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Dawn's mission - Dawn has a plan

Foxy Lady

Star
Joined
Jan 30, 2014
Location
United Kingdom
Will dropped the post on the kitchen table and went to pour himself a coffee at the counter. As he turned, he froze at the expression on his wife's face. She was staring at an envelope. Just an ordinary envelope, white with a typed address. She pushed it across.

'Look at the address, look at how it's spelt.'

Will's hand shook as he saw the error, the misspelt street name. Except it wasn't an error. It was a sign, a prearranged sign that she would be contacted with instructions.

'I'd hoped they'd forgotten us.' Her voice trembled.

'No, Dawn, they haven't and they won't, they never do.'

'You look, Will.'

Her husband opened the letter and read the innocuous message inside. Then he read it again, deciphering the simple code. Date, time and place.

They sat quietly together wondering what her instruction would be this time. Contacts had been infrequent since they had arrived here, since they had been sent here. Usually the couple could not understand what the point was, why they were being asked to do the things they were told.

Will's instructions were impossible to understand, but lately – over the past few years – they had noticed a pattern in Dawn's instructions. She had been told to apply for a job, which she got. That was five years ago. Then two years ago she was told to apply for promotion, which she got. The couple discussed it at length, although they knew it was pointless to try to fathom the machinations of their controllers back home. It looked as if she was being placed in this organisation for a purpose. But what purpose. It must be a long term plan because years were passing. Last year, she had been transferred to a new boss. She had no idea whether this was just chance or it had been arranged by someone else placed in the organisation.

She collected the message. It was in the pocket of a coat she had left for dry cleaning. Her husband opened it, quickly read the code and handed it to his wife.

'I can't do this,' she threw the letter across the room.

'You have to, Dawn, you have no choice.' He was right. she had to do it.
 
The woman sat patiently as Ron read the file she had pushed across the desk to him. She was dressed in a light grey business suit and had pepper and salt hair, which looked natural, so middle-aged, so senior, so important.

Ron sat back and pushed the file slightly away from him, an acknowledgement that he would not be allowed to take it with him when he left the room.

'Well?'

The woman was not asking whether he would take the assignment. That was not how it worked.

'Just a couple of questions, if I may.'

She nodded.

'Well, first, why me? I mean, I'm just a paper shuffler, not the sort of person you need for this.'

Ron was more than a paper shuffler, much more, so the woman ignored that.

'We want you because you are what the assignment requires. You will not have to pretend to be something you are not. That is always risky and we do not take risks, not unnecessary ones.'

'And this last part …'

'The part about sexual relations are permissible? We have to put that in nowadays, so that you have proper authority to enter into a sexual relationship if that is required in order to fulfil your task.'

'You obviously haven't read what my wife said in her divorce petition.'

'As a matter of fact, Ron, yes I have read it. She said you had no understanding of the sexual needs of a modern woman, and lacked the stamina and technique to provide them if you had. Women say hurtful things in petitions sometimes.'

'It was only hurtful because it was true,' Ron replied.

'It may help you to know,' the woman leaned forward, 'that there are lots of woman, most of us probably, who do not want sex to be like circuit training at the gym and their bodies to be used as an assault course. Regular sexual contact builds week on week, month on month, year on year to create the kind of long-term bond between a couple that goes beyond the kind of satisfaction your wife was talking about. Like I said,' she sat back, 'we have selected you for what you are and are not asking you to be something or someone you are not.'

'I understand,' Ron said, although he didn't.

'Now, the application for transfer to the post has already been submitted on your behalf and you have an interview on Monday at 11 am. It will, of course, be a formality given your qualifications and experience.'
 
