’m not saying she screwed up. But she could sometimes not use the best judgement. She had a tendency toward complaining and pouting which was noted in her confidential file)

Since I had assembled this all-woman team (others in the department smirked: “all-girl”, and compared them to a cheerleading squad), I had run several successful missions and earned the praise of Wragg and even of the DDO. I hated the demeaning comments made about these strong, brave, dedicated women, and looked for a way to give then a collective recognition.

One day I happened to notice this decal on the back of a truck


Her strong, sexy look reminded me of my agents. From them on. I referred to my team as the ‘angels’ and the name stuck.

Today’s meeting was short and sweet. I gave the broad outline of what we knew and what we were expected to do. Then I assigned research work to each angel and set one week for the next meeting. As the professionals they are, the ‘angels’ received the information without comment or emotion. However, when I explained their roles as undercover prostitutes in the bordellos, there were some laughs and giggles. Julia said, “You mean whores, Boss?” and both she and Barb gave Kathy a knowing glance.

Kathy wiggled her hips suggestively and cooed in her most innocent Georgia accent, “I’ve told you ladies, that I prefer to be referred to as a sex professional. Unlike some of the sluts I know, who give it away for free!” We all broke out into a big laugh which broke the tension, I set the following Friday for the next meeting.

 

[Praefectus Praetorio]

The Agent, The Angels, and The Mexican Connection

Chapter Three

October 15, 1963. D minus 38; CIA Headquarters, Langley, Virginia, U.S.A

Early the following Friday, The Angels and I assembled in a conference room that Mrs. Roberts had secured and provided with a generous supply of coffee and donuts from the new franchise in Langley, Mr. Donut. I had also asked Willow to join us to take notes. She takes excellent shorthand.

First, we reviewed what we had learned about Niño Malo’s background, researched by Kathy

His parents had been American communists, who, frustrated in their desire to go to Russia, renounced their U.S. citizenship and moved to Mexico in 1930 to support communism there. Six months later, their only child, a boy was born. Juan Smithie was almost immediately neglected by his parents in their revolutionary zeal. He was sent to slum public schools (his parents despised money and any privilege) where he was bullied and beat up as an Anglo!

As he grew and survived, he joined gangs for protection. He was very smart and a fast learner. By the time he was 16, he was leading his own gang. A shrewd political sense and ruthless use of terror when needed, ensured a quick rise. As his enterprises grew, his innate business sense showed out and he became a business mogul as well as a brutal gangster.

Now 33, and going exclusive by Niño Malo, He ran, among other things, a chain of high-price, high-class bordellos. Ciudad de México, San Luis Potosie, Monterey, and Nuevo Laredo were the largest in a tight chain from the Capital to the Texas Border. Kathy mentioned that he is said to be handsome.

I complimented her on the fine research in a short time. I was very proud that my agents could do research and intelligence gathering as well as shoot-em-up field work.

I was also pleased with the way Willow sat when taking notes, with her lovely legs crossed. She seemed to be wearing a shorter skirt today, and it was a bit tighter too.

Then it was Julia’s turn to report on Niño’s drug empire. I was pleased with how quickly she had obtained the information.

The man seemed to have richly deserved the title, “Drug Lord.” Unsatisfied with the meager profits from having a tiny piece of the business in competition with many others, Niño had ruthlessly pursued two objectives.

First, he built a fully integrated, farm to border operation. His gang ran the Marijuana farms in the central hills around Mexico City, the harvesting, drying and seasoning, then the transportation all the way into Texas.

Second, he set out to eliminate the competition. Using ruthless, over-the-top brutality and terror, he forced one after another of his rivals to become his subsidiaries, leave the business, or die horribly.

The one big mystery was how exactly he transported the product from warehouses in Ciudad de México to border crossings at Nuevo Laredo.

I told Julia that she was making excellent progress in her reporting.

I also noticed that Willow sometimes wiggled on the chair which caused her skirt to work its way a little up her thighs. I was glad I was sitting at the table so my bulge could not be seen.

Now the skirt was almost to the top of her thighs, threatened to reveal improper exposure. Using skills gained from years in the field, I didn’t let the angels see me notice it.

[Editorial Input by the Angels]

Julia – Poor Jewels, even I saw him trying to look up Willow’s skirt. Not that I mind, He is a bit lonely and Mrs. Roberts is very hot, even to me. Jewels deserves a good woman in his life.

