Spyboy: The Spy Who Loved Pussy

Ever since he’d turned eighteen, Alex had noticed something different about himself.

He shouldn’t have. A simple birthday shouldn’t have changed nearly as much in his life as Spyboy had. Compared to that, drinking and driver’s licenses should’ve paled in comparison. But he felt different.

It actually was comparable to Spyboy being activated—learning about that psychic weight inside his head that could bludgeon people to death—but ever-so-slightly, ever-so-tantalizingly different. Like there was a program that’d been in hibernation until now and, having turned eighteen, it was suddenly as active as Spyboy.

He dismissed it as teenage hormones—then, figured it was a little odd how steadfastly his hormones were pointing at Bombshell, aka Marta Hari. Maybe those were instincts kicking in. And the biggest difference between him and Spyboy seemed to be that he didn’t listen to his instincts; so maybe he should give her a try.

He knocked on the door of the house where she lived, just like any other high school student. Only she had the house to herself. So when Alex heard footsteps, he knew it was Marta.

The door opened a crack. “It’s five in the morning, ‘spy. What are you doing here?”

“Standing,” Alex smartassed. “Breathing. Talking, some.”

“You can’t phone ahead to tell me you’re coming?”

“I didn’t want to ruin the surprise.”

Alex felt a firm push towards Marta, like his subconscious was screaming at him, and he put his hand against the door. Pushed it open, even with Marta leaning on it. She was shoved back, stumbling further into the house as if to make room for Alex, who charged in after her.

Marta wore a floor-length nightie—not at all what he would’ve expected, but it showed her off absolutely incredible in all its thin sheerness. Like she was naked and some enterprising spiders had just started a web at her chest and run it down to her ankles.

“What the fuck?” Marta ran her hands through her cropped blonde hair. “Get out of my house, Alex!”

Alex felt what to say to her swelling in his head like a migraine, forcing itself out of his mouth. “You’ve been acting erratic. Unbalanced. Too much stress.”

“Yeah, so—that’s none of your business!” Marta spat, covering herself with arms at her breasts and groin, then trying to hold herself at him so he couldn’t see past her to her pert buttocks. Though even her svelte back was a thing of beauty, in that nightie that she might as well have been sleeping naked in.

“It is my business,” Alex said, not quite recognizing himself but not quite minding either. It was like he was going under, becoming Spyboy, but he was along for the ride now. Kinda enjoying having Marta on the backheel instead of perpetually being overridden by her, knocked for a loop by her. “You’re my partner. If you’re not operating at peak efficiency, I can’t operate at peak efficiency. That might get me killed. I can’t have that. I don’t think you would appreciate it much either, since you’d be dead well before I am.”

Marta scowled, forgetting herself under the weight of one more shock to her system. She lowered an arm thoughtlessly—Alex made out a pink nipple swimming into view and saw that it was stiff. “Spuh—Spyboy? Izzat you? What are you… no one activated you!”

Alex wasn’t in any mood to sort out where he ended and Spyboy began. As far as he was concerned, all of him wanted to do this. His strong arms went around Marta’s body and he forced her close enough to kiss. His tongue pushed into her mouth and stayed there until she was gasping for air.

“See? You’re feeling better already,” Alex said softly. “We have to relieve all that tension.”

“Relieve my tension?” Marta panted. “You can’t just—can’t just decide to fuck me!”

“Why not?” Alex asked. “If you wanted to fuck me, we’d do it right now. Why should it be any different if I decide I want to fuck you?”

“Because I don’t—I don’t want—“ Marta couldn’t even get the words out. With only her nightie as a paltry defense separating her body from his, it seemed impossible for her to put up any barrier between his probing and her own innermost desires.

“You already want to,” Alex corrected her. “You’ve wanted to since before I kissed you and you damn sure want to now. Take off the gown. I’m not going to argue with you.”

Alex let go of her and Marta knew she could’ve done any number of things in the opening he’d given her. Run from him. Attacked him. Gone for one of the explosives she kept around the house for just such an occasion, only she didn’t at all feel ready for this.

He seemed to have an unstoppable drive to possess her—all the more potent for his control, for how he’d almost mockingly dared her to defy him—and she felt like she had no will at all to resist him.

Alex was right. She did want this. Maybe only a little… maybe she refused to let it be more than a little… but that didn’t matter. It was a small flame and now its heat was that of the raging bonfire that was Alex’s want. Or Spyboy’s. Or both.

Maybe that was why he was so irresistible. There were really two of him in there. They both wanted her. They were double-teaming her. It was so unfair.

“If you’re going to think about it all night,” Alex cut in, “I’ll just go home. And you can be here, all alone, when you finally decide to open your legs.”

Marta took that like a bodyblow. She’d already missed out on so much. A normal life, a happy childhood—now he’d dangled what she wanted before her and she was going to miss out because she wasn’t really sure it was what she wanted? She couldn’t bear that.

Woodenly, she pulled out the laces on her nightie and let it slide down her body. There was nothing underneath.

Alex smiled in admiration of her slender, luscious body. He reached out to put his hands on her hips. Rubbing, squeezing the dimpled flesh between her buttocks and back.

“That feels nice,” he told her. “Real nice. I think I’m going to have some fun taking care of your tension.”

