Persuasive Lips (3 page)

“Do you now?” He smiled. “Are you that fast in your love making as well?”

“I’m not that kind of girl.” Della was emphatic, even though she secretly wanted to be that kind of girl.

“The evidence begs to differ.” He picked up page two of the document and read “Lillian begged, ‘Throw me over the radio and take me like a rabbit, big mariner.’”

She blushed. “You don’t understand. That’s code. It’s just a boring little memo. You know everything is encrypted while we’re at war. It’s not what you think. I can’t help it if the girls at the Office of Strategic Services got bored and came up with a pornographic lingo.”

“So says you. Maybe
you, Miss Davis,
are the bored sex-a-tary who sat at her desk into the wee hours of the night, typing up your fantasies, waiting for an unsuspecting cop to wander in so you could have your way with him.”

How’d he guess?
No, wait a minute...the code really is pornographic.
“Oh, you’d just love to be that innocent cop, wouldn’t you? You think I sit at my desk, hoping you’ll come by and feed me hamburgers and make wild animal love to me?”

“You admit it. But I have to be persuaded, I’m not the type that just gives it to any horny fat girl.”

Anger rose up inside Della. Schoolyard taunts replayed in her brain. “That was mean.”

“What was mean? Me defending my scruples?”

“You know very well what I’m talking about. I can’t help it, I have a glandular problem.”

“Me too. My glands are working overtime sending the signal to sew my seeds deep into the most luscious creature I’ve ever met.”

“What?”

He grabbed her derrière. As he plumped her cheeks he whispered, “You have the most perfect T and A I’ve ever seen. You don’t know how long I’ve craved you. The things I’ve dreamed of doing to you. For you. Because of you.”

“What kind of masher are you? Stop it!” She gyrated and turned away to scramble back onto the bed. Before she could climb on, he maneuvered behind her and pressed his erection up against her plump rear end. She froze.

He whispered, “Type the first line and read it aloud to me.”

“No.”

“You don’t want to be uncooperative, Miss Davis. Type and read me the first line. Again and again. Type dirty to me...” His voice was low and seductive with just a hint of malice.

She grabbed the memo from the bed and placed it next to the typewriter. She spread her feet shoulder width and bent over to reach the keys. Miss Jones began typing as she cleared her throat. “Throw me over the radio and take me like a rabbit, big mariner.” Her voice cracked.

He moved his hands to her breasts and rolled her nipples between his thumbs. “Type it again. Read it again. Type dirty to me, Miss Davis...”

She arched her back, sucked in a breath and repeated as the keys jammed, “Throw me over the...big mariner.”

“You left out some words, Miss Davis.” One hand slipped down to her dark curls. He traced the perimeter.

She felt blood rushing to her feminine zone. Tingles singed her legs. Miss Davis spread them slightly, getting a firmer stance in the high heels. She peeked at his hand on her womanly need and the white garter and sexy stockings. Oh yes. She was going to participate in his perversion. Her perversion. She was up for whatever he desired.

“Tell me what it means.” Agent Jones demanded in a guttural voice.

She panted, “It just means the Army and Marines are going to invade Saipan. In the Northern Marianas Islands.”
Oh no, I’ve divulged military strategy. I’m going to be fired or hung for treason. I don’t care. Tonight is my night. Our night. I can’t believe this is happening.

“That is not what it means. You want me to give it to you doggie style, you dirty little girl.” His voice turned husky with sexual hunger as his finger settled on her clitoris. “Type dirty to me,” he commanded.

The circular motion of his touch and the side to side swaying of the train clouded her thoughts. Della tried to remain professional. “Sure it does. The whole document is about the battle plan for the rest of the allied invasion. You must have read it. All the stuff about Lillian being juicy and trouble is just military strategy to surprise the Japs.”

Agent Jones slipped his other hand between her legs from behind. Miss Davis’ juices flooded his fingers as he rubbed her engorged vagina. She gasped and threw her head back against his chest.

“Tell me some more,
Lillian
.
My juicy Lillian
.” He insisted.

Her knees were weakening. She felt light headed and shocked at the sensations. She swallowed. “Lillian is dreaming of blowing his little member.” And so was she.

