NoFoolAnUndercoverMission

by Ann Raina

  Alyssa walked up the four steps to the porch. “Come, you won’t tell me now you’re shy.”

  Michael took in the slim wooden bench, fitting table and chairs standing on the porch. A bucket with garden tools rested beneath. Empty flowerpots and a sack with garden soil were placed against the wall, waiting to be used. Michael picked up a book from the bench. “Gardening?” He smiled at her. “Doesn’t look like you need expert’s information.”

  “Thanks. That’s kind.” She took the paper bag in one hand and pulled the keys out of her jeans to open the door. “So you like it?”

  “Yes, I’m impressed.”

  “Come in.” Alyssa beamed at him the moment she closed the door behind him. She put down the bag immediately. “Wait!” she told him before she rushed through the small hall somewhere deeper into the house.

  “Why?”

  “Just a moment!”

  Michael looked around. A mirror hung on the left side, its golden frame decorated with dried flowers. The small dresser was painted white with golden knobs to match the mirror. A vase with red gladiolus sat on it, completing the still-life. Somehow he had expected a fancier interior, something wilder—more colorful or just untidy—that would match her character. From his point of view, he could see little of the rest of the house. The living room was next with cream-colored couch and white coffee table on a fitting, wall-to-wall carpet. He also glimpsed into the guest bathroom, which was neat as well. Little ducks sat around the sink, grinning an invitation from under black sunglasses.

  Alyssa came running back. “Thanks for waiting,” she said, out of breath.

  “What’s this for?”

  “Part of the game this afternoon.” She still beamed with delight when she fastened a blindfold over his eyes.

  “Don’t you think it’s a tad strange to invite a man to your house and not let him see it?”

  She led him straight into the living room. “I just made up a rule. You won’t see anything of the house until you’re undressed.” She was already working on the buttons of his shirt.

  He held her hands. “Wait a minute, Alyssa, you invited me for—”

  “Sex, yes.” She snuggled up to him, close enough to let him feel her body heat. “I want you, Matt, you know that.”

  “Obviously. I guess, I should be flattered.”

  “Of course, you should!” She escaped his hold and quickly, as if she had done it many times before, helped him out of shirt and pants.

  The minutes seemed unreal. He was standing in the middle of a strange girl’s living room, about to be naked. “I can hope we’re alone, right?”

  She giggled, her hands on his bare chest. “Yes, my hero, we’re all alone in this wonderful big house. Just you and me and lust to rule.” She slipped her hands into his boxers, cupping his buttocks. “Hmm, you’re one handsome guy.”

  He smiled and embraced her at the shoulders. “You can tell that by my butt?”

  “I could tell the first moment you entered the room.”

  “You were nose-deep into your bag.”

  “I know a good man when I see one.”

  He bent back, frowning. “You knew what you did, didn’t you? Stealing me away from the real Mrs. Smith?”

  She kissed his lips, lovingly, sensuously, melting his frown away. “Yes, I knew, you hadn’t come for me and I just couldn’t let it slip.” She kissed him again, more demanding now. She let him know her feelings without holding back. “No dice, you wouldn’t have known me for a year if I hadn’t cheated.”

  Michael didn’t answer. Her hands kneaded his buttocks and for what a blindfold was worth, he concentrated on the single feeling of being wanted. Badly.

  “Get out of the clothes, Al, now.” He wondered why his voice sounded like he had sex before. Compared to him, her voice was dreamy and amused.

  “Getting macho on me? Why don’t you do it?”

  “Just wanted to know.” Michael fumbled to open her jeans jacket, then dropped it on the floor. Shirt and pants were next. He felt slick, soft underwear and realized it was pure silk. “Hmm, that’s nice.”

  “Fancy that, my boyfriend said so, too.”

  “You still date him?”

  “Maybe he sits behind you on the couch.”

  He unclasped the bra and let it trail down her back that she made a little, contented sound. “So the answer is no. You wouldn’t spoil an afternoon. Besides, it doesn’t smell like man around here.”

