Samantha Steel is...The Spy Who Did Me--The First Coming A Samantha Steel Erotic Thriller

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Samantha Steel is...The Spy Who Did Me--The First Coming A Samantha Steel Erotic Thriller Page 1

by E. K. Santo




  Samantha Steel is…

  The Spy Who Did Me

  The First Coming

  A Samantha Steel Erotic Thriller

  By

  Vanessa DeSimone

  Copyright

  Samantha Steel is…The Spy Who Did Me

  The First Coming

  A Samantha Steel Erotic Thriller

  By

  Vanessa DeSimone

  Copyright 2013 by Vanessa DeSimone of EKSess Publishing

  Smashwords Edition

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of this author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Dedication

  This book is dedicated to you, the reader.

  Without you, this bit of fun would not exist.

  Thanks!

  Note From The Author

  When I was young(er), I found a paperback book underneath my brother's bed...I couldn't have been older than thirteen. It wasn't so much an erotic novel as much as it was plain old pornography. I ran to the bathroom, so nobody would find me, and I read all 150 pages non-stop. I became so completely engrossed in the rawness of the sex being depicted in the book; I read the book another half dozen times. I began imagining myself in all the sexual roles I had read about, and craved more...and luckily my brother had a lot more of these types of books.

  From that moment on, I became immersed in thoughts of sex...my raging hormones didn't help. I read all the books I could find (thanks to my brother and Dad), as well as Playboy, Penthouse, Hustler, and so on. While many thought it dirty and unwholesome, I just saw it as fun.

  I mean c'mon...Isn't sex fun?

  As I grew older, I was extremely uninhibited by the whole idea of sex, and have had more than my fair share of sexual experiences. I won't go into detail, but I had a real good time...and still do!

  So, I've been reading erotica, and the general pleasures of sex (as well as partaking) for so many years, this particular path seemed right for me.

  I hope you enjoy what I have in store for you...I really love a naughty story!

  Thanks for reading!

  Vanessa

  Please contact me!

  I would love to hear from you!

  [email protected]

  Facebook:

  https://www.facebook.com/vanessa.desimone.925

  Twitter:

  VanessaDeSimone@DeSimoneVanessa

  One

  I felt the maroon covered satin sheets caress my nipples as I turned over on to my left side, awakening from a light slumber. I also felt the heat from the body lying next to me, hard and muscular. I smirked. There's nothing as restful as a cat nap after hot sex. But I had to pee.

  I crossed the hotel suite in the darkness, not wanting to awaken my friend. The coolness in the room from the air conditioning sent goose bumps up my flesh, as I tip-toed to the bathroom. My nipples were rock hard in the coldness. I touched them as I walked, enjoying the feeling of my fingers on the sensitive flesh.

  I closed the door behind me, and switched on the light, my jade green eyes adjusting to the instant brightness. I squatted over the bowl, peed, wiped, and flushed. I couldn't help but notice my pussy was still engorged from the pounding she just took an hour or so ago. And yes...I call my pussy a she.

  I looked into the full body mirror over the double sinks, my hair, which is so dark and full, has the appearance of looking jet black. It was a total mess. I looked at my breasts, my mid-section, my hips...no scars. Good. Just a few bruises here and there across the light bronze skin of my torso. I still looked smoking hot...even after all the shit I'd been through over the past few days.

  Few days? Who was I kidding? My whole life's been a knife fight...a gun fight...fuck this guy…fucks that girl. The crazy life of an agent. Do whatever is necessary for the greater good. I have one of the craziest lives in the whole fucking world.

  And I wouldn't give it up for anything.

  ***

  I headed back to the hotel bed, hoping to get some sleep. My mind usually wanders when I've just finished a mission, analyzing everything that happened...what I could have done differently, better. Always preparing for the next mission. My mind never stops...its how I was programmed. Yes, programmed. I wasn't born in to this world under normal circumstances...far, far from it. I was developed, for a very specific purpose.

  I slid myself back under the sheets and blanket, acknowledging the warmth of the bed. I was tired, and hoped I would nod off. My mind started to drift, maybe falling in to a half-dream, when I felt my bed mate shift his body closer to mine.

  I was lying with my back to him, his body heat closing in. Then I felt the prod at the cheek of my ass. Somebody was awake.

  I was exhausted, and in dire need of sleep. I was also insatiable. I was programmed for that, too.

  His arm reached across my torso from behind, cupping my breast...gently kneading my nipple. It hardened at his touch, which pretty much gave him the green light. I rolled on to my back, and he nuzzled his face into the side of neck, softly kissing my skin. Nibbling my ear. I felt my slit dampen. I lightly growled...he lightly growled back.

  I wrapped my hand around his erection, hard and full, and gently stroked. A light moan escaped his lips. His hand found my other breast, his mouth now on the nipple that started all this trouble. God how I loved having my nipples sucked.

  He took his hand from my breast, and slowly slid it down between my thighs, as I continued to stroke his manhood. He wasted no time, sliding a finger up and down my lips, then inserting his thick middle finger inside me. I shuddered.

