"Can You Keep A Secret?" (closed)

[TheWorldBuilder]

"Nothing, oh sweet Viola, nothing." he replied to her anguished query. "You just offered me a fantasy. I would love to shower with you, but it might be a squeeze."

 

[CutiePie1997]

Viola laughed again, once more feigning shyness. She moved to him, only dropping her blouse to the carpet a second before pressing up to him for an embrace and a kiss. She urged his hands to her back side and stood tall on her tippy toes; at 5'11, Alan stood tall over a now barefoot, 5'6" tall Viola. Once again, she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him passionately, pressing her body tightly against his own.

Finally she moved a couple of inches away, pushed his coat off his shoulders, and reached for the buttons of his shirt. She asked, "Puis-je vous déshabiller? May I … undress you?"

If he said nothing or answered positively, Viola would begin removing Alan's clothing: shirt, belt, shoes, pants, underwear...

What would she see once he was even more naked than she?

 

[TheWorldBuilder]

Viola crossed her own imaginary line in the carpet, reassured now that Alan's actions were in a positive light. Was it simply his English reserve? The Americans just threw her on her back or, in one painful instance, her front. Her eyes were level with his mouth, until she stretched like a ballerina to place her lips on his. Her arms wrapped round his neck to provide support.

"Puis-je vous déshabiller?" she enquired, opening three buttons of his shirt. Alan straightened his arms downwards, so that the jacket she had pushed to the back of his shoulders slipped to the floor. He could feel his hardness returning after it had reacted to her anguish. Not yet fully grown, but probably around Mr. Average. His hand in the middle of her back coaxed her that last step closer, so he could finally feel those little rocks against his bare chest. Naturally, their texture was actually soft and warm.

He bent slightly forward and whispered in her ear, "with your teeth."

 

[CutiePie1997]

Viola had to restrain herself from smiling at Alan asking that she undress him with her teeth. She looked up into his eyes with a curious expression as if the request didn't translate well … then she giggled. She expressed her doubt that it could be done, asking, "Ce n'est pas possible, n'est-ce pas?"

She began unbuttoning his shirt, still giggling nervously, looking from his eyes to his chest … from his eyes to his belly. She pulled his shirt open to expose his torso … to touch his chest … to caress his skin. She moved closer to kiss his sternum … then again to the left … then to the right. She stood on her toes again to press her lips to his in a soft but erotic kiss … as her hands caressed down his belly to find his buckle...

...and as she was loosing it … then his pants … she softly asked a question that most other women would have asked yesterday before even the first kiss. "Are you married, Alan."

She had looked to Alan's ring finger often during their time together, to the lighter skin that indicated a ring had once been there. She knew, of course, that he was married. Hell, she knew more about Alan's wife than she did his job. What she didn't know was how he would respond to her question: would he say he was divorced? or would he say he'd lost his ring? or would he admit to being married but claim his working conditions required his hands be free of conductive materials? There were a great many reasons a married man removed his wedding band, including wanting to hide his marital status from the young pretty French girl he wanted to fuck.

Even as he was answering -- possibly deciding not to answer -- Viola continued to loose his slacks from his hips to push them downward. She obviously didn't care what his answer was; she was going to have sex with him anyway.

 

[TheWorldBuilder]

She didn't think it was possible. Should he press the point, see if she'd play those gentle games with him? His inner vision saw her for a moment, the silk scarves binding her to the old, brass bed in a Saltire, blindfolded so she couldn't see the feather and the ice cube.... The reality of her hands fluttering across his chest was enough, there would be plenty of opportunities for playtime in the future, he hoped. Her fingertips dallied with his soft fur, tracing that thicker line that grew between xiphisternum and umbilicus before it merged into the very 70s bush that surrounded his genitals.

She kissed the uppermost point of the fluffy highway, feeling the regular triple beat even through the solidity of his breastplate. He felt a touch of damp on first one nipple, then the other. Oh, how he longed to reciprocate that action - followed by reciprocation of a deeper and more primal kind, inside her yielding body. She stretched to kiss him again, whilst her hands went in the opposite direction.

Then she broke the spell.

"Are you married, Alan?"

"Why now, Viola? If you really cared, you'd have asked me that when you took my number. Yes," he said, "I am."

 

[CutiePie1997]

"Why now, Viola?" he asked. "If you really cared, you'd have asked me that when you took my number."

"I do not care," she admitted in a soft voice as his slacks fell away.

"Yes ... I am."

"I do not care," she repeated again. She stood upon her toes again to kiss him, more softly than erotically this time. She lowered to her knees to help him out of his clothes, then rose to ask softly, "Why not tell me? Why with me … not with wife?"