  She sniffed his shoulder and chest. “Aside from you.”

  “Yeah, aside from me.” He ran his hands down her slender frame, enjoying her warmth and subtle perfume. It was the same she had used before and his anticipation rose. He took off the blindfold. “You want me here? In the living room, milady?”

  Alyssa pouted, but the second was quickly over. With every word, she trailed her fingernails lower along his body. His muscles twitched. “Here, in the bedroom, in the kitchen, on the cabinet. I won’t be fussy as long as you get me nailed real good.”

  Michael digested the last sentence and realized he still breathed. The word ravenous crossed his mind, but was lost in the assault of hormones. He lifted her effortlessly. “You know what you want, don’t you, Al?”

  “Quick learner.” She put her legs around his hips, laid her hands on his cheeks and kissed him as if to drink him down.

  Michael took a step back to balance her weight and carried her to the loveseat.

  She giggled in his arms. “Go down on me, Matt, and don’t hold back for my sake.”

  Her legs were wide, awaiting him. Michael looked into her face, tried to find a lie in those lovely brown eyes, but couldn’t. She didn’t cheat. She said what she meant and when he still hesitated, she took him in her hand, guiding him along her flat stomach and through the nicely trimmed pubic hair to her vulva. He felt her shiver as his glans touched the soft flesh. He followed her lead and pushed him into her with eagerness. Alyssa parted her lips and lay back her head, breathing ragged. He pushed down, his scrotum touching the space behind her vulva and she moaned.

  “God, that’s so great. Gimme more.”

  She stretched her lower body toward him and when he came down she shoved herself up, getting the most of him, making the contact a clash he thought would hurt her. She clenched her legs around his hips again to draw him closer, tighter if that was possible. Michael felt tension build quickly, as if his lust outran his moves. Alyssa caressed his face. The strange look of hunger was back, changing her innocent features. A fine film of sweat was on her forehead and above her lips. Her little, pink tongue appeared teasingly, licked her upper lip and was gone. She smiled and rocked up again.

  Michael needed one hand to steady himself, but the position got uncomfortable with her additional weight. “I need to change this.” He grabbed her under the shoulder blades, got up and sat her on the backrest of the loveseat. “You okay with this?”

  She nodded, too far gone for words.

  The angle was perfect to hold her and thrust at the same time. Alyssa held tight around his neck, kissing his nose, his ears, his cheeks, tasting his sweat along the line of his neck. Michael panted, lost in the desire she had awakened in him. He got to the moment of highest tension, then pumped into her even more vigorously and never asked if she wanted it that way. She only held him at the shoulders and closed her eyes. He took it to be joy on her face and the sparkle was back when she shot him a mischievous glance.

  There was a moment of silence when they both calmed down, lingering on the afterglow. He only heard soft music from the kitchen and the tweeting of birds somewhere outside. His breathing slowed as did his heartbeat.

  “You also know what you want, don’t you, Matt?”

  He licked his lips. There was no clever repartee, not so soon after the fastest ride he had ever had. Her naked butt on the loveseat, her lower body still connected with him, she seemed totally at ease, happy. He pushed a strand of her long hair behind her ear. He cleared his throat to find his voice. “Yeah, I guess
, I do.”

  Alyssa’s smile widened. Her hands were in his hair again, her lips out to touch his. She wasn’t out of breath and still smelled of perfume. “You’re one of the studs. The best, I’d say.” Suddenly, she put back her head and laughed. “I can’t believe I got one of the studs she’s so painstakingly clucking.”

  Michael frowned. “What’re you talking about?”

  Alyssa freed herself and hopped off the backrest. Knowing he would watch her, she swung her hips as she walked into the kitchen.

  He followed. A feeling of unease built in the back of his skull. Not even her naked backside with the mass of black hair could dissolve it.

  “I’m talking about your lady and her strange rules.” She turned long enough to ask, “Orange juice or apple juice?”

  “Orange juice, please.”

  “Good choice.” She poured juice, then handed him a glass.