Kathy - I got to know Jewels intimately before I came to the agency, and I spotted two months ago how he watched Willow like a randy goat. Jewels is very sweet and very shy, and it was cute watching him try to hide the attraction. I’m sure Mrs. Roberts knows and enjoys the attention.

Barbara – Jewels had better watch it or he’ll get slapped with a harassment charge. The old guy had better keep it in his pants. Everybody knows!
Casually trying to ignore Willow’s spectacular thighs, I turned to Barb for her report on the Bordello business.

It is not clear why Niño Malo got into the sex business in a big way about five years ago. His properties are upscale, with superior product (whores) presented in luxurious surrounding. The properties specialized somewhat in more kinky desires, with an emphasis on mild BDSM, at a substantial premium fee.

No whore seemed to leave Niño Malo ever. It was rumored that discipline was very strict, almost always administered by the boss himself.

While the bordello report was complete, it seemed to have neglected to follow up on some issues such as why he got in the business, any weaknesses he might have, the management structure of the individual houses, and what happened to the whores that left. I supposed that Barb had done all possible and the information was simply not available.

I adjourned the meeting for lunch and followed Mrs. Roberts (and her wonderful ass) out of the room to discuss how I wanted the notes handled. Despite the difficulty of the mission, the angels were in a good mood; I heard them giggling loudly behind me at some something funny, as I followed Willow.

After lunch, we began working out the operational details of the mission. First question was how many angels to imbed (yes, I know, but it’s the technical term) in the bordello operation? We quickly decided all three, each in a different location. While this had the serious downside that they couldn’t support each other, we also didn’t really know what we were looking for. To be successful in a short time deadline (38 days left), we needed to explore as many avenues as possible.

I would serve as general backup. My cover, while working up of the U.S. Embassy, would be a low-level, career diplomat, “Cuban Cultural Liaison” who supplemented his income by a little white slavery. I would procure the angels for Niño with the promise of more Anglos in the future. This would give me easy access to the bordellos.

It was 5:30 and we had accomplished a lot. The outline of the mission was together. Now the careful details would be filled in. Setting the next meeting for Monday, I invited the angels to the private bar maintained for field agents on the second floor (directly under the office of the DDO). Mrs. Roberts had never been there, so I thought it would be nice to ask her along, since she was working so hard on our notes and plans.

We found a table for five and ordered drinks. Barb, a Mosel Riesling; Kathy a dry vodka martini, three olives; Julia (though underage, no one would refuse her service while I was there) had a Chardonnay;

I had my usual G&T with Bombay Sapphire Gin with extra lime (I’d upgraded from Tanqueray since my promotion). Willow, to my delight ordered a G&T but asked for “house: gin. Overcoming her objection to the price, I insisted she have Bombay.

We hung out and drank for about an hour and a half and then broke up for the weekend. I gallantly offered Mrs. Roberts a ride home, but she had her car.
[Editorial Input by the Angels]

“Why didn’t she let him drive. You could see she wanted to!” Julia

“All evening Jewels couldn’t take his eyes off Willow. Mooning like a puppy. Very cute and very silly!” - Kathy

“Tried to get her to “ride” with him. Knew where that would end! She looked interested but, in the end wisely refused.” -Barb

 

[Barbaria1]

. Barb, a Mosel Riesling;

Of course ... what else ?

 

[Praefectus Praetorio]

The Mexican Connection
Charlie's Angels episode (season 1, episode 2)
An unwitting pilot whose plane has been used to smuggle drugs hires the Angels to crack a heroin ring operating out of Mexico.

The Angels head to Mexico to infiltrate a heroin smuggling ring & unearth the identity of a mysterious smuggler known as Escobar; Sabrina poses as a stewardess, Jill as a swimming coach and Kelly as a vacationing schoolmarm.

 

[Praefectus Praetorio]

View attachment 626983 Of course ... what else ?

Only the best for you, sweet Lady!

 

[Praefectus Praetorio]

The Mexican Connection
Charlie's Angels episode (season 1, episode 2)
An unwitting pilot whose plane has been used to smuggle drugs hires the Angels to crack a heroin ring operating out of Mexico.View attachment 626984

The Angels head to Mexico to infiltrate a heroin smuggling ring & unearth the identity of a mysterious smuggler known as Escobar; Sabrina poses as a stewardess, Jill as a swimming coach and Kelly as a vacationing schoolmarm.

