Typical James Bond spy v Hot Woman in a Ferrari case.
Ever met one of those guys? You know, the ones that get everything handed to them? The ones who inhereit billions and never work a day in their lives? That's me. My father founded Wolves' Pact, a network of trustworthy individuals in every part of the world working every job imaginable. It started with seven people, and expanded to several hundred. It would be much bigger, but we don't use anyone we don't trust.
Wolves' Pact's purpose is twofold. First, we can aquire anything in the world. By anything, I mean anything. We find and sell everything except people. The one thing we don't deal in is slavery. That isn't to say we don't sell dates. We get bids for diamonds, cars, rare plants, exotic pets, and almost everything else. If there's one in the world, we can sell it to you. While this is very obviously illegal, we get by. The police trade a turned back for our unlimited supply of information. The FBI trades our exsistance for knowledge. And now I come to our second purpose.
All of these loyal people, we are also a network of highly skilled spies. The 'soldier' who found Saddam? That was my good friend Sandman, our Iraqi agent. Spies, and also assassin's. Elvis? Us. Nixon? Greasemonkey's work. You've never heard of Wolves' Pact, and you probably never will. We prefer anonymity.
But enough. It was a slight lie when I said I never worked a day in my life, but I really love my job. I make more in a week that some make in a year. I am six foot four, two hundred and fifteen pounds. I have blue eyes, and dark brown hair. I like to keep it short, out of my eyes. When I'm not in a suit or jumpsuit, it's free and slightly gelled into spikes. As to facial hair, I keep what you might call a 'soul patch' tightly trimmed. It's trangular, and reaches to the middle part of my chin. I have no piercings, though when I was in highschool, I did have two eyebrow rings. On my left shoulderblade, I have the stylized kanji for 'Wolf', a trademark of my organization. I'm slightly tanned, with a dusky complexion.
I try not to live super rich, but I do have several houses around the world, each with a different sportscar. Off work, I usually stay in London. I keep a Ferrari 599 GTB Foriano there. I also have a home in Italy, with a Lamborghini Mercielago. Germany I have an Aston Martin, Japan, a Nissan Concept model, and in the United States I have my crown jewel, a personally configured Buggati Veyron. The Veyron cost me more than the two story mansion it resides in.
I know what you're thinking: "Try not to live super rich, huh?", but I rarely drive these cars. I have a Mustang in the US, and in Europe, I usually walk.
I was playing in my Mustang somewhere in Colorado, when a Ferrari pulled up next to me. The guy revved his engine, and I tried to look through his tinted windows. Slightly amused, I winked at where I assumed his head to be from my convertible. He revved the engine again, so I took it as a challenge and revved back. Next to a Ferrari, even a stock, my engine didn't sound as impressive as I was used to, but it wasn't completely pathetic. The light I was waiting for flashed green, and I took an early lead. After only a few seconds, however, the fed car started to overtake me. Now kind of annoyed, I switched to the newly installed sixth gear, and started pulling ahead. The guy in the Ferrari must be amazed now, I thought, as I continued to widen the gap between cars. Like I'd actually race someone with a stock engine. I heard a hissing sound, and a rumble, and almost lost the wheel as the aforementioned car blew past me. Understanding immediately, I armed my own NOS. A red light flashed 'System Armed'. I flicked a switched, and pulled the trigger. G-force forced me into my seat, and I fought to control the car. I easily caught the Ferrari, and almost rear-ended it when it activated it's hazards. I pulled up next to him, both of us going over one hundred, and daringly took my eyes off the road to wink at him again. I watched as his window rolled down. A slender face emerged, startling green eyes flashed, and an arm threw something into my car. I caught it from the air, now steering one handedly, staring into the girls' eyes. She winked, and drifted to the right, into an unoccupied lane, and onto a new road, leading her down a ninty degree angle away from me. When I returned my eyes to the road, I finally noticed the blue and red flashing lights in my review mirror. The Impala had gotten lucky, catching up as we both breaked, or else it never would have caught us. I pulled over, and waited as the cop walked up to my car. He was wearing one of those cowboy/cop hats, walked like he was important, and had the country almost-drawl.
"You know how fast you were going, boy?" He asked me, the words passing his ample mustache.
"Well that's a damned shame." He pulled out his ticketbook. "I'm going to have to write you a ticket."
