Love in Troubled Times: MFM Alien Romance

by Gayle Riley

  “I can’t wait to fuck you,” she whispered in his ear. “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about your cock.”

  Kowaski parked the car a few blocks away from the hotel. Trump Tower. She had never been inside. And she had no desire to ever be. But tonight she would be going inside, both of them would, at least virtually. Cameras had been set up in the room that the Russian spy Sergei visited a few times a week. He was careful to keep moving around the city. But she was onto him. She had teams of guys who could get into any hotel, wire it, set up cameras, and audio in under 10 minutes.

  She pulled a mini laptop out of her bag and set it up on the dashboard.

  “This is some crazy shit,” Nolte said, shaking his head. “This guy is pretty wild, isn’t he?”

  “Let’s just focus on the investigation,” she replied.

  But she couldn't deny it. She could feel the desire, the hunger, the loneliness, bubbling inside of her.

  This guy had quite the reputation of being a playboy. She couldn't wait to see if it was true. Was he as well hung as people whispered he was? She couldn't wait to find out. Even though, she couldn’t help feeling that it would be kind of awkward watching any sort of erotic encounter with Nolte sitting next to her.

  He pulled a bottle of whiskey from inside his jacket pocket.

  She rolled her eyes. “Are you really going to drink that right now?” Nolte and his damn whiskey. He could never put it down, always needed a sip. She hadn't smelled it on his breath yet today, but she figured he had a nip somewhere along the way. He always did. She hated seeing a guy who used to be a good cop, waste away, pissing away all his talent and ambition.

  “What's the big deal?” he asked. “What's better than whiskey and porn alone in a car?” he grinned, tilting his head back, closing his eyes and taking it down his throat.

  She shook her head.

  “You know that stuff is going to kill you, right?”

  He ignored her, took another swig from the bottle, twisted the cap back on, and put it back in his jacket pocket.

  “I'm an Irishman. This is what is supposed to kill me.”

  “You’re a fucking idiot is what you are.”

  He burst out laughing. “I love it when you talk to me like that, Kowaski. Lets me know that deep down you really care about me.”

  “Care about you? Are you fucking kidding me?”

  He turned and stared at her. “Nope.”

  So many different emotions struggled inside of her. She bit her lip, shook her head, and looked away. Was this really the time to get into some deep conversation? Was it really the time to explain why she hated to see him drink like this?

  She looked toward him, blinked several times. Finally, for the first time in such a long time, she saw the sincerity in his eyes.

  She closed her eyes and sighed. Then she saw her father’s image. Stanamir. A Polish immigrant who had worked his way up to captain of the local police department. But his ambition was always to go much higher than that. He had interviewed several times for Bureau, each time getting a little bit closer to actually being hired. But it had never worked out. He died a bitter man, a drinking, broken man. She hated those memories.

  “You’re just wasting everything,” she said, not looking at him, her eyes facing forward. “From everything that I’ve heard you used to be a good cop. That's what they say around the office.

  He turned and glared at her. His bottom lip trembled.

  “Shut up, Kowaski. Just shut the fuck up. I didn’t ask your opinion did I?”

  She could never remember seeing him like that. There was rage in his eyes. There was anger in his voice, deep anger and bitterness.

  “I’ve seen it before,” she continued.

  “I said shut up.”

  “My father. He was a cop. A good one. Probably not as good as you. He never made it to the Bureau, even though he dreamed and talked about it every day for years. Ultimately, that disappointment or failure, whatever you want to call it, killed him. And it killed me to watch him kill himself.”

  “Jesus Christ, Kowalski, don't you know when to shut up?”

  “If we’re going to be partners, I can’t watch you just drink and drink. There’s a time for that. But it’s not during working hours.”

  “Shut up!”

  “No! You need to hear this. You're wasting away. I don't know what happened with your ex-wife but you've got to get over that. Suck it up. Be the tough guy that you like pretending you are.”