Dawn should have been better trained than she had been, and she wished she had remembered more than she did of her training. She did her best, though, and in discussion with her husband they reasoned that something was about to happen. Why else would she have received her instructions? And whatever that something was, it was bound to be important. It had to be. And her boss, Ron, would be aware of it and that it was important and that might affect his behaviour. And if she paid careful attention, she might notice that change and that might give her a chance to get closer to Ron, somehow. Because - and she and her husband were both very sure about this - she couldn't just change her behaviour and come on to Ron all of a sudden. That would alert him immediately. No, she had to take advantage of something that happened or that he did, and react in a way that was natural for her, or would seem so to Ron.

Simple, then, all she had to do was wait.

But for how long? And what would she do if nothing did happen?

Fortunately for her, Ron had also been warned that something might happen, which made him nervous, and led to a couple of uncharacteristic errors that the meticulous Dawn noticed.

She waited a couple of days before commenting. They had just finished their regularly morning meeting when, instead of rising from her chair and leaving, she had stayed where she was. She had rehearsed what she would say and was confident she could carry it off without making herself too obvious.

'Was there something else? Have I missed something?' Ron was surprised that she was still there, and unknowingly had given Dawn a chance to pick up on his remark instead of following her plan.

'No, Ron' – everyone in Ron's office was on first name terms, that was his style – 'not today.'

'What does that mean?' He was genuinely puzzled.

'It's just that you seem a bit distracted recently. And you did make a couple of slips earlier this week. That's not like you.'

'No, they weren't, Dawn, and thank you for spotting them. I owe you one for that.'

Still Dawn stayed in her seat.

'It's just,' she failed totally to hide her embarrassment, 'if there's something on your mind, well, I'm a good listener. That's all I wanted to say.'

She rose and left.

Ron hadn't been warned of who might approach him and Dawn's remarks were just what he would have expected from her, so he only mentioned them as an after thought at his daily debrief.
 
Dawn knew what would happen. It had to happen and if necessary she would have to make sure that it did. She and Will were no love match. They had been paired up by their controllers because it would make it easier for them to get into the country and blend in. They had – she had to smile at how naïve they had been – they really did have long and intense discussions about whether to have sex or not. In the end, it was the practical argument that won out. Neither of them could manage without sex – not long term – and they couldn't risk having sex without anyone else in case they gave something away. So they had to do it with each other, as and when required, which had been fairly often to begin with, and then gradually reduced, just like a real couple in fact. But for some reason Dawn felt she had to discuss the possibility of having sex with Ron. Will was philosophical; it has to be done, because you've been ordered to, if necessary. 'Who knows, you may enjoy it,' he added without any rancour, 'you never have with me.' Which, as it happens, was almost true.

Ron's handler was more astute than he was. 'She's the one. We'll set you up with a chance to be alone. That's obviously how she's playing this.'

So the following Monday, Ron mentioned that he had to go to a conference. 'It's something confidential, but I can take a trusted colleague. I thought about you.'

'Ron, really, what a compliment. I never knew you saw me like that.'

She hoped she hadn't gushed too much.

'I can drive us there. It's quite a distance, so maybe we could break the journey at a hotel somewhere.'

Dawn pretended to think about it.

'Ron, yes, that would be fine. I don't like flying much anyway.' Pretending not to get the drift of what Ron was suggesting, although Ron wasn't too sure himself.

So it was, on Wednesday, that they set off in Ron's car. He was wearing slacks and a t-shirt; she was wearing a cotton dress. Their business clothes were lying on the back seat so that would be free from creases when they arrived next day.

They chatted inconsequentially to begin with, about the weather, politics, the scenery, before lapsing into silence. Neither was ready to make the opening move in what each knew had to happen. In the end, Ron gave Dawn the lead into it.

'I really do appreciate you spotting those mistakes I made the other day, Dawn. I'd have been in trouble if you hadn't.'

Dawn smiled at him. 'No worries, Ron. That's part of my job.'

Ron did not respond and Dawn frantically tried to think of a way to keep this on track, to wherever it was leading.

'Was I right that you were distracted by something? Has that anything to do with where we're going? I don't want to pry. I know you can't tell me what it's about.'