“I can’t help you with that.” He pressed his still clothed big member harder against her and began grinding it into her rear end.

“Little member. The Japs.” She panted and reached one hand behind her and placed it as a barrier between her bare bottom and his trousers. Palm side against him, she shocked herself as she betrayed her good girl instincts and closed her hooded eyes as she traced his contours. “Oh yes. Her boyfriend, Big Bruno, is gonna be mad when he catches them.”

“Who is Big Bruno?” He sucked hard on the right side of her neck.

She tried to pull away, knowing he would leave a love mark. July in Washington was way too hot and humid to wear a high necked ruffled blouse to work.

She located the tip of his phallus below the crotch on his left thigh. She playfully pinched it.

He groaned. “Who is big Bruno?”

“You are. The Americans. You are the Americans. You are my American man. My Big Bruno.” She moaned breathlessly.

He twisted her around and kissed her. Shoving his tongue in, he took command of her palate. The train pitched hard to the left and knocked her head against the window. It separated them.

“Oh Miss Davis, are you all right?”

“Yes. How about untying me?”

“No. I can’t do that until the mission is complete.”

She ran her tongue across her swollen lips. Tasting caked on lipstick. “What is the mission?” She unbuttoned two of his shirt buttons, then ripped it the rest of the way open. No undershirt. Strong chest. Dark hair in just the right thickness. She ran her hand across his pectoral muscles and captured a male nipple between two fingers. She teased it taught and leaned her head down to lick it. “What is the mission, Agent Jones?”

He unbuckled his trousers and unfastened them. They pooled around his ankles. He kicked his brogan shoes off and awkwardly stepped out of his pants.

This erotic vision was just too much for a good girl to handle. A cop with his armed holster still on, his shirt ripped open showing the most amazing male chest and heaven help her but she wanted him to take his shorts off. Miss Davis ran her hand down to the waistband of his white drawstring shorts and slipped a finger inside, tenderly stroking the mass of fur.

He pulled the string and the shorts dropped to the floor. His big, big Bruno sprung upright.

So that’s what it looks like. He’s amazing.
She took one step back and admired the whole package. This was so surreal. Better than any daydream she’d had of him. “What is the mission?” Della slipped her hand down to his family jewels and caressed them in the cleft, careful to be very gentle. They were warm and soft. She liked touching him there. So intimate and naughty.

He moaned. “To make a training film.”

She closed her eyes, “There is no camera in here. Come on...tell me the mission.

“To make a training film for the cryptographers.”

He was working her breasts again, so eloquently she felt the connection to her clitoris, something Mother had never told her about.
Fine, I’ll play along.
“Well I guess I flunked out, hunh?”

“What do you mean?”

Her hand trailed up and down the length of his erection. It felt hot and smooth and very hard. “I gave up the secrets. Dang, I should have bit down on the cyanide capsule.”

“No, you most certainly did not flunk and I know you don’t have a cyanide capsule in your mouth. I thoroughly searched it, remember?”

“Perhaps you need to use a different probe?” She couldn’t believe she’d just suggested such a thing.

He groaned. She felt a drop of pre-ejaculate drip out. She wiped it with her fingertip and ran it across her lower lip. Her tongue nipped at it. Hot and salty. Yum. “What is the mission?”

“To make a training film for the cryptographers to determine if their code words make sense. If they make it seem like a plausible way to make love.”

“All the cryptographers I know are women. They wouldn’t want to watch me... Oh, but I see, they’ll be watching
you
...” She snorted. “There is no camera on this train, why am I even going down this fantasy road with you...?”

He hoisted the typewriter back onto the desk. Agent Jones untied Miss Davis, kissed that wrist, and lifted her onto the bed. He locked his eyes with hers as he shoved her legs back against her shoulders. She grabbed her knees, splaying her legs further open. He knelt beside the bed, placing one elbow on each side of her waist before he kissed her. She let go of her knees and ran her fingertips over his scalp, circling in sequence with their tongues.

He cupped her breasts and pulled his mouth away. “Miss Davis, may I make love to you?”

“Sure.” She yanked his face back to hers and kissed him like she’d longed to all these months.