"Sir, please, look at it this way." I reached into the glove compartment, and pulled out a small box. As I retrieve it, it scraped my handgun's handle. I opened the box, and counted out two grand.
"Son," The cop said, taking the wad of cash, "I never saw it like that before. Remember, click it or ticket."
"Right. Thank you sir." I think my voice impresses people. It's hard, but not loud. The british accent adds to the authoritative sound. "Have yourself a good day, then."
He shook his head and walked back to his Impala. I stayed where I was as he drove away, then drove slowly home.
I've been in tune with this 'girl' thing since I was eleven. My first girlfriend was fourteen, my first time was as awkward as everyone elses, but by the time she broke up with me, I could control her orgasm to perfectly compliment my own.
Ever since then, it's taken me one time to have the same kind of control. Either way, I decided a long time ago that whoever said 'wait three days' was stupid. I called her immediately.
"Hey, Mustang." The voice was as soft as velvet, and arousing even over the phone. "Looking for a different kind of thrashing?"
"The way I see it," I said, switching my cell to the other ear, and walking to the sliding glass door seperating my house from the pool, "it was me who smoked you."
She laughed softly, then spoke. "Sorry cowboy, you're not that good with your mouth."
"Oh really? Care to wager that, say, against my Mustang?"
"Mmm, tongue and a car..." She purred, "I'm listening."
"Turn east on Azaela, and drive. I'm at the end of the road. Twenty nine, eighty four."
"I'll be there."
I hung up, and turned away from the enticing pool. Instead, I walked through the kitchen and into my bathroom. I stepped into the shower, and washed. Twenty minutes later, a light flashed, and a feminine voice asked me if I wanted to terminate the intruder. I told it no, I didn't.
"Activate guest pass to Master bedroom."
Light nodes on the floor lit up near me, and I walked out of view into the kitchen. Footsteps up the stairs told me that she took the hint. I opened my freezer and retrieved some exotic rum. I took two good size glasses, and filled them partially. Each had perhaps four shots worth of alcohol. I brought both upstairs, and walked down the hall.
"Deactivate guess pass."
The light faded, and I eased the door open. Sitting on my bed wearing nothing but a black thong and a smile was the Ferrari girl.
"Mustang." She inclined her head, and stood. Her breasts were maybe a B cup, with small, erect nipples. They were light pink contasting beautifully with her skin. I traveled up and down her body, past her trimmed mound, where only a small strip of hair decorated, past her well tonned legs, to her small feet. I looked back into her startling eyes. She had brown hair also, abeit a little lighter than my own. She was maybe five foot nine inches. "I hope you can play hard."
I walked towards her, and extended the drink to her. "A woman driving a Ferrari is too good to be taken by wine."
"Oh, such a romantic." She had a talent for sarcasm. "What, no drugs?"
"Confident, I see." She drained the glass in one drink, and dropped it onto my carpet. I blinked. "And loaded."
I too another step towards her, and drained my glass as well. "How do you figure that?"
"Rum. Tunisian carpet. You didn't say anything."
"Maybe it's not my place. Maybe I'm just a man who broke in."
"Well if you are," She said, "Then you're fingers are as skilled as you claim your tongue to be."
She stepped into me, her body flush against mine. The feeling made my groin twitch, and I felt the heat as my blood redirected itself. She leaned forward and kissed me, slipping her tongue slightly into my mouth, and as she slid back a little, she bit my bottem lip slightly. I ran my hands down her back, my fingers being as soft as feathers, barely touching her. They extended past her ass, and I halted at the crease where her legs began. I lifted her with one arm on the small of her back, and let my other hand slip between her legs from behind her. I ran into the annoying thong, and set her down. I used both arms to bodily pick her upa nd throw her onto my double kingsized bed. I followed immediately, shedding my bath towel. A nine inch monster jumped from it's binding. As her eyes alighted on my engorged cock, they widened and she sat up immediately.
"On second thought, I think I feel the need to prove my mouth's skill as well." She scooted forward and grabbed the base of it. She kissed the head, and then said, "Although, it'll probably be more like proving my throat's skill..."
"Yeah." I reached down and moved her long hair out of her face.
She looked into my eyes, and without breaking contact, sank deep onto my cock, the velvet, wet, hot sides of her mouth sliding down my long cock made me moan, and I closed my eyes and turned my face towards the cealing. The girl from the Ferrari came back up, and stood. I looked into her eyes again. "Fuck my mouth."