Marta didn’t know what to say, but she quickly realized that didn’t matter. Alex had said everything that was important. Now he was going to do everything important. She didn’t have to do or say anything. It would all happen to her, just like she’d dreamed of.

Alex even picked her up and carried her to the bedroom. Marta felt like she was flying, the air conditioning fluttering over her bare skin like she was speeding through the air. Even though it must’ve taken several moments for Alex to make his way up the stairs and to her bed, she still felt like she’d been flung there.

He thrust her down on the bed. Marta tried to resist the hot feelings growing inside her—tried to categorize them, figure out where they came from—but her body had betrayed her too thoroughly for her to be at all rational about this. She felt wetness starting between her thighs and knew that when Alex entered her, there’d be nothing stopping it. Everything that was her was inviting him in.

“Oh God,” she moaned, realizing Alex could’ve taken her at any time. That she would’ve given into him so many times over the months they’d known each other; she had no idea when she would’ve told him no, if ever. Whatever was about to happen to her… she’d missed out on it for so long. “Why didn’t you do this before?”

Alex dropped his head down and tasted Marta’s shapely breasts like he had always wanted to. He felt her clenching herself against her desire but the heaving swollenness of her breasts gave her away.

She wasn’t some statue. She was feeling everything he was doing to her and she was liking it. And Alex was going to make her like it even more.

“Your breasts taste good,” he told her. “I think I could suck on them all day.”

He opened his mouth as wide as possible and tried to get all he could of her sizable breast inside. He got almost half the curvy flesh into his mouth. Then he started to sink his teeth into the quivering, goosepimpled skin.

“Oh God,” Marta moaned. “I—you… thank God you didn’t go this before… oh, shit, it’s been so long!”

Alex didn’t know what she was talking about. He didn’t think she did either. Maybe she cared; he didn’t. All that mattered to him was how he was enjoying her body. He moved his lips down her twitching belly, lined with clenched muscle, and then found her neatly trimmed pussy.

Wondered if she kept her thatch that way to preserve her cover as a high school student or just because she liked knowing she was all but Brazilian under her thong underwear. He sucked on what little there was of her silky pubic hairs, tasting the arousal that suffused her inner world.

Marta couldn’t fight this. It felt too fucking good. The fire was already burning between her legs; she had never known that a man’s tongue could do this to her, but she had to admit it to herself. She felt more like a porn star than a spy.

And she also had to confess that it was Alex Fleming who was making her feel this way. Spyboy, too. She didn’t know which of them it was, precisely, Alex with a major attitude adjustment or Spyboy with a sudden taste for female flesh. Not knowing made it all the more exciting.

He moved over her body, rubbing himself against her. Marta felt his cock inside his trousers, long and hard, a hell of a lot bigger than she would’ve expected. She found herself reaching down to touch it.

“I want your cock,” she moaned.

Her fingers found his engorged erection. Alex stroked her tit as she closed her fingers around his length. He didn’t want his cock to stay in his pants any more than she did. Alex slid his hand down and unzipped his fly.

“You want it?” he asked her. “Go get it.”

He made her feel like a dog running after a bone, but Marta did it. Her hand darted into his crotch until she was touching bare flesh. She roughly pulled it out of his open zipper. Still holding onto the swollen member, she stroked it hard.

“Good,” Alex groaned. “That’s very good…”

Alex pulled away from her and began to undress. Marta jumped to help him. She’d never taken a man’s clothes off before but it seemed like the natural thing to do when she herself was already so underdressed.

She helped him peel off his shirt and couldn’t resist running her fingers through his chest hair. He was so much better built even than the jocks at his school, his muscles compact and strong. She felt them tensing, quivering with potent power.

“God, no wonder you’re such a good fighter—I bet you could break me in two!” Marta gasped.

Alex sat down on the bed and laid back on his spine. “You said you wanted it,” he reminded her, and she stripped his jeans down his sculpted legs, then his briefs, careful to work his hard cock out of them. Then he was naked. Hers.

She reached for his dick, but he stopped her. Instead, Alex reached out to her, putting his hands in her hair and pulling her down into his lap. “You want to touch it? Use your mouth. I want to feel your sweet lips sucking cock.”

Marta looked at him in shock. She’d never even imagined doing something like that. But the thought quickly filled her mind, looking down at the huge meaty hulk that stood up over his belly, blue veins running up and down the thick shaft, precum trickling from the tiny hole at the tip.

“I… I’ve never—” she whispered pitifully.

“But you will,” Alex said. “You know you will. You’ll do whatever I want you to because that’s how you get my cock. And you want my cock.”

Having her own words thrown back in her face seemed to widen the hole through which her resistance was draining. Marta let Alex pull her closer and closer. It made her wish she’d grown her hair longer so there was something to blot out the looming view—but finally, she was close enough to touch her lips to his prick.

“Kiss it,” Alex told her. “You love dick—kiss what you love. Kiss my dick.”

Marta couldn’t deny her own boiling urges. She pressed her lips gently against the underside of his manhood. It trembled on her lips, tasting of sweat and a masculine alkalinity she knew she wouldn’t find anywhere else on his body.

Marta lifted her head, knowing that wouldn’t be enough. Not for either of them. Alex wanted his cock sucked and Marta wanted, more and more, to give him what he wanted. But he made no move to force her.

“Go on,” he said to her. “Show me what a good cocksucker you can be.”