  Her chest was heaving, heart was racing. Adrenaline surged through her body. She didn't know what had come over her. She was never one to lecture. It didn't quite make sense to her. But she couldn't help it.

  She turned toward him, her eyes full of compassion, hoping that he would forgive her, and wouldn't hold that short preachy speech against her.

  He wouldn't look at her. He kept his eyes facing forward as he wiped a tear from his eye. He bit down on lip, quickly turned to her, then looked away. He closed his eyes, scrunched up his face as if he had some deep pain in his head as he were trying to work out some complicated problem.

  For the next few minutes, the only sound in the car was Kowalski typing on the computer, logging them into the feed in the hotel room.

  “Shit!” she said.

  “What is it?”

  “Not all the cameras are working. She pounded her fingers on the keys.”

  Suddenly her eyes lit up and she smiled. “Bingo!”

  Six different camera angles showed on the screen. Her Russian spy was sitting in the living room area of the suite, talking to a buxom brunette.

  She looked at the other cameras. There was a blonde in the bathroom.

  “A bathroom camera? Nolte said, leaning over and looking at the computer screen. “ “You might be even kinkier than I thought.”

  She rolled her eyes and suppressed her desire to say anything. It wasn’t easy but she managed.

  Nolte pointed at the screen. “Look at this.”

  She turned her eyes back to the action. The blonde was crushing something up with a credit card. Then she bent over and snorted it off to the bathroom counter.

  “It looks like they are going to have quite the party,” Nolte said. “How does this guy get any time for spying?”

  “I’m not sure. But I’ll be on his ass until I figure it out.”

  They turned towards each other and smiled.

  Chapter 4

  It didn't take long before the Russian spy and the two girls started to get intimate on the couch, both of them sitting on his lap, taking turns making out with him, their hands roving up and down his body.

  Nolte could feel his cock throbbing in his pants. This surveillance assignment was a lot more exciting than he had expected. He was doing his best to cover his boner. He didn't want to do anything more to piss off Kowalski. He had taken things far enough. It would be best to lay off for a bit. But he couldn’t help noticing that more than once her eyes had quickly glanced down to his crotch. Maybe he was just imagining things. He couldn’t be sure.

  No way, he said to himself. That would be too good to be true. Could this girl who is twelve years younger than me, actually be turned on by me? He looked away from the screen for a moment and pulled down the mirror, letting his vanity take hold of him. He smoothed his hair back into place. He was proud that he hadn’t really started balding yet. But the lines in his face and the bags under his eyes horrified him. This job was definitely wearing him down.

  Back on the screen: One of the girls got down on her knees, and put her head in between Sergei’s legs. Nolte, he closed his eyes and sighed. He couldn't contain himself anymore. He reached down and squeezed his cock. When he opened his eyes and turned to his left, Kowaski was staring straight at him. Her pupils were dilated, filled with lust. He could almost hear her calling out for him.

  He swallowed hard, not sure what to say. He loved to use a lot of sexual innuendoes to get her going. But now that they actually found themselves in this ti
ght, intimate space with their energies passing back and forth, the blood surging through his dick, he wasn’t sure what to do.

  They both shifted their eyes back to the screen. One of the girls was going up and down, bobbing her head in Sergei’s lap. There was no doubt what she was doing: sucking him dry. And the other girl had put her pussy directly in the lucky bastard’s face.

  Things were definitely getting hot! He felt like he was watching a really raunchy amateur porn video.

  “Can we get a tighter shot?” he asked, tongue practically hanging out of his mouth.

  Kowaski banged on the keys for a few moments. Presto! They zoomed in on the action.

  “I can see our Russian friend is really packing some heat,” Nolte said shaking his head. He didn’t feel a bit insecure. He had plenty of man meat himself. This was his moment, the one that he had been waiting for. And maybe she had been waiting for it as well. But how would he do it?

  If he'd made a serious advance and she rejected him, he would be done. Career over. They would send him straight to HR, then quickly usher him out of the building. He would be forever banished from the Bureau.