But before he could respond, Viola pressed a finger to Alan's lips, shushing him softly. "Forgive me, Alan. I should not ask … because I do not care. I want to be with you … you want to be with me, yes?"

She took him by a hand, and if he did not resist she would lure him to the bathroom to fill the claw foot tub with hot water and sudsy bubbles … and make love to him.

 

[TheWorldBuilder]

Viola bent to loosen his laces and remove his shoes. He cooperated by lifting each foot in turn, allowing each trouser leg to fall away once she'd removed the shoe.

She came back up, asking why he was with her. Before he could speak, she continued, "Forgive me, Alan." Gently Viola took his hand.

How could he tell this beautiful young girl? This apparition who stepped into his life just yesterday, like a spring breeze blowing away all the stuffiness of his stale home life. My wife's been fucking around for years and she's not going to give me the family I would love so much. In fact, she's a bitch.

He let her guide him into the adjoining room. The ornate Louis XV rococo bath filled half the small salle de bain. There was barely space for the couple to stand together alongside it. How on Earth it got in here.... Alan could only speculate that this room protruded from the rear of the ground floor and had been built around the plumbing.

Viola's presence cut short his meandering thoughts, until he noticed that her thong and his tight briefs were exactly the same colour. His excitement was obvious to her, random thoughts notwithstanding.

She began to fill the tub, "eau chaude?", she asked.

"Non, tiède," he replied.

Viola altered the mixture to cool the flow slightly, then added the entire contents of two of the tiny, complementary bath lotions. The resulting foam rapidly rose out of the bath and started to advance across the floor.

The couple's spontaneous shared laughter did nothing to stop the filmy monster rising before them until Alan leaned across and shut off the taps.

"Oh, well", he said, "I guess the floor would have been soaked when we started sloshing around anyway."

Before he could stand straight, he felt her hands at the sides of his tight briefs and her breath on his stomach.

 

[CutiePie1997]

Viola couldn't stop smiling and giggling as they prepared the bath. It wasn't all an act either; she was honestly enjoying this moment with Alan. As the old bath tub filled, she pressed up against his body again, kissing him passionately and clutching her hands to his body. He was a bit overweight these days; his filed included pictures of him from 3, 5, 10, even 20 years earlier, and he had indeed put on a bit of weight. And yet he was still fit and felt great in her arms. It seemed to fortunate, Viola thought, that Alan was just the kind of man she could see herself picking up at a bar or museum or art gallery or even in a small café in the French countryside.

She laughed again when he talked about how some of the water in the tub likely wouldn't remain there. She quipped, "We make wave, yes...? Like, um … ouragan … hurricane, push wave over shore. Are we make disaster zone of bathroom, Alan…?"

He turned the water off before the level got too dangerously high, and when he turned back to her, Viola was pushing her thong off her hips and down her legs. At the meeting of her thighs and belly, she had a triangular patch of neatly trimmed hair. It wasn't so much the style these days; most women shaved entirely or waxed or cut an interesting design that was supposed to somehow imply that she was even more sexier and more beautiful than she was.

Viola figured that by the time a man saw her without her panties on, she didn't need a stylish pubes-cut to make a man want her. She smiled to Alan, then scooped up a handful of weightless bubbles and decorated his hairy chest with them. She laughed again, comparing them to Santa and Mrs. Claus, "C'est à ça que ressemble le Père Noel quand il a des nakes avec Missus Claus."

Viola pressed her bosom to his chest again, causing the bubbles to poof into the air between them. She kissed him again, then reached downward … into his underwear as she said with a seductive tone, "Do you think Père Noel and his wife do this when he come home from delivery all the toys to the world's children?"

She laughed again, pulled her hand out of his underwear, and used both to pull the waist band of them off his hips. She showed a bit of surprise at seeing that he wasn't circumcised. Being entirely truthful with him, Viola said, "I've never been with a man who wasn't … what the word, Alan … for--"

She grasped his cock again with one hand and made a scissors snipping gesture with the other, saying, "Cut?"

Viola backed away -- without releasing her hold on Alan's growing erection -- and stepped over the edge of the tub. It was hot but not too much so, and only now did she free up her hand and use both to cautious get in. She held a hand out to him, waggling her fingers as she had before.

 

[TheWorldBuilder]

Viola's thong slipped down to reveal a naturally fluffy triangle. OK, there was obviously some gardening near the edges, but Alan knew her choice was not the norm for her contemporaries. He recalled his train of thought on his very first encounter with the girl, his hopes had been fulfilled in so many ways.