"If I must."
She laughed and layed down on her bed. She let her head dangle off the edge, and her mouth opened. I slowly walked towards her, and silently thanked the fact that my bed was so far off the ground. It was the perfect height. I excruciatingly slowly pushed forward, the hot wetness closing around my cock. I pulled most of the way out, and started fucking her mouth like she had asked. Every few seconds, I would pull all the way out and let her breath, before pushing deep into her throat. I felt the pressure building, and I increased my speed. My balls slapped against the bridge of her nose, and I exploded. As I did, I had all nine inches inside her mouth. She started gagging as my cum hit the back of her throat. I came even harder, if possible, and the sensation made my pleasure last a little longer. When I was finished, I pulled out as she gasped for air. There was anger in her eyes, and also lust. She swung herself around, and stood. Grabbing me by the shoulders, the girl lifted me and I hit the bed hard. I vaugely registered the aikido throw, but didn't comment on it. Who would, with a tall, beautiful woman about to ravish you?
She stood over me, and lowered herself so my face was directly below her moist pussy. She sat on my face, and I faintly her her say, "Eat me."
I stuck my tongue into her without delay. She gasped, apparently not expecting this, and then moaned. The moan itself was enough to make me hard again, and she leaned forward, and took my dick into her mouth, and started bobbing her head. I licked down her pussy lips, and met her clit. She shuddered as I flicked my tongue over it, and sank a little deeper onto my penis. Feeling a little mean, I waited for her downward stroke on my shaft, and rammed upwards hard, invading her throat and making her gag. She bit me soft enough so it didn't hurt, but hard enough to warn me not to try that again. In revenge, I turned my head and nipped her thigh. Ferrari moaned on my shaft, and the vibrations made me almost cum a second time. Not to be outdune, I latched onto her clit with my lips, and sucked slightly. I ran my tongue over it, directly stimulating it. She nearly screamed, and deepthroated me repeatedly, desperately trying to make me cum first. Shudders took her over and she moaned a very high pitched moan as she had my entire dick in her mouth and throat. As the girl came, I shot load after load directly into her hot throat. It escaped her mouth and ran onto my stomach and bedspread.
As we both lay there, panting, she said to me, "Well?"
"More than satisfactory."
"Good." She moved to straddle me, and looked me directly in the eyes with that disconcerting gaze of hers. "Are we going to fuck or what?"
"Of course." I reached into my nightstand, and withdrew a condom. "I'm rich, not stupid."
"And I'm both clean and on the pill." She looked at me, and I could tell she wasn't lying. "All I'm missing is a belly full of cum."
"You already have most of it full from your mouth," I reminded her, which earned me a laugh.
Her face grew serious. "I hope you fuck as good as you suck, loverboy."
She had a way with me. My cock was straining against her weight, and she lifted herself up. She guided my massive length to her dripping pussy, and impaled herself on it directly. Ferrari bounced on me, making my bed springs groan, and earning the doubleplay of me bouncing into her as she moved up. She worked me over good, and started grinding her pussy in circles. The girl had a unique way of grabbing my dick while it was inside of her. She started moaning with each inward thrust, and so she turned one hundred and eighty degrees, facing away from me, and put her legs together. She started bouncing on me doggy style, and the girl openly screamed with every inward thrust. More horney than ever, I grabbed her stomach and stood. I moved her so she could rest over the bed, and fucked her easily three times as fast as beforehand. Our flesh slammed together, and displaying an amazing control and flexibility, she lifted her leg, and told me to put one over my shoulder. I did so, and was able to sink even deeper into her. The head of my dick hit the back of her pussy with each stroke, and she started screaming in a combination of extreme pleasure and pain. Her womb slightly gave on my last, very hard thrust, and the feeling made me lose it, almost at the exact time she did. I poured what must have been equal to the last two bursts straight into her womb. Afterwards, as I started to lose rigidity, I continued to fuck her, and I slipped out with a small noise.
I fell next to her, and we fell asleep. When I awoke, my Mustang was gone. There was a note next to it:
'Too bad you don't have more cars for me to take...I enjoyed everything to do with taking it.
I grinned. Calling my Ford agent in New York, I orderd three more mustangs, same specifications. I sent the number a txt.
'Next time, bring some friends. There's more than enough to go around.'
As I stepped out of my shower, my phone had a reply on it.
'How's 4v3 sound? Two for you, two for your friends.'