'It would be easier if I could,' Ron admitted, quite truthfully, 'it's good to have someone who is a good listener.'

Unsure what to say next, Dawn simply rested her hand on his arm, for maybe a second or two longer than was required.

'I booked us a nice place to stay tonight,' Ron filled the silence. 'I hope you like it. I booked us separate rooms. I thought you'd like to know that.'

Dawn reached out and ran her fingers up the back of Ron's head, through the thick hair.

'I'm glad you invited me,' she spoke softly as she withdrew her hand.

'I'm glad you accepted,' Ron turned and smiled. He reached out and took her left hand, the one with the wedding ring, and rolled it between his fingers, but he didn't say anything.

'I don't make a habit of this,' Dawn answered the unasked question, 'in fact, this is the first time.'

Ron released her hand and rested it on her thigh. She shifted, allowing her to lie back in her seat, and causing his hand to move higher. Later, she parted his legs slightly, and the hand slid between her thighs. Dawn did not touch Ron.

'I'm divorced,' he said at last and she closed her thighs on his hand, trapping it gently.
 
'So, what's your room like?'

The pair had reached their hotel, freshened up, changed and were now coming to the end of their meal in the restaurant.

'It's nice and clean, but rather small,' Dawn told Ron, 'just a single.'

'Shall I speak to reception? I'm sure I booked two doubles.'

'No, it's only for one night after all.'

Ron was right, he had booked two double rooms, adjoining. The room next to his had been taken over by his handlers for the equipment that would record everything that was said and done in Ron's room.

'Would you like another drink, in my room perhaps?'

Not the most original line, but it was the best he could come up with.

'Yes,' Dawn rose, 'I'd like that.' She was relieved at not having to manipulate Ron to prolong their evening.

'There doesn't seem a great choice.' He was checking out the drinks cabinet in his room.

'It doesn't matter,' Dawn admitted. She needed to keep a straight head. 'I didn't really want one anyway.'

'Really?'

'Really.' She came towards him and he put his hands on her waist.

'I liked you right from the start,' he told her. This wasn't true, but he didn't want to sound like an opportunist. 'But I was afraid to say anything, you always seemed so stern. I kept hoping you would stay and just chat after our morning meetings, but you never did.'

'Until last week,' Dawn intervened.

'Yes, until last week.'

Her hands were on his chest, just resting on his shirt. He could feel their warmth seeping through. He licked his lips and slipped his hands around her back, pulling her gently closer. She reached up and nuzzled his neck, her fingers moving towards the buttons on his shirt. She heard rather than felt her zip moving down. As his arms relaxed, she moved back and he began to slid the dress over her shoulders.

'This is alright, isn't it, I mean-'

Dawn's kiss stopped his stumbling question.

'Yes, Ron, it's alright, it's very alright.'

Her fingers made short work of unbuttoning his shirt and she was soon tugging it out of the waistband of his slacks and pushing it over his shoulders. As he shrugged it away, she stepped out of her dress, leaving her in her undies. She normally wore black, but she was wearing a relatively new pair, light blue with some lace. Nothing tarty; she didn't want to create that impression and she wouldn't have felt comfortable in anything like that.

She began work on his belt and was swiftly pushing his slacks down his thighs as she squatted in front of him. He was left standing in a pair of grey boxers with a bulge and a damp patch. She looked up at him from under her eyelids.

'Sorry,' he muttered, 'I've been looking forward to this all evening.'

'Looking forward to what?' she teased. Ron caught her tone and grinned back, sheepishly.

Then, all of a sudden, Dawn was being propelled backwards, towards the bed, hands mauling her, pulling at her bra and panties. Her knees caught the edge of the bed and she fell backwards, as Ron pushed his shorts down and reached jumped onto the bed beside her, reaching under a pillow. She pulled out a condom packet and fumbled to tear it open. Dawn put her hand on his to calm him down, took the packet, ripped it open. The condom fell out and both reached for it. Dawn beat Ron and, trying to slow him down, rolled it gently down his cock.