  But he wasn't going to be able to contain himself. He squeezed his cock again, then pull his hand away. Seconds later he felt something else grabbing hold of his member. His eyes opened wide. He looked down. Kowaski's pretty, pale hands were gripping his crotch. Then her nimble fingers were undoing his belt buckle. The whole time their eyes were locked on each other.

  Nolte felt but fear and desire—a broiling desired. He threw his head back and sighed deeply as her fingers, wrapped around his thick, blood engorged rod. She began stroking it up and down, up and down.

  “Oh my God! That feels so good!” he said. He took hold of her face, kissing her hungrily on the mouth, their tongues twisting and turning, slowly, just as slowly as her hand worked up and down his day. And then she pulled away from the kiss and lowered her head into his lap. What a feeling! Incredible! Her tongue ran up and down the shaft, swirled around they head, then dipped into the piss slit, which was already leaking cum.

  “That feels so fucking good! Don’t stop! Please don’t stop!”

  She began to gag but that didn’t stop her from trying to get his entire fat cock into her mouth. While her mouth took care of his member, she swirled a finger around his asshole, gently rubbing those sweet lips. As she pushed two fingers inside her ass, he held his breath, then he let it out in a deep moan. What a feeling! Fucking incredible!

  He felt the cum rising in him. She pushed her mouth down harder and harder on him and jammed the two fingers in and out of his asshole, pushing deeper and deeper with each thrust.

  “AHHHHHHHHHHHH!”

  He let out a loud, manly groan as the cum shot from his cock, straight into her mouth. She hungrily swallowed every drop. It was definitely the best head that he’d ever gotten.

  Nolte panted. A sheen of sweat covered his body. He certainly hadn’t been expecting that. He wondered whether she had. Maybe she had planned this all along. He looked down at his thick, floppy cock. There was saliva and cum on his lower stomach and upper thighs. She had really worked him over good. Really fucking good.

  A few minutes later, they both regained their composure. An awkward silence slipped between them. Nolte didn't know what to make of her calm demeanor.

  He turned toward her smiling, appreciatively. “Wow! That was incredible. I hope I get a chance to return the favor.”

  She smiled slyly and faced him, lust playing on her lips and in her eyes. She swirled her tongue around her mouth. “Yes, I think you will definitely have to return the favor.”

  She paused for a moment as she glanced down at the semi-hard cock that still hung out of his pants. “I’d love to feel that thing inside of me.”

  He smiled. “I’m sure you would.”

  After they finished tongue kissing, Nolte put his cock back into his pants. He felt like a new man. It was so strange what one great orgasm, one wonderful moment of intimacy could do for a man's confidence and mojo. He suddenly felt 10, maybe 15 years younger. He was ready to take on the world. Ready to bring down these bring down this Russian bastard.

  For the next couple hours, Sergei and the two women engaged in some very hot and kinky sex—ass licking, fisting, girl on girl.

  “Wow!” Nolte said, shaking his head.

  “What?”

  “He would be fun to play with.”

  Kowaski stared at him sharply.

  He wondered if he said something wrong. Had he crossed the line?

  “I mean imagine if Sergei and I were both fucking you at the same time. Do you think that you could handle all of that cock?”

  “Are you fucking serious?” she asked. “Are you trying to ruin the moment?”

  “Not at all. But what if we told him we had something on him and forced them to participate in a threesome with us?”

  Kowalski’s her mouth gaped open and her eyes widened with shock as if she'd never heard of something so wild or lazy or stupid in her entire life.

  “You must be kidding. There’s no way that you’re serious, right?”

  “Listen, this guy probably doesn't know anything. He's probably just here as a high-profile distraction. Moscow has got to know by now that we’ve had him under surveillance.

  “What about the briefcase that he was carrying?”

  Nolte shrugged his shoulders. “It might just be a prop like I just said. Probably nothing in it. They’ve just got us on a wild goose chase. This guy stands out anywhere he goes. Why would they give him anything important? And think about how much and how hard he parties. It would be crazy to trust him with any secrets. That's not how the Russians operate.”