"The plot revolves around drug smuggling where a main competitor is having an issue with an upstart drug dealer named Escobar. The episode is from 1976 which actually aligns to when Pablo Escobar began his smuggling operations. Plot supposedly drawn from leaked CIA operation." - IMBD

 

[windar]

View attachment 626983 Of course ... what else ?

Since when is Riesling PINK?

 

[Praefectus Praetorio]

Since when is Riesling PINK?

Good Catch!

 

[Barbaria1]

Since when is Riesling PINK?

It isn’t... that’s the only wine drinking pic I have.

 

[bobinder]

It isn’t... that’s the only wine drinking pic I have.

 

[Barbaria1]

View attachment 626992

I knew YOU were going to do that, but surprised you didn’t turn the wine to a nice white Mosel.

 

[bobinder]

I knew YOU were going to do that, but surprised you didn’t turn the wine to a nice white Mosel.

I can't turn water into wine, but I can do vice versa...



Although I'm not entirely sure what you've got in your glass now...

 

[Barbaria1]

I can't turn water into wine, but I can do vice versa...

View attachment 626997

Although I'm not entirely sure what you've got in your glass now...

Purrfect

 

[toxidomaskjr]

The Angels going on an undercover mission as hookers on a seedy and dangerous place???...What could possibly go wrong?....Make them work harder than the other strippers/prostitutes!

 

[Barbaria1]

Make them work harder than the other strippers/prostitutes!

oh come on now ... there is a limit, you know!

 

[Praefectus Praetorio]

The Agent, The Angels, and The Mexican Connection

Chapter Four

October 18, 1963. D minus 35; CIA Headquarters, Langley, Virginia, U.S.A

Bright and early Monday, the team was back in the conference room. This week constituted the most important and most boring part of our preparation: coming up with a fully detailed plan for the operation.

We always knew that plans could go awry, and nothing could be perfect. But I had drilled into my team, what I had learned as a rookie agent. Always have a bullet-proof plan with multiple alternative paths and know it backwards and forwards. Barb, having experienced all that could go wrong on our first mission together, was always a little skeptical of a plan, but in the end learned it. Kathy and Julia knew to approach the plan like our lives depended on every word! (which they often did)

October 20, 1963. D minus 33; CIA Headquarters, Langley, Virginia, U.S.A

On Wednesday, we met with Wragg in his office to go over what we had. There was no one better to pick apart a plan and suggest improvement. He made a few minor suggestions as we laid it out. At the end, he sat with his eyes shut, steepling his hands and thinking deeply (or taking a nap you never knew with Wragg, great boss, but could nap off in a moment.)

“Why would a smart Mexican Drug Lord and Sex Entrepeneur jump into bed with a Gringo, from the embassy, who he’s never heard of before?”

“Jump into bed figuratively ladies,” as the angels snickered. Even Wragg cracked a smile at the thought of me in bed with Niño Malo!

“I know,” I said, “it is the best we got, but it is a worry.”

“I can help,” said Wragg. A Station Chief has pull for more than choosing the Mazak in the office. We have some friends high up in the Medellín cartel in Columbia. They have an operation a little like Niño and likely have contact with him. We’ve been helping them against their rivals the Cali cartel and the Los Pepes. DCIA and Drug Enforcement Administration decided Medellín would be more malleable to our interests. They should owe us a favor. I’ll see if we can get someone there to make a recommendation or even introduction.”

We agreed that would be ideal. The team left and reassembled in the conference room to incorporate his suggestions and refine details. Barb stated that she had an urgent personal matter to take care of. I allowed her the afternoon off.

Late that afternoon, I was in my office pushing papers (the least favorite part of my promotion), when Mrs. Roberts (the most favorite part of my promotion), entered with my phone messages.

Suddenly, after four months of wimpy cowardice, I managed to ask her, “So I never hear of Mr. Roberts, what does he do?”

Willow frowned, “Nothing good.” She sat down on the chair opposite my desk. Her hem seemed to ride up on its own again, (not that I noticed, I was concentrating on the sad look in her deep green eyes)

“Four years ago, I got this job, which I love by the way; I met him; we dated for a year; we got married when I was 27. Soon I learned it was a terrible mistake. He was abusive. Somehow, I lived with it for two years, trapped! Then a year ago, at 29, I got divorced.”

My concern was not feigned. “Would you like me to look up the darling Mr. Roberts? I’d be more than glad to show him some of the more painful CIA stress positions,” I said with a cold voice.