As soon as it was in place, Ron knocked back and mounted, pushing frantically at her crotch until she guided him inside. And off he went, humping and groaning, his weight pinning Dawn down. All she could do was plead with him to slow down, but he took no notice, probably didn't hear her.

'Yes, uh-uh, aaahhhh.'

It had been a matter of minutes, only two or three, before Ron was spent and collapsed on top of Dawn. She put her arms round him, stroking his back. As his weight became too much, she tried to ease him off, but he was now fast asleep. Slowly, he managed to prise herself out from under him, retrieved her underwear, and put on her dress. As she turned towards the bed, Ron snorted and rolled onto his back. Her last sight of him was the condom still hanging from his cock.

She thought she heard a knock on her door during the night, but she ignored it.
 
The pair barely spoke at breakfast and the first part of their journey passed in silence.

It was Ron who spoke first.

'Dawn, look, I feel, no I need to, well,' he stumbled towards an unaccustomed apology, 'it's like this, my behaviour last night, what I did, well I'm sorry. I can only say, no,' he stopped himself, 'no, I'm not going to make any excuses. There can be done. It was wrong.'

How should Dawn react? She couldn't alienate him – that would destroy the mission. So she just say quietly, thinking.

In truth, Ron's reaction had little to do with contrition or insight. He had been rudely awaken in the early hours by the handler who had been monitoring the feed from his room. He endured a tongue lashing from her about appropriate behaviour, in the course of which he learned for the first time that his room had not just been wired for sound. 'I don't think I will ever forget,' his handler's words were cold, 'the sight of you lying on your back, snoring and farting, with a condom dangling from your cock.' Damn, he had been filmed. 'You need to put things right with her, or at least try to.' His only consolation was her closing remark: 'At least we'll know if she's the plant in the organisation. That will be the only reason any self-respecting woman would stay with you after last night.'

'Thank you, Ron. I understand how it must have been for you, after being divorced for so long.'

As soon as words were out of her mouth, she realised how naïve it sounded. Sex was possible outside marriage. He had never said he had been celibate. Fortunately, Ron came to her rescue.

'It's not that, well not just that, Dawn. It's because I have been attracted to since we first met. It all – I don't know how to explain it – it was – no, I won't excuse it, I should have kept control of myself.'

'Do you think that I wasn't feeling the same as you?' Dawn hoped this was a better way to deal with this. 'I knew you were excited. That was obvious from, well it was obvious, very obvious. And that is a compliment, which I appreciate, really I do.' She rested her hand on his thigh. 'I just wish you had slowed down a bit – for me.' Her hand began to stroke.

Ron sighed with relief. He had put the mission back on track. And now he knew what he was dealing with. From now on, he had to be on alert with Dawn and follow his instructions to the letter.
 
Dawn's hand worked on Ron's thigh for the best part of an hour. He was constantly aroused and felt sure he would cum in his pants more than once, but Dawn always slowed down just in time. She was so skilful, she had to be a pro. Ron was sure of it.

Late morning. 'Is that a motel coming up? Dawn asked. 'Do you think they'd have a room?'

Clever. Ron had to admire her timing, but then she had probably worked this all out in advance. Knew where the hotel would be and could be sure the room wouldn't be bugged. Ron was relieved. He had to agree to her suggestion. His handlers couldn't complain about that. But he was glad to be free of the criticisms of his performance he had endured last night.

'Now remember,' Dawn turned to him as they reached their room, 'stay calm, OK?'

Ron did stay calm. The problem this time was that he stayed too calm. He could only get semi hard.

'S-s-orry,' he stammered.