  He took it out, and brought his finger to his mouth, swallowing it...tasting me. He quickly went back to my pussy, massaging my lips, sliding his finger in and out of me, slowly. I moved my hips against his hand, the warmth inside me now turning to heat. My tongue found his, twisting around it like a serpent. He slid two fingers inside me, and I moaned into his mouth. With his two fingers inside, my vaginal muscles clamped down. Using his thumb, he started to flick my clit quickly, our tongues still entwined. As he moved his fingers, I felt the wetness explode inside of me, an intense orgasm releasing itself. I bucked my pelvis against his hand, breathing quickly, moaning. I gave his penis a hard squeeze, and he moaned in return.

  He released his hand from me, again taking some fingers into his mouth. I joined him, tasting myself from his hand. I continued my slow stroke of his cock, feeling the tip becoming a bit wet from his own fluid. He was ready.

  I tucked my right leg underneath me, bringing my knee up, and underneath my breast, opening up my pussy for him. He slid into my wetness easily, another shudder of pleasure running through me as he entered inside of me.

  He began a slow, steady rhythm...pistoning his cock back and forth, then in and out. He pulled himself out, wanting me to give him a squeeze, which I obliged. I did him the favor of caressing his balls, as well. His cock's bulbous head engorged, returned inside of me, the thrusting longer and more pronounced. I felt my inner heat beginning to build again, as his hips moved in sync with mine.

  He lifted his body straight up, and positioned my legs on his shoulders. His thrusting was short and quick from this position. As he moved, I rubbed my hands across his abs, feeling them flexing with each thrust. He grabbed my ankles, placing them together, and holding them up with one hand, still pumping me rhythmically,
my pussy lips sucking on his cock.

  I reached down with one hand, and found my clit, rubbing her clockwise. An intense moan escaped my lips as my orgasm ran through me, the pumping wetness seeping out of me, all around his cock.

  His thrusting began to increase, as well as his breathing and moaning. I was with him. I opened my legs, and started to thrust back at him with ferocity. I felt the head of his cock grow inside me, as he erupted, a deep guttural moan escaping him now. He threw his head back, exhaling a deep gust of breath.

  I was still rubbing myself, entertaining tiny orgasms when he was finished. We kissed long, and hard, enjoying each other’s touch. He fell onto his back, still breathing deeply. “Now that's how I like to wake up in the middle of the night, beautiful.” he said, with a bit of a southern accent. I just moaned at him.

  He got up to use the bathroom...I watched him move away from me, his naked behind twitching with each step, as it caught some of the light coming from a small opening in the drawn drapes. Even in the dead of the night, there was light in Las Vegas. The strip was always lit up.

  The “He” that just rocked my world was good at what he did. There were no names in these situations...I was always “She”, and they were always “He”. I usually don't pay for it, especially considering I'm best friends with the Madame of the ritziest brothel in Nevada, but my regular guy here in Vegas was called out of town, which I found strange. But “Mr. Gigolo” in the bathroom got the job done, so I'm not complaining.

  He came back to bed, kissed my forehead, and rolled over on to his right side. I think this was finally the opportunity I needed to catch some sleep. I really needed it, and like I said before...I love sleeping after hot sex.

  Two

  I started to drift in to a half-sleep, my mind thinking about how I got here. I don't mean the hotel suite in Vegas...I mean how I, Samantha Steel, Agent of GESS, got to this point in my life. As I drifted off, memories flooded in to my dreams, back to my childhood...

  ***

  I was placed in a foster home when I was around two. I don't recall much before the age of five or six, but who does? The one thing I do remember...I was different. I had no parents...I was in the “system”; you know the one where you hear horror stories about foster kids. But that isn't my story. Yes, I may be considered a foster child, but as it turns out, I was really being groomed. Observed. I wasn't like those foster kids you hear about...I was placed in to one home, and there I stayed until I was almost eighteen...which is pretty unusual.

  I recall my foster mom and the other foster kids in the house with us. Seven kids in all. We called our foster mom Jessie, short for Jessica. Jessica Rand. She said she had a husband...this guy who wasn't around much. He showed up from time to time, wearing the same clothes...a black suit, black tie, and a white shirt. All the time. She told us he would be away on business most of our stay with her. I couldn't help but notice that when he did show up, they would have a brief conversation at the front doorway, and I heard my name mentioned more than a few times, but never the other kids.

  I know now that he worked for the government. For the G.E.S.S. Agency. I'm pretty sure she did also, but she was really good to us, so I prefer to think of her as my mom. She was very pretty. Long blond hair, which she always wore in a braid, and pretty blue eyes. Definite eye candy, by anyone's standards.

  Anyway, I noticed things were all about me when I first started growing boobs. I was only eleven, and was already catching the attention of a lot of boys in school my age, as well as the older boys. And I don't mean just my looks. I was unusually strong, and athletic...probably the best athlete in the whole school. And one of the smartest. In fact, school was a complete breeze for me. I absorbed the information they fed me like a sponge. I was very self-aware. Confident. Maybe even a little egotistical.