Willow smiled and gave a tiny laugh (God, that’s attractive) “No, thank you. Tempting as that seems, I’m pretty over him now. I’ve settled down and I’m happy enough to be single and free of men like him. I’m afraid I’ve become somewhat mistrustful”

I think she might have detected a little disappointment on my face at the ‘free of men’ comment, because she added quickly. “I get to do pretty much what I please, with whom I please.”

I thanked her for her frankness and assured her I was always available if she needed to talk. She seemed genuinely appreciative and said she did trust me! I watched her (ass) leave the room and was deep in sympathetic thought when Barb burst in!

“Did you get your personal matter handled,” I asked.

“What? Personal? Oh yeah, handled!”

“I’m glad,” I said sincerely; I still had feelings for her. “Great.”

“Jewels, this will be the first mission when the whole team is together. I was wondering are you going to designate a number two while we’re in Mexico?”

“I had just thought a little about that this afternoon. Since I’ll be the safest of the group in the Embassy most of the time, it won’t be necessary. But I am thinking of naming Kathy since she’s done such a great job on the research and plan, and since she will also be in Mexico City, while you and Julia will be in Nuevo Laredo and Monterey respectively.”

Barb’s eyes narrowed slightly. “While I’m in Nuevo Laredo, I’ll be closest to the U.S. and best able to cross the border or to provide assistance to one of the others. As senior agent, I would think you would make me number two!” Her tone made my back stiffen a little. I decided not to challenger her at that time.

“I haven’t really thought too hard about it yet, Barb. I’ll consider your point and decide later. Please don’t think that I don’t respect you as my longest serving agent!”

Barb flashed one of her smiles guaranteed to melt the male heart, gave me a very improper kiss on the cheek, and spun on her heel to leave the room!

October 22, 1963. D minus 31; CIA Headquarters, Langley, Virginia, U.S.A

By mid-afternoon Friday, we had completed the plan, reviewed it with Wragg and gotten his approval. He also indicated that the Medellín recommendation would probably be forthcoming from the leader, Pablo Escobar, himself.

I sent the angels home about 3, to get a good rest over the weekend and as a reward for all their hard work.

All that was left was for Willow to type up the plan for final approval by DDO.

 

[Praefectus Praetorio]

The Agent, The Angels, and The Mexican Connection

Interludio Romántico

October 18, 1963. D minus 35; CIA Headquarters, Langley, Virginia, U.S.A

About 5:00 PM, I stepped out of my office to go home and saw Mrs. Roberts straightening her desk to leave. In a second display of remarkable courage, I walked over and asked her if she had dinner plans. (you might think I’m a suave secret agent who sweeps every woman he meets off their feet with his incredible pick-up lines, but you’d be wrong. In fact, I hadn’t had a date since breaking up with Barb almost two years ago.)

Willow looked unsure, and then gave me a sweet smile. “I’d love to have dinner with you, Jewels. Pick me up in a half hour?”



Getting out of my car and walking to her door was difficult. I was trying to remember if I’d used antiperspirant that morning -it didn’t seem to be working.

Truth be told, I’ve never had much confidence with women, Up to that time, I’d never actually been told by a woman that I was good in bed! (except by Kathy - any man who believes a whore’s complements, even as wonderful a whore as Kathy, should have his head and wallet examined!)

I knocked on her door. When she opened the door, I forgot all about my insecurity. Willow was wearing a dress that looked like it had been painted on! (It wasn’t, I can assure you, because I snuck multiple looks to be sure -you can tell by looking at certain places…never mind). Low-cut and a sweet robin’s egg blue, it only came down to about 8 inches above her knees. I had heard of short dresses, but had never been this close to one! Oh those legs!

After a few moments when my motor control returned, I helped her into my 1961 DeSoto. Yes, some may scoff that it’s not a hot secret agent car, but it is now a rare collector’s item that I bought new. Chrysler stopped production after only 3,000 were made. The styling apparently was such a disaster, that they ended the DeSoto name for ever. I don’t know; I thought it looked cool.

I took her to a nice new restaurant, Le Rivage, with a view across the Tidal.

I’d been there once for lunch and the bistro atmosphere reminded me of Paris. The fashionable crowd wouldn’t be out until later, and the restaurant was still too new to have a large clientele. We got a nice window table with a great view and had most of the place to ourselves. The food was excellent and we shared a bottle of 1949 Chateau Cheval Blanc, Saint-Emilion Grand Cru. I chose it in honor of the year I joined the agency. The wine was smooth and fruity. Willow was soft and lovely. We didn’t talk about work. I can’t remember what we did talk about. We looked out across the mirror-like Tidal Basin to the illuminated circular white marble columns of the Jefferson Memorial, shining bright in the night.
The dinner was romantic, I think.