'Let me give you a hand,' Dawn had experience with her husband when he went through a phase of premature ejaculation. With her hand working his cock, Ron was soon starting to moan, but Dawn knew just where and how to apply pressure to take him back from the brink. Then, and only then, did she mount him, setting the speed and maintaining a rhythm that would keep him hard but not too excited. Only when she felt her own orgasm building, did she slide off him onto her back, allowing him to take control.

They came more or less together and Dawn held him close with her arms and thighs until he slid out of her. She said nothing. Just held him.

'They took their time,' the woman remarked. She was sitting in the blue SUV parked at the opposite end of the car park from Ron.

'Making up for last night,' one of the two men with her smirked.

'She's definitely a pro, not doubt about it after she chose an expected stop to get him free of any surveillance,' the third contributed.

Ron drove the rest of the way fast, eager to make up as much lost time as possible. He knew a long interrogation awaited him, when he would have to account word for word what was said in the motel room. No wonder he couldn't get hard.
 
As Ron had anticipated, a message was waiting for him on arrival at the conference hotel. He was summoned to a meeting in room 1762, subject unspecified, but he had no doubt he would be required to report on what had happened during the car journey and in the motel. Ron's car was wired for sound, but not for images, so an explanation of what had happened during the long silences was required. And the team monitoring him had no idea of what had happened in the motel. He gave as detailed an account of both as he could manage. He was good on the detail of the sexual encounter, but less so on the post coital conversation.

The team's assessment was unanimous: Dawn was a pro. There could be no other explanation for her persistence. And she must have had a reason for the motel stop. It certainly had not been a desperate desire for sex with Ron. She had obviously wanted to be sure the room was not bugged, which meant that she was trying to get some information out of Ron. But they could not fathom out what it was, which meant that Ron had not been paying sufficient attention. For which he was duly reprimanded. He was not, he was told sternly, there for a sex-fest – Ron had no idea what one of those was – so he should have paid attention to the pillow talk and other casual chit-chat, so that they could work out what Dawn was interested in and, although they did not admit this to Ron, to study her technique.

They were even more convinced of Dawn's subtlety later that evening. Ron had been given Dawn the draft plan for maintaining strict security over "special project material," as it was being called, when it was in his office. Ostensibly, this was to obtain her opinion. In reality, there was a flaw in the arrangement, which had been deliberately contrived to draw Dawn in and catch her red-handed. But when the couple had retired to Ron's room after supper, she stunned Ron and the surveillance team by pointing it out to him. The team, convinced of her professionalism, were sure that she knew she was being minotored in the hotel rooms, so she was telling the surveillance team as well. They were sure that they were engaged in a delicate game of bluff and double bluff and possible triple bluff or worse. Or, as the leader of the team put it, she's given us the middle finger.

Dawn, who had spotted the flaw immediately, had seen it as another instance of Ron's preoccupation and distraction, brought on by the stress of the project. It had never occurred to her that something so obvious had been set to trap her. She saw no alternative but to draw Ron's attention to it.

Dawn was mostly enjoying the sex. Or rather being in control of the sex, something which her husband was not keen on. She treated Ron and the watchers to a rather awkward, but definitely cute, strip tease after dinner – another chance for the team to marvel at how skilled she was at playing a normal woman having an affair with her boss. She moved on to licking Ron's balls and nibbling his shaft until he had to beg her to stop. After which, he threw her onto the bed and gave her one of the best fucks she had ever had in her life. It even drew a round of applause from the room next door. Like all surveillance teams, they formed a relationship with their agent, and were proud when he did well.

While the pair were fucking, another team was carrying out a detailed search of Dawn's possessions.
 
The searchers in Dawn's room found nothing incrimination. That was no surprise because there was nothing to find. They did come across her dirty panties, which caused them to wriggle those noses and hold them at arms' length, mainly for the benefit of the cameras, and a pack of Viagra, for which Ron had no need judging by the shagging he was giving Dawn in his room as they were searching hers.