  “Thanks. I still don’t know—”

  She raised her glass to stop him. “When George hired a secretary, I mean, Mr. Summerston, he was out for an old lady with gray hair and a bun.” She smirked. “Doesn’t quite fit me, hmm?”

  “No.” He drank and looked at the loose strands of hair covering her bust. He wanted to touch her still hard nipples. It was an effort to just stand and hold a glass.

  Alyssa didn’t notice. A thick frown line appeared on her brow. “I had damn good references and I know something about computing, which isn’t a bad deed these days. I matched all he wanted of a secretary, so I got the job, finally. I bet, he’d talked an ear off her to make her comply.”

  “But?”

  “Good point. He told me that all employees are off limits. No fraternization, understand?”

  Michael grimaced. He didn’t like the thought to be a trophy she had hoped to win for long. “So this today was a test if you could do better and cheat?”

  She came to him, leaving the glass on the counter. Her look was dead serious. “Do I look like I’d do this just to cheat an old, frustrated lady?”

  He held his ground, meeting her gaze. “Guess, I don’t know you enough to judge your intentions.”

  Alyssa sighed deeply and heartfelt. “Boys.” She squinted as she looked up to him. “No, Matt, I’m not out to cheat her, I just don’t understand why she’d want the boys to be off limits. Hell, they’re all grownup men in the first place, and only in the second employees of her wellness farm.” She made a gesture. “And brothel, or whatever you want to call this venture.”

  “It’s an escort service.”

  “Right.” She cocked her head, pleading with her eyes. “Believe me, Matt, I wanted you. Yes, I cheated a bit and didn’t say the truth that moment, but I had accidentally got there and when you came in, all male and freshly-fresh dressed, I just couldn’t resist.”

  Michael flinched. This time the compliment to his manliness seemed all wrong and not the least flattering. “If I had got fired…”

  “I’d made it up to you, Matt, honestly. Did you get punished?”

  “No, just reprimanded.”

  “Ouch.”

  Michael shook his head and smiled, forcing all bad thoughts out of his mind. Sex with Alyssa was great, so why bother? Yeah, right, and you still believe in the Easter Bunny, too? “Well, taking this afternoon, I think, you made up.”

  “Great!” She went back the few steps to take a sip of juice, still eyeing him. “We make this a permanent rule. You come here—for I can’t meet you at your place, right—and then you’ll be blindfolded until I say you can take it off.” She pointed a finger at him. “You cheated today.”

  “You didn’t say I had to wear it the whole time.” He glanced at his watch. “Oh, fuck! I’ve got to go!” He put down the glass. “Sorry, but I told you I’ve got little time for… Anyway, I have to leave.” He crossed the distance to quickly kiss her lips and both her breasts.

  “Now it’s you running.” She laughed when he picked up his clothes to dress hastily. “I’d still like to know why you were in Frederick.”

  “I told you.”

  “I listened.” She came around the center counter with her glass in hand. “And I say, you were there to meet someone. Who eats out alone, hmm?” she added when he shook his head.

  “Someone who usually has to make conversation over dinner and be a charmer. So, don’t take this personally, but I wanted an hour for myself.”

  “Okay.” She ran a hand over his head while he stepped into his pants.

  Michael looked at her perfect breasts, her slim waistline, the wonderful long legs and small feet and felt it hard to leave. He would’ve loved to spend the rest of the evening with her. He slipped into his shoes and checked his fly.

  “Will I see you around?”

  Alyssa walked him to the door and brought order to his jacket. “I’ll be around, Matt, don’t worry.”

  “Who’s worried?”

  * * * *

  She watched him run to his car with long strides. She had seen him run before, sometimes alone, sometimes with other boys from the service. Right this moment, she wanted to run after him. To hug and kiss him again and tell him how much his short stay had meant to her. She stood behind the closed door, hugged herself and wished he would return, even if it was just because he had forgot something. He was the right man, a good man, a reliable man over all. She felt it down to her core. How can I convince him to think the same?