I drove her home to her apartment complex in Alexandria, where she invited me in for a drink. Sitting on her couch with a snifter of Drambuie (the girl had good taste!) it seemed to be getting warm.

Willow took our glasses and put them on the table. She leaned in close and kissed me softly on the lips. Pulling back, she looked me in the eye and asked. “Is this allowed, Julian?” I said, “Yes,” and kissed her back hard.

I cannot tell you how long we kissed. Our bodies tight, our tongues eagerly exploring each other’s mouths, our hands roving, the erotic energy made me forget there was such a thing as time.

Then, without either of us seeming to have taken the initiative, we were in her bedroom. There, in dim light we performed the strange but wonderful dance of two lovers kissing, touching, and trying to get our clothes off as fast as possible.

As we lay close on the bed, kissing passionately and beginning to explore each other’s body, Willow lifted her head and said, “I’m a very bad girl to seduce my boss this way, aren’t I?”

In my classic laid-back, secret agent, lover mode, I tried to soothe her feelings (she wasn’t going to turn back now! Shit!), “No, no, not at all,” and tried to go back to kissing her.

She put her hand on my mouth and held me back. (Shit! Shit! Shit! shit! Blue ball morning coming!)

She looked at me seriously and sadly with her lovely green eyes, like a little girl who had been caught doing something naughty (alright, what thoughts did you expect me to have at that moment!)

But she was going another direction. “I’m sorry, Jewels, I am being very bad! I think you need to spank me.”

As I picked my jaw off the floor, I muttered something romantic like, “Ah, ah…yeah, I guess.”

Before I knew it, I was sitting on the edge of the bed with this beautiful woman draped across my thighs with her spectacular ass raised and ready for a spanking!

You wouldn’t think it about me, but I’m a pretty unimaginative guy when to comes to sex. I have only had one threesome in my life and I was dragged into that. But if there was something out of the ordinary which interested me, it had always been spanking a girl. I’d never tried it. But on more than one evening by myself, I had been very aroused at the thought, if you know what I mean.

Now here was this lovely, sweet woman, whose ass I had lovingly observed for months wiggling in and out of my office, asking me to spank her. I hate to say no to a Lady, so I did!

I laid a few spanks lightly on her cheeks. I stopped, not knowing how she wanted it. Willow turned and said with a wink, “Much more, Jewels, and much harder!”

I might be a little shy about sex, but at that point, I wasn’t going to stop. I laid it on hard and long, enjoying her moans and my almost painfully hard erection. Her ass was turning bright red and felt very warm under my hand. I figured she was really enjoying it since my thighs were getting very wet with her juices.

At last, I could wait no longer and almost threw her on her back on the bed and was on her in a second. Given her wetness, I was inside in a few moments and we were both pumping hips like dogs in heat. It was the strongest, wildest, roughest sex I’d ever had. I tried to stretch it out, but after about five minutes, she went over the top, biting my shoulder, scratching my back and almost lifting me off the bed as she thrust her hips up. I pounded back as hard as I could, driving her back into the mattress. Somewhere there we both came and slowly settled to milder thrusting and eventually to a satiated stillness.

Afterwards, we lay in each other’s arms for a long time; I said nothing, just stroked her back and kissed her lightly. It was the calm after the storm. It had been the wildest storm I’d ever been through, honest!

Much later, I was dressed and going to the door and Willow had on a soft pink terrycloth robe. I had my arm around her waist and pulled her near for one last long kiss. I was feeling things that I never had; things I didn’t understand.

As I left, I turned. I had to say something, even if stupid, like thanking her. But, the sweet lady put her finger on my lips.

“Don’t say anything, Jewels. That was great!” Her beautiful face was framed by her red hair in the almost closed doorway,
“But next time you’re going to need to really punish me if you want to have a good fuck!” And she closed the door.

Driving home, I struggled to keep my mind on road,

I loved Willow!

And I couldn’t wait for a second chance at that ass!

 

[windar]

“Is this allowed, Julian?”

In 1963, sure. Today, fuhgeddabuddit!

I have only had one threesome in my life and I was dragged into that.

Yeah, dragged into it, sure, whatever

 

[Praefectus Praetorio]

Yeah, dragged into it, sure, whatever

Julian is very shy!