It was all the more impressive for that fact that his mind was racing. As he pumped Dawn vigorously, he frantically tried to devise a new plan. Dawn had scuppered the original one by announcing that she had spotted the flaw – the flaw that had been designed to trap her. So far he had been following a plan thought out by his handlers. He could not keep going back to them for advice. It was up to him to make any tactical changes as necessary.

Inspiration came as he dumped his load deep inside Dawn's pussy. And, by pure chance, she helped him put it into action.

As he slumped on top of her, she took her chance to put her own plan into action.

'Ron,' she whispered as she trapped him with her thighs and gently stroked his hair, 'you remember I told you I was a good listener. I meant that. It wasn't just an excuse for, well for what we've just done. If it helps to unburden yourself, I am totally discreet.'

'You're right,' Ron shifted position slightly, 'I'm not used to this top secret stuff. I understand security and confidentiality, but this is in another league. And you saw that mistake I made right away. I was wondering, just a thought, and I couldn't tell you what the project is about, obviously, but could you devise a scheme for me, one that isn't flawed like mine was.'

Dawn could have pumped the air with joy at how well her tactic had worked. And at that very moment, that is what the handlers in the room next door were doing. They were even more impressed when they realised, from the movements in the bed, that Ron was hard again.
 
'Sit down and tells us everything and I mean everything.'

The head of Ron's surveillance team was in a funk. The whole team were. They had been since Ron and wandered along to Dawn's room almost as soon as he had woken. Dawn had been awake for half an hour. She had slept in an old t-shirt and, to the disappointment of the male members of the team, had put on the hotel robe over it.

Dawn hadn't been expecting the visit. Ron had not rung to texted. For all he knew, she might still be asleep. She saw Ron through the spy hole in the door and let him in. She ran her hand through his dishevelled hair and rubbed her face against the stubble on his chin. This peeked the watchers' interest, as they anticipated another show. But Dawn's words threw them into a panic.

'I was just about to take a shower. You look like you need one too.'

And she let him into the bathroom. There was no way the team could pick up what they were saying in the cubicle with the water streaming over this bodies.

Ron, of course, knew that and that he would have to give an account of what she said that was word perfect for future analysis.

It was Dawn who took the initiative, lathering Ron in a way that left his cock throbbing. 'You were a real stud last night,' she informed him in a tone that reminded him of how she spoke in his office. Ron grinned. He had been rather proud of his performance. He'd have no trouble remembering that when he made his report. But then she began rambling as her hands worked the soap over his body, every part of his body. He could barely follow the train of what she was saying, which was no surprise because Dawn had been taken by surprise and was working out her plan as she spoke, trying to distract Ron from her incoherent mumbling.

He did remember the last bit, though.

'Ron, it's easy to get into a rut in a relationship and I don't want that to happen with us. I want us to be free to be spontaneous with each other when we feel like it.' She put her arms round his neck and pulled him closer. 'I'm your ten dollars a fuck, ride them bare back, trailer trash whore who's up for whatever you want whenever you're ready. In a corner down an alley, in the elevator of the hotel, in your car, by the side of the road with the traffic thundering past, in your office. Any time, any where, any how.'

It was a pity that Ron had not paid more attention because the plan, as just revealed, was Dawn's tactic. So simple and obvious that anyone on alert would have spotted it. She was laying out the chance to distract Ron at any opportune moment to get her hands on any information that was in his possession at the time.

But Ron was no longer paying attention. His cock was on fire and all that interested him was getting inside Dawn's cunt. Which he did in short order.

By the time he was seated in front of his handlers, he had his plan all ready. He repeated what Dawn had said about his performance and then told the team that she had soaped him up and given him a blowjob. 'That was it,' he concluded, 'she was just horny, that's all.'

None of the team believed him. But they all knew he had devised a simple story that was easy to stick to and he would not be diverted from it. And they realised that Ron could be as big a problem for them as Dawn.
 
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