  Like I said, when I was eleven, my breasts started to develop, and pretty quickly. That's when Mr. Black Suit, who had us all calling him Tom, began making more frequent appearances...even sleeping at the house on a regular basis. If you'd call it sleep. Whenever he did stay more than one night, all we would hear was crazy fucking going on all night.

  I recall one night I had trouble sleeping, listening to the moaning coming from the bedroom next to mine. I went to the door, and looked through the keyhole. I saw Jessie and Tom, naked. They were on the bed, and Tom was lying flat underneath Jessie. They were both facing forward, and Jesse was riding up and down on Tom's cock, her breasts bouncing wildly. Whenever she would slow down, he would start to thrust upward rapidly, his huge dick penetrating her shaved twat.

  I watched for a few minutes, in total shock. But I also became excited, noticing warmth down in-between my legs. I had just started growing pubic hair, and I felt a warm dampness there as I watched the two adults fuck.

  While I watched, my foster brother, Kenny, was also awakened by the noise. He was twelve, and was always playing jokes on me. He tried to sneak up from behind me, but I think he was watching me rub at my crotch as I watched Jessie and Tom going at it. “Hey Sam, whatcha doing?” he asked. I was startled, and hoped he hadn't seen me touching myself.

  I recall putting my finger to my lips, silently saying to be quiet, a giggle escaping my lips. I pointed to the keyhole, which Kenny planted himself in front of, and then he wouldn't budge. Who could blame him...a twelve year old watching a live sex show? Other kids could only dream.

  He watched, while I listened, as Jessie and Tom moaned to their final orgasms. I punched Kenny in the shoulder for hogging the keyhole. He winced, probably more surprised from how hard I hit him, than the actual punch. He pushed my shoulder, jokingly, but I hit him again, knocking him over. This time, I saw a little fear in his eyes as he looked up at me from the floor. Who knew what went through his mind...a little eleven year old girl just knocked a twelve year old boy to the ground. With no real effort.

  Yeah, I knew there was something different about me.

  ***

  Time went by...years. Tom was hanging around more and more. He was always asking me questions, too. “How are you doing in school? What kind of grades are you getting? Are you athletic? How fast can you run?” He didn't ask any of my foster brothers or sisters any questions.

  One Saturday morning, Jessie and Tom had pushed the other kids out of the house, so they could speak with me alone. I was past the age of fifteen now, but looked more like twenty. I was also more keenly self-aware than ever before...innocence was completely lost on me.

  We sat around the kitchen table, just the three of us, and they started to both ask questions. Toms were the usual bullshit questions...mostly about school. But Jessie threw in a question I wasn't ready for.

  “Sam, we've noticed that you've...developed...at a bit of a young age.” Jessie said, eyeing the cleavage between my breasts. “We were wondering if you've gotten your period, yet?”

  Now don't get me wrong, I wasn't shocked. But I was thrown off guard. I stared at Jessie, hoping she would get the telepathic message I was sending her that I wasn't comfortable talking about something like that with Tom here. She didn't get the message...so now you know I'm not telepathic.

  Then Tom started asking a lot of questions along a very similar line...

  “If you did get you're period, would you tell us, or at least Jessie? And we would like to know if you have had intercourse yet.”

  “Intercourse?” I said. “I'm only fifteen years old!” Unfortunately, I did know a few fifteen year olds who'd done it.

  “I know these are uncomfortable questions, Samantha, but you don't seem to be fifteen years old.” Tom said seriously. “In fact, considering your physical appearance, I'm shocked you haven't menstruated yet.”

  I was thinking most fifteen year old girls had gotten their periods already, but no, I hadn't gotten my first period...yet.

  They continued with the questions...strength, intelligence, stamina...they asked me everything. I wanted to know what was going on.

  Jessie reached across the table, and t
ook my hands in hers. “Look Sam, it's obvious you’re a bit different from the other kids...your school grades alone are off the charts. We spoke with your tenth grade teacher just two days ago. She told us she had to ask the twelfth grade teacher for work for you to do, just to keep you busy. And you excel in every athletic event you compete in...even against the boys. And look at you...you're not just cute or pretty...your gorgeous! We're just trying to look out for you, that's all.”

  But that wasn't the truth. They were watching me...measuring me. I knew I was different, but the last question they asked brought it home hard...

  “I have one last question, Sam,” said Tom. “Have you noticed any strong sexual urges? Maybe unusual attractions to anybody...or anybody to you?”

  The question didn't surprise me, but it did peak my interest. Do you know why? Because they were the right questions to ask. Ever since I began to develop physically, my sexual urges were off the charts. I was always imagining people naked. Wondering what it would feel like to be touched on my breasts, or in between my legs. My loins were always aching. Shit I was only fifteen, and I was dying to know how fucking someone felt. But I couldn't answer his question truthfully...not until I understood what was going on.

  The thing was...I knew they wouldn't tell me. At least not yet.

 

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