She smeared the soapy water across his chest and made a throwaway comment about Mother and Father Christmas getting naked. Reaching lower, she slid her slim hand into his briefs, tantalisingly brushing his still hardening cock as she asked another question about the fairytale couple. It seemed a little odd, but he stopped caring about the subject as she pulled his briefs out and lowered them past his engorged flesh.

"I've never been with a man who wasn't," she made another of her little pantomimes, "cut?"

He knew that she was too experienced for him to be only her second. He thought of the large community of immigrant Middle Easterns who had settled in the capital with their Algerian cousins, perhaps she moved in those circles? Americans, weren't lots of them chopped, too?

She released him to support herself as she climbed into the slippy bath. Even before she held out her hand, he was already moving to join her.

Not the lukewarm he had asked for, but bearable. He felt his balls dropping as they tried to find a coolness away from his body heat. Evolution obviously didn't know about water heaters. He sat down facing her and, finally, reached his soapy thumbs forward to swirl around a nipple each. Making the circles larger, Alan twisted his hands to bring his palms into gentle contact with the underside of her breasts. He cupped and squeezed lightly, before returning to a gentle circular motion - now encompassing the entirety of her sensitive cones. Viola seemed to be content, for the moment, to lie back in the tub and let him explore her luscious body.

 

[CutiePie1997]

Alan's caressing and gentle groping elicited a soft humming of appreciation from Viola. The sounds and expected body language wasn't faked; she truly was delighted at the pleasure the man was causing her. Her legs were bend folded beneath her buttocks, but she pulled them out, slid them along the edge of the tub around the Englishman's waist, and grasped his upper arms to pull him close enough that the tip of his cock pressed against her curly muff.

"Do not stop, Alan," she purred as she reached to grasp the tub's edge. She laid her head back upon the tub's lip and stared directly into his eyes. "You make me feel merveilleux … wonderful..."

She suddenly leaned up to take Alan's face into her hands, kissing him passionately. When she sat back again, she took hold of one of his hands and urged it down between her legs, whispering again, "Merveilleux..."

 

[TheWorldBuilder]

The feeling of her inner thighs resting on his love handles was intensified by the faintest tickle at the very end of his bell. Were those wet hairs rubbing and tickling his little eye? Apart from his perfunctory handling of her breasts, Alan had barely given her any foreplay, yet he was ready to believe that the inside of her body was as wet as the outside.

"Do not stop, Alan." She pulled on the 300 year old tub and he bent his elbows to allow her to rise in front of him. She kissed, hard and deep, thrusting her tongue almost to his uvula. The message was unmistakeable. Enter me. As she settled back again, taking his right hand to lay on the curve of her soft - yet firm - mound, her arse slid another inch towards him.

It was just enough. Easing back the last of his foreskin against her inner lips, his head popped inside her tight tunnel. He moved his hand slightly and let his thumb find the small hardness under its protective cover. As gently as he could, he slowly began to stroke. Not circles now, a repetitive lengthwise motion. A featherlight touch along the swelling, lift and extend the thumb, gently close the digit and tantalise her nerves. Again, again, again. Slowly, gently, teasingly - all the while with the bulb of his knob on those sensitive nerves right inside her entrance.

 

[CutiePie1997]

Viola's bosom was beginning to rise and fall more dramatically as Alan toyed with her clitoris. Spy or not, assignment or not, she was most definitely enjoying this part of her job. In fact, at this point, the job was the last thing on her mind. Viola didn't often fuck men outside of her duties: she didn't currently have a lover and hadn't had one in so long that she would have had a hard time remember who the last one was if she were asked; and, to be honest, when she did seek sexual release outside of work, more often than not she went looking for a one-off with an individual who shared her own arrangement of intimate body parts.

Oh, it wasn't that Viola was a lesbian. She didn't even consider herself bisexual. It was simply that she found women more easy to control and manipulate in bed -- or in a bathtub -- and when she was seeking sexual gratification, Viola wanted control over what was done, how it was done, how long it lasted, and when the parties went their separate ways. Thus, women.

Viola didn't share this part of her life with others; she didn't speak of her personal sex life with anyone, not even with the men or women with whom she was finding such bliss. She separated her personal sexual encounters from her professional ones … usually! She didn't know it yet -- how could she -- but in the weeks to come spent with Alan, there would come a time when she would bring in female reinforcements to expand her new lover's sexual horizons. It would provide a great adventure for him … as well as give her more ammunition against him if ever this relationship between them required a little bit of extortion.