  “So now you're an expert on Russians?”

  Nolte laughed and shook his head. “Hardly. But by the end of the week, I will make it happen.”

  “And if you don’t what happens?”

  “You mean like a bet?” he responded.

  She nodded up and down slowly.

  “What do you want?” he said cautiously, not sure what to make of the strange look in her eye.

  “I get to put my fist up your ass.”

  His eyes opened wide with surprise.

  Kowaski burst out laughing, a deep belly laugh, her entire body shaking. She had to cover her mouth. She turned to him, eyes wide, face red.

  He had never seen her like that. He had never seen her lose control and laugh from some place deep inside of her. He'd never seen that before. But he looked forward to seeing it again.

  Chapter 5

  When Kowaski got back to her apartment, she was still trembling with excitement and adrenaline. Never in her life, not even in her wildest, most absurd dreams, had she ever imagined something like that. In the patrol car? Watching the subject of her surveillance have a threesome? Then that drunk Irish bastard Nolte had pulled out his fat cock. It looked so juicy and delicious. It made her own juices start flowing.

  It had been months, maybe years, since her pussy had been that wet, since it had been that hungry for penetration. What had she been thinking? She had let him slam his dick into her mouth and deep down her throats. She had taken every last drop of his cum. It was slightly bitter. But she didn't mind that. The act itself provided so much physical and mental stimulation and satisfaction.

  After she slipped into her pajamas, she slipped into bed. On most nights, she would usually turn on the TV or at least the bedside terrestrial radio. But on that night, all she did was lie there, staring up at the ceiling, wondering where she and Nolte would go from there, wondering if it would be possible for them to work together. Would it be awkward from now on? There was a way to know. The more she thought about their erotic encounter, the hornier she became. Those same emotions that she'd experienced in the car began to bubble up inside of her. She reached into her panties, began rubbing her swollen labia, ever so gently, already wet, already dripping with desire. And then she rubbed her finger against her swelling clit head, movin
g it back and forth, eyes closed, mouth half open, breathing beginning to pick up. Her body slowly writhed on the bed. She shoved the fingers deeper and deeper, harder and faster, deeper and deeper, harder and faster. Her body moved up and down on the bed. She moaned.

  She imagined the two men Nolte pushing her head down on his cock while Sergei pounded her pussy from behind, smacking her ass till it turned red, pulling her hair, calling her a bitch, a slut, a whore. Then she imagined Nolte pulling his dick out of her mouth, taking hold of her jaw, and looking straight into her eyes. He smacked her on one cheek, smacked the other cheek. She smiled. Her face burned and stung from the pain. He delivered two more clacks, one to each cheek.

  Her pussy leaked as Sergei had both hands on her hips, pounding his cock deep into her, going deeper inside of her than any man had ever gone. What an incredible feeling! Fucking incredible!

  “AHHHHHHHHH!”

  She screamed and lost control of her body as an orgasmic spasm took hold of her, sending her body flipping and flopping and writhing on the bed. It took several minutes before she calmed down, before she stopped shaking before she could attempt to catch her breath.

  Her body was covered in sweat. She could feel the wetness underneath her, both from the perspiration and from the sweet, honey nectar, mango juice that had leaked out of her.

  Nolte and Sergei. Both of them together, pounding her, opening her up, making her feel the sweet pleasure of submission. It would be so incredible! Both of them, two big cocks, the spy and the agent, two passionate men who knew how to really make her feel like a woman.

  Nolte had said that he would make the threesome happen by the end of the week. Or else she could shove her fist up his ass—something that she'd never done. But the thought of it, penetrating a man that deeply, making him feel the pleasure of his G-spot, then bending down and milking his cocked, licking, sucking, slurping up every last drip drop of his cum, got her so fucking hot, wet, and bothered.

  She turned over on her side, closed her eyes, and within minutes she was asleep, drifting off.