  Chapter 10

  What the hell is that? The vibration grew stronger by the minute. Michael shifted in his seat. His face twitched, he couldn’t help it. His breathing got shallow as the stimulation from the inside intensified. Then, abruptly, it was gone. Michael swallowed and sat more comfortably. He felt sleepy. The afternoon had exhausted him more than he could admit to Eric or Ms. Monroe, who had come to check on him before he went down into the reception room. Maybe she had wanted to make sure he wouldn’t take the false lady to the opera.

  Meeting Mrs. B. had triggered memories of severe policemen in Michael. It wasn’t in her looks. She was a fine, sophisticated woman some years over forty, a jet-set millionaire from Boston, slim and well dressed, but there was something very determined and unreadable about her. She had mustered him from top to bottom through gold-rimmed glasses, then ordered him to stand against the wall with his palms flat out as if to frisk him. Michael had obeyed, grateful for Ms. Monroe’s hint. Mrs. B. had pulled down his pants and inserted a small metal object, shaped like an oversized bullet, with an attached cord into his anus.

  Now he knew what it was.

  Was I out of my mind to accept a butt plug on remote control before going to the opera? He had been, obviously. It had not been the smartest of his decisions. The distinguished couple from the balcony next to them turned their heads in unison, long enough to shoot him a very disdainful glance. Michael felt like shouting at them to mind their own business. The same moment the vibration was back in his ass. He suppressed the tone of surprise, but not the movement. Now the neighboring couple took him to be some lunatic with no sense for music or the drama taking place on stage. Michael wanted to share their attention for what was going on, but the aria became background noise to his rising arousal. Who had decided that dress pants had to be cut tight? Probably the manufacturer had decided that a hard-on wasn’t acceptable while in public. What a joke!

  Michael dared turning his head toward his lady for the night. Her lips were curved into such a smug grin he wanted to get up and shake it from her face. She held the remote in her lap, tastefully covered by her small, black purse. She pretended not to see his glare, but was all eyes and ears for the play. If this is her version of foreplay, it is the weirdest thing I have ever experienced.

  The vibration stopped. Michael turned back. On stage, the soprano reached the climax of her solo before her lover entered the stage, turning it to a marvelous duet. It was the best performance Michael had ever watched. He tried to relax and think of the many hours of training such a singer had to undergo before she was able to perfectly ho
ld a tune and sing flawlessly, but his thoughts were in a loop about Alyssa and her marvelous body. Second on the list of things to do was to catch a long night of undisturbed sleep. He glanced at his watch. The second act was about to end in fifteen minutes. A break followed. Maybe he could treat himself to a bourbon and calm down a bit.

  The butt plug was switched on again. Michael grabbed the armrests to steady himself or would have jumped out of the seat. That vicious spinster! He tried to breathe normally, to simply outride the sensation radiating from his ass throughout his lower body, but it was impossible. Within two minutes, he was aroused so badly, he cringed on the seat. He had never known about the power of remote devices. Learning by doing. Another crude joke.

  A whisper was close to his ear. “Let’s go.”

  He turned in the seat and there she stood, hands clasped around the purse, a smile on her face and a look so innocent and yet so depraved. “Turn it off,” he whispered back as he slowly rose. “You made your point.”

  “Oh, I’m in for much more than that.”

  She waited for him to open the door for her and walked through without as much as a glance back where the audience still enjoyed the show.

  He followed, closed the door as quietly as possible and fell in at her side. “May I ask why we leave?”

  “To take care of that unusual bulk in your pants.”

  Michael had the sudden impression that the few ushers they met stared at his crotch. Maybe it was the guilty expression on his face, but they all looked concerned, even angry. Maybe it was just because they did not understand how anyone could leave during such an outstanding performance.

  “Here.” She made a right turn into a lounge reserved for VIP guests. Small wonder, the man standing close to the door had already recognized her, opened up and smiled when the couple passed him by. The door closed quietly. Mrs. B. turned. “I made reservations some days ago.” A wave of her hand. Everything she wished became instantly real. Lots-of-money rule. She dropped the cape and the purse.