For now, though, Viola was simply very happy to be feeling what she was feeling down between her parted thighs. Alan's attention to her ever sensitive clitoris was causing her chest to rise and fall with deepening breaths and more audible sighs of building pleasure. The feel of the Englishman's cock at the entrance caused Viola to begin rolling her hips and buttocks about feel him all about the flesh of her pussy.

"Attendre…" Viola whispered, urging him to postpone entering her any more than he already was. She repeated the word once in French, then again in his own language, "Wait, Alan … no hurry."

It was hard delaying the fuck, as Viola wanted to feel the euphoria of orgasm probably even more than did Alan. But the teasing touch of the man's cock at her hole, combined with the magic of his finger tip upon her love button was simply too much to rush beyond. Viola was building toward orgasm but was beginning to doubt she would achieve it like this. She shifted her legs about Alan's waist, dug her heels into the sides of his back and -- grasping tightly to the tub's edge -- pushed her pussy down upon his cock, impaling herself with an audible gasp of combined surprise, pain, and pleasure.

 

[TheWorldBuilder]

Alan's thumb slipped off Viola's clitoris as she bent her knees and allowed her weight to carry her down the sloping foot of the antique heirloom. The fact that she was as wet inside as he had hoped ensured that his whole length slipped smoothly between her parted lips until her motion slowed, as the fact that her feet were between his bum and the sides of the tub meant that she couldn't spread herself fully open to welcome him.

Quickly, he adjusted his right hand to ensure that the external stimulation of his eager partner wasn't lost. By flexing her muscles in a kind of inclined squat, Viola was able to slide up and down the slope. She preferred to regulate the penetration, as Alan's hot meat was her first for a while and he seemed to be imperceptibly filling her a little more with each thrust.

She was certainly going deep, using those firm calf and thigh muscles to lift herself to the point where his pulled back foreskin encircled the base of his head and then sliding back down her improvised chute until she almost sat on his bollocks.

Knowing that he would grow a little, now that her tight, but comfortable, sheath gripped his entire length at the end of each stroke, Alan began to speed up his stimulation of the clitoris that seemed to jump up to meet him. He hoped that now he had almost reached his full growth, he wasn't hurting his slender lover.

 

[CutiePie1997]

Almost without even thinking of what she was doing, Viola was sliding up and down the sloped back of the tub, the excess of bubble soap added to the water lubricating it as well as her own body was lubing the canal Alan was filling with each change in direction. She quickly fell into a wonderful pattern; her upward and downward movements, which were also somewhat backward and forward as well, mirrored the movement of the tub's liquid content, causing the entire volume -- bubbles, too -- to move from one end of the tub to the other. Each cycle threatened to spill water over the tub's opposite ends, and when -- at one point -- Viola opened her eyes to see the effect, she reminded him of her earlier comment about hurricanes and their watery damage, saying, "Hurrican Viola est arrive."

And as if the Gods had been listening, Viola laid her head to the tub's edge and arched her bosom and belly forward … and after a long held breath … suddenly gasped out loudly as ecstasy erupted throughout her body. She drew another deep breath … gasped … and repeated as her entire body stiffened at the waves of pleasure ripping through her. She reached out to grasp one of Alan's forearms, digging her nails into his flesh, possibly breaking skin; her legs wrapped even tighter around his waist and pulled him closer, ramming his cock even deeper into her than it had been.

A single, loud laugh escaped Viola's throat, then another gasp, and then another pair of chuckles as she finally opened her eyes and looked to her lover. Her face was filled with obvious joy and satisfaction as she struggled to get out her praise to God and Alan both, "Mon Dieu, Alan ... c'était incroyable … incredible mon Dieu..."

She relaxed her body and let it slide down into the tub and -- again -- seemingly even further down Alan's shaft. She could feel her quivering pussy filled with his length and girth. She gestured desperately for him to grasp her arms and moved forward to sit in his lap as her mouth found his in a fury of passionate kisses.

"Je veux te rendre aussi heureuse que tu m'as fait, Alan," she told him, expressing her desire to make him as happy as he had just made her. "What can I do for you, Mon amour?"

She was ready to continue riding him here as they were or get out or turn her backside to him or anything that would make him cum as hard inside her as she had just done upon him.

 

[TheWorldBuilder]

Her rhythmic inclined squats were not only challenging Alan's coordination, as he attempted to keep the contact with her clitoris as delicate as possible, but also spilling even more water onto the wet floor. He could feel her delicate spasms along the length of his shaft and knew the young girl was coiling her emotional and physical springs as tight as she could wind them. He flicked her little nubbin faster, his experience suggesting to him that she was just seconds away. As she panted out a comment about Hurrican Viola her previously metronomic rhythm slowed a little and he felt even more pressure on his balls as her arse bottomed out. Was he imagining it? Was there also the faintest hint of a tickle right at the end of his sensitive urethra?

