The young black man stops massaging your back for a moment and chuckles.
"What is this? Is it from another jealous lover?" he says while brushing his fingers over the scar on the small of your back.
Less then 24 hours ago you didn't know this young man. Well you really don't now either, just that his name is Orlando and that he’s one of the locals, that he picked you up in a bar last night and that he's got a well fit body and a big tool inside his swimming trunks. And that's enough for now.
His touching of your scar gives you a sudden flashback.
Rico's gang, how your cover was blown and what they did to you before the backup managed to get there. You shudder instinctively but manage to push those thoughts aside. Enough of that, you're on tropical vacation and you're feeling horny!
"Yeah, and I think twice before turning my back on one again!" you laugh and roll over on your back facing Orlando who's leaning over you.
You're both stretched out on a big beach towel in the sand. The warm sun and a slight ocean breeze caressing your body. There are some other people dotted out here and there in the sand. Most look lean and beautiful, evidence of a rich lifestyle that can afford this expensive Caribbean resort.
“Mmmaah” you gasp as your large breasts are freed and squeezed by your lover, who’s hard on is pressing against your thigh.
His hand wanders down your body and searches inside your bikini panties.
“I'm gonna do ya right here on the beach miss!” he hisses in your ear.
You know it’s wrong but by now you’re way too horny to care and the thought of making love in front of these people is turning you on even more.
His touch is so tender and soft, so unlike the last pair of man hands that you let touch your body. They belonged to Boris, the Brutopian ambassador that you seduced as an undercover agent . He was a brutish old thug who persisted in smoking cigars while he fucked you. But you just can't help missing him a bit. His government doesn't take failures lightly and poor old Boris must be on his way to the Brutopian salt mines by now. And to be honest you always had a thing for stocky bald men with mustaches.
Your thoughts are interrupted once more by Orlando’s squeezeing and caressing. You reach down and free his big throbbing cock from his trunks. You can already feel the pleasant salty taste of it in your mouth.
Suddenly you hear a loud beeping sound. Damn! It’s your emergency work phone. You search through your bag for a while before you fish it up and answer. You recognize the chief’s stern voice.
“Agent Hooters! Report back to headquarters immediately, I have a mission for you!”
“Aw fuck!” you cry out. |