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CougarGirl
Star
- Joined
- Nov 5, 2013
Everyone calls it Unit 69. It doesn’t have a name; the Force doesn’t have one. But it was inevitable that that is what it would be called. The idea for the unit came from the Force’s Commander, the first female to take charge. She realised that keeping her agents isolated, even from their families, was important for security, but led to other problems. So she set up the unit, especially for agents about to go on a mission and for ones who had just returned, as a means of releasing their tensions. Before their mission, it helped them to focus free from distractions. After their mission, it helped them to bring them back to reality. It had other purposes to, although the agents didn’t know that. One was to assess their psychological state. But there were others.
***
Rachel’s smile stopped half way across her face as the door opened. She checked the number on the door and then the number on her card.
‘I was expecting Michael. Isn’t he here?’
The man smiled and held the door open in welcome.
‘No, he can’t be here. I’m Aharon. Come in, please.’
It would have been churlish to refuse such an offer from a guy in shorts and tight t-shirt, with long hairy legs, dark complexion, curly black hair and 2 days’ stubble. She allowed her smile to spread across the rest of her face and walked into the bedroom.
‘What’s happened to Michael? I was told he was available. Isn’t he well?’
Aharon wasn’t sure how much he should say, but he needed to get her mind off Michael.
‘Michael is resting. There was that unexpected exchange of prisoners last week. He’s been busy.’
Rachel laughed. Her friend had been one of those released after being captured and held for nearly a year. Michael was her favourite too. If he had been allocated to her, he’d need a good rest.
Aharon walked across to the table, drawing her away from the door and into the room. He waved his hand over the display of drinks.
‘What would you like? Something alcoholic or something soft? Wine or spirits?’
Rachel followed him, tossed her appointment card onto the bed and sank into the chair. With a sigh, she kicked off her shoes and stretched out her legs.
‘Wine, white, cold, large glass.’
As Aharon poured the drink, he began to appraise her. Some were business-like, just wanting a fuck, maybe even taking charge, which gave him an easy ride, so to speak. Others like to be wooed, which took time, time that he didn’t always have to spare, like tonight, just before the mission. And others had special demands. Like the Commander. She liked to be overpowered and raped. Aharon had been selected for his aptitude with all types and his natural talents had been honed by training. He’d learnt that all of them, without exception, the Commander included, wanted to talk. Needed to talk. And talk they did, eventually.
He handed Rachel her drink. She was lying back in the chair, a slim girl with short cropped dark hair. A quick glance was enough to tell him that under the thin cotton dress were small breasts, wide hips and strong thighs. No bra and probably only a small string. Not his favourite body shape, but he could cope.
Rachel took the glass and poured a large gulp into her mouth, swilled it round and tilted her head back to drain it down her throat.
Aharon poured himself an orange juice and sat on the edge of the bed.
‘You look like you needed that.’
‘Tell me about it’ Rachel replied, as she took another mouthful.
‘Bad day?’ Aharon offered her a chance to explain.
‘Training and more training. The usual shit.’
Aharon sipped his juice. She was lying. These agents took the training in their stride. There was something else troubling her. No point trying to rush her, though. It would come out in its own good time. It always did. Even that Commander had confided in him, although it had taken a long time.
‘You can talk if you want to. I’ve been security cleared, just like Michael.’
She nodded, but said nothing. He put down his drink and moved behind her, feeling her shoulders through the thin cotton of her dress. Her muscles were knotted, so he began to ease them with his strong fingers. Slowly her shoulders began to sink and her head lolled to one side, resting on his hand. She purred softly.
Aharon took the glass from her hand and lifted her onto the bed, lying her face down. He eased down the zip and rolled the dress off her shoulders, leaving her back exposed. His hands now worked down her spine, soothing the tension away a vertebra at a time.
As he reached her buttocks, she stretched like a cat and rolled onto her back. He pulled the dress off her arms and over her hips. He had been wrong about the string. She was naked and her crotch was already glistening. She reached out her arms to him.
‘Let’s see those muscles of yours.’
It was an invitation and a command. As his head emerged from the t-shirt, she pushed his face into her crotch, rubbing her thighs against his stubble. He switched into automatic mode, using his lips, tongue and teeth in succession as he moved around her crotch, gauging her response from her hands as she ran her fingers through his hair.
As his teeth sank into her clit, she howled and pulled his head up.
‘Now. Quickly. Come on, now.’
Aharon was out of his shorts and riding her as her screams mounted. She thrashed and squirmed, squealed and moaned, bucking against his thrusts, grinding her pelvis into him. She came suddenly, with a banshee howl, the Force’s unofficial battle cry, shuddered and collapsed under Aharon’s weight. He stopped, preserving himself in case he had to perform again.
‘It’s the children.’ He could barely hear her whisper, although her mouth was by his ear.
Aharon was confused. ‘Children? Whose children? Where?’
‘The collaterals. We’ve been warned there’s a school nearby.’
Aharon wrapped her in his arms and she wrapped her legs around his hips, holding him inside her. Gently be began to stroke her, trying to sooth away her thoughts of what might happen. As she responded to his touch, they rocked together until she came again, this time with a low soft purr.
***
The Commander and her deputy watched the recording for the third time.
‘She’s good’ said the deputy.
‘He’s good too’ said the Commander.
‘Do you think she was faking? … the orgasm I mean. Do you think that was real?’ asked the deputy.
‘She wouldn’t need to fake’ replied the Commander. ‘I’ve used his services, remember.’
The deputy did remember. He had advised against her going on that mission. It was too big a risk, and it had nearly led to a disaster when she had been trapped. It was only by a miracle that she had escaped.