He thrust his manhood into the entrance to her secret keeper. She pulled her mouth away and gasped as her body stretched and pulled to accommodate him.

“Hurting?” he asked, searching her face.

“Just a little...I’ll be...”

He pulled out and repositioned her on the bed and slowly mounted her missionary style. He eased in gently and saw the smile on her face as she began to rhythmically meet his thrusts.

She wrapped her legs around his ankles and felt the soft knit of his socks against her silk stockings. The friction would probably snag them, but it just felt right to cuddle closer to him.

Della dug her nails into Ashley’s shoulders as a spasm shot from her toes in the tight shoes all the way to her hair. She dug here heels into the sheet as she screamed into his mouth, trying to pull away, but he wouldn’t allow it until she shuddered and lay still.

He pushed himself up a bit and searched her face. “Are you all right?”

She softly moaned and closed her eyes.

He held himself up on his elbows and thrust furiously. She gasped and moaned until he climaxed and dropped down onto her. He lay still.

She tapped him on the back. “Hey, umm...you got heavy when you stopped moving.”

He pushed up and withdrew. “Sorry.” As he stood up, he noticed a red smear on the sheet. “I hurt you! I’m so sorry. All you all right?”

“It only hurt a little in the beginning. The other girls were right. I’m fine, don’t worry.”

“I had no idea...I mean I never would have if I had known...”

“You thought I was a bad girl.”

She sat up; inspecting her wrists and the stockings she’d been bound with. Her fingers were a little tingly, but there were no chafing marks. She unfurled the stockings. “Rats, they’re both snagged. Where did you get these anyway?”

“The President’s valet, the little Oriental guy. His wife deals them on the side.”

“Can you get me a fresh pair?” She sighed as she detected runs in the pair she was wearing.

“Sure. I’ll get you half a dozen.” He opened the bathroom door and cleaned himself up in the sink. After drying off, he returned to her and slipped his underwear back on and finished getting dressed.

“What’ll it cost me for the silk stockings?”

“How are you at cooking and keeping house?”

“I will not be your maid. And by the way, who shot me?” She shoved past him and yanked open the closet and retrieved her clothes. She dressed in the bathroom.

He was tidying up the compartment when she emerged. She said, “Well, who shot me?”

“One of the girl secret service agents. Lambert. She was practicing.”

“Practicing on me with live ammo?” Della was stunned and angered. “Chloe Lambert is one of my housemates. I curled her hair this morning. How dare she--!“

“It was just a poisoned barbed bee-bee. Well not exactly poisoned. It was more of a medicated pellet.”

“Why would she shoot me with drugs? Hey, I was bleeding!”

“Really? Good. No, I don’t mean that how it sounded. The Chloral Hydrate was mixed into some red food coloring to mimic blood.”

“Chloral Hydrate? She slipped me a Mickey? But that should have taken effect almost instantaneously. I was able to propel the President all the way to the B.E.P.”

“To begin with, it was only three-quarter strength, and to end with, the drug dose was further weakened because half the pellet was stopped by your brassiere strap. I’m afraid we couldn’t bleach out all the dye, but it’s not noticeable in the pattern of your dress.”

She’d already put the bra on and hadn’t noticed any stain. She stepped into the bathroom. Pulling the sleeve and neck open on her dress she turned around and tried looking at it in the bathroom mirror. She saw a Band-Aid and a brown stain on her bra strap. He was right; it blended into the colors on her dress. She sighed and emerged as he was tying his shoe.

She realized the train hadn’t been moving for a long time. Sunlight peeked through the heavy blue drapes. She kicked off the red stilettos and looked out the window. “Where are we?”

“Potomac Yard. Alexandria.”

“We should be in North Carolina by now.”

“Not for routine maintenance.”

“This was just another drill, wasn’t it? The President isn’t even on this train.”

“Exactly.” Agent Jones smiled.

“Then he knew about it ahead of time. That’s why he wasn’t surprised.” She gasped. “He doesn’t know...”

“Of course not. Come along now. Put your shoes on.” He gathered the silk stockings, the sheet, beer bottles and red shoes into a paper sack.

“I’m starving,” she said as she slipped her own shoes on.