‘Do you think we were right to be so vague? No one could identify a target from such sparse information.’
‘That’s the point’ explained the Commander. ‘She wouldn’t be told the real target until the very last minute, possibly only when she was in the air. But when he reports back, the last thing they will expect is an attack on their nuclear facility in the desert.’
The deputy nodded as the Commander pressed REPLAY.
***
Rachel’s smile stopped half way across her face as the door opened. She checked the number on the door and then the number on her card.
‘I was expecting Michael. Isn’t he here?’
The man smiled and held the door open in welcome.
‘No, he can’t be here. I’m Aharon. Come in, please.’
It would have been churlish to refuse such an offer from a guy in shorts and tight t-shirt, with long hairy legs, dark complexion, curly black hair and 2 days’ stubble. She allowed her smile to spread across the rest of her face and walked into the bedroom.
‘What’s happened to Michael? I was told he was available. Isn’t he well?’
Aharon wasn’t sure how much he should say, but he needed to get her mind off Michael.
‘Michael is resting. There was that unexpected exchange of prisoners last week. He’s been busy.’
Rachel laughed. Her friend had been one of those released after being captured and held for nearly a year. Michael was her favourite too. If he had been allocated to her, he’d need a good rest.
Aharon walked across to the table, drawing her away from the door and into the room. He waved his hand over the display of drinks.
‘What would you like? Something alcoholic or something soft? Wine or spirits?’
Rachel followed him, tossed her appointment card onto the bed and sank into the chair. With a sigh, she kicked off her shoes and stretched out her legs.
‘Wine, white, cold, large glass.’
As Aharon poured the drink, he began to appraise her. Some were business-like, just wanting a fuck, maybe even taking charge, which gave him an easy ride, so to speak. Others like to be wooed, which took time, time that he didn’t always have to spare, like tonight, just before the mission. And others had special demands. Like the Commander. She liked to be overpowered and raped. Aharon had been selected for his aptitude with all types and his natural talents had been honed by training. He’d learnt that all of them, without exception, the Commander included, wanted to talk. Needed to talk. And talk they did, eventually.
He handed Rachel her drink. She was lying back in the chair, a slim girl with short cropped dark hair. A quick glance was enough to tell him that under the thin cotton dress were small breasts, wide hips and strong thighs. No bra and probably only a small string. Not his favourite body shape, but he could cope.
Rachel took the glass and poured a large gulp into her mouth, swilled it round and tilted her head back to drain it down her throat.
Aharon poured himself an orange juice and sat on the edge of the bed.
‘You look like you needed that.’
‘Tell me about it’ Rachel replied, as she took another mouthful.
‘Bad day?’ Aharon offered her a chance to explain.
‘Training and more training. The usual shit.’
Aharon sipped his juice. She was lying. These agents took the training in their stride. There was something else troubling her. No point trying to rush her, though. It would come out in its own good time. It always did. Even that Commander had confided in him, although it had taken a long time.
‘You can talk if you want to. I’ve been security cleared, just like Michael.’
She nodded, but said nothing. He put down his drink and moved behind her, feeling her shoulders through the thin cotton of her dress. Her muscles were knotted, so he began to ease them with his strong fingers. Slowly her shoulders began to sink and her head lolled to one side, resting on his hand. She purred softly.
Aharon took the glass from her hand and lifted her onto the bed, lying her face down. He eased down the zip and rolled the dress off her shoulders, leaving her back exposed. His hands now worked down her spine, soothing the tension away a vertebra at a time.
As he reached her buttocks, she stretched like a cat and rolled onto her back. He pulled the dress off her arms and over her hips. He had been wrong about the string. She was naked and her crotch was already glistening. She reached out her arms to him.
‘Let’s see those muscles of yours.’
It was an invitation and a command. As his head emerged from the t-shirt, she pushed his face into her crotch, rubbing her thighs against his stubble. He switched into automatic mode, using his lips, tongue and teeth in succession as he moved around her crotch, gauging her response from her hands as she ran her fingers through his hair.
As his teeth sank into her clit, she howled and pulled his head up.
‘Now. Quickly. Come on, now.’
Aharon was out of his shorts and riding her as her screams mounted. She thrashed and squirmed, squealed and moaned, bucking against his thrusts, grinding her pelvis into him. She came suddenly, with a banshee howl, the Force’s unofficial battle cry, shuddered and collapsed under Aharon’s weight. He stopped, preserving himself in case he had to perform again.
‘It’s the children.’ He could barely hear her whisper, although her mouth was by his ear.
Aharon was confused. ‘Children? Whose children? Where?’
‘The collaterals. We’ve been warned there’s a school nearby.’
Aharon wrapped her in his arms and she wrapped her legs around his hips, holding him inside her. Gently be began to stroke her, trying to sooth away her thoughts of what might happen. As she responded to his touch, they rocked together until she came again, this time with a low soft purr.
***
The Commander and her deputy watched the recording for the third time.
‘She’s good’ said the deputy.
‘He’s good too’ said the Commander.
‘Do you think she was faking? … the orgasm I mean. Do you think that was real?’ asked the deputy.
‘She wouldn’t need to fake’ replied the Commander. ‘I’ve used his services, remember.’
The deputy did remember. He had advised against her going on that mission. It was too big a risk, and it had nearly led to a disaster when she had been trapped. It was only by a miracle that she had escaped.
‘Do you think we were right to be so vague? No one could identify a target from such sparse information.’
‘That’s the point’ explained the Commander. ‘She wouldn’t be told the real target until the very last minute, possibly only when she was in the air. But when he reports back, the last thing they will expect is an attack on their nuclear facility in the desert.’
The deputy nodded as the Commander pressed REPLAY.