Alan had no time to see if the sensation was repeated on her next deep thrust. Viola's entire body spasmed into an arch and, after missing a breath, she gasped four, five, six... times.

She pulled at his arm and pushed his buttocks with her heels. She wanted him deeper, she wanted his seed to bypass her vagina and uterus and be squirted directly onto the fertile egg waiting in her fallopian tube. Oh, my God, Alan thought, far too late, condom.

Her face shone. It glowed, it radiated, it rivalled the midday Sun. Her moist eyes looked into his as she cried out her ecstasy to God and her lover in a French which was not her usual soft lilt, but an almost agonised shriek.

Viola leapt over Alan's final emotional hurdle with a single bound. This wasn't just a standard fuck, there was more, a connection. The release of hormones that followed that understanding diverted even more blood into his corpora cavernosa, which swelled his penis to its full extent. Neither of them noticed the small increase in length at that moment, but Viola was certainly aware of the girth inside her. She covered Alan's face in kisses, babbling incoherent phrases from which he caught words like happiest and love. He just wanted her to start sliding again.

Alan moved his hands to her ribcage and gently lifted. Viola's agile brain instantly grasped his meaning. She began her enjoyable exercise routine once more and now she was sure. Inside her, Alan was longer, thicker, harder and hotter than before the moment she had breathlessly called him, "Mon amour."

He knew for sure now, every thrust tapped the top of his bell with the rubbing of a tiny, firm bump at the very top of her clenching sheath. He wasn't entirely sure whether he'd fallen in love with this remarkable woman, but he knew he'd fallen in lust. He began to match her downward thrusts with an upward twitch at the bottom of each cycle, driving her towards her second orgasm and him, now he was fully hard inside her, to his release.

 

[CutiePie1997]

By the time Viola was coming down from a second, very surprising orgasm, she was almost hoping that this assignment might last several years, rather than the several months she'd been given to get the results her handlers demanded. It had been an eternity since she'd enjoyed such powerful orgasms with a man, and the reasons behind her being here with this English military man suddenly mattered not.

Viola clasped her arms around Alan's neck for the longest time, pressing her face into the cleft of his shoulder and skull, sometimes kissing his neck but mostly just holding on as her heart beat and breathing slowly returned. A cramp finally began to threaten her left leg, and she knew it was time to get out. She pulled her face back, kissing Alan softly but passionately. She pulled the rubber stopper from the drain, turned the water back on, adjusted the temperature, and used the hosed sprayer head to wash away the bubbles that clung to their bodies.

Finally out of the tub, she dried her new lovers body before he did the same for her...

And then it was right back to fucking, only this time on the bed. Viola wasn't working now; this was all about enjoying what the man had to offer her. She couldn't believe the energy Alan had, the experience he was sharing, and the eagerness he had to please a woman he'd so recently met. For more than two hours, they mussed the sheets in a half dozen positions; Alan easily drove Viola to four additional orgasms before she was simply too exhausted to continue.

They had some food and wine sent up, but after only a few bites Viola knew she was done for the night. She begged Alan, "Viens, pose avec moi. Lay with me. I wish spend the night in your arms, mon amour."

 

[TheWorldBuilder]

Alan was fucked. He wasn’t 30 any more and the last three hours in bath and bed had challenged the stamina he had built up when he used to run regularly. As he lay on his back, gravity pulled at his Buddha belly, minimising the bulge. Further down, the blood had totally drained from his penis and the tiny 2” stub rested against the lower curve of his abdomen. Viola had giggled when she looked at him after his first ejaculation. In one of her little pantomimes, she acted out the remarkable change between the two extremes of his cock’s appearance with her smallest finger and her whole arm. He had replied that she seemed very happy with one of those. He also recalled how, when it rose again, she became far more than just happy.

The bathroom door opened. As she took the few paces to the bed, he admired the entire length of her naked beauty. He stretched out an arm along the edge of the pillows next to him and she lay on her side with her cheek on the curve of his chest muscle and her upper thigh resting on his pelvis. He bent his arm around her slim body, resting his hand on her waist. Gently, he gave a brief squeeze.

Viola sighed and her fingers idly twirled themselves amongst the chestnut hair on his body. She was conscious of a slight chill in the air of the room, but snuggled herself into his radiant heat and tried to ignore it. His chest moved beneath her head, a slow and soothing undulation as his ribcage expanded and contracted above his lungs. The pace was slowing. “Alain?” she queried.

He mumbled softly. She could barely make out the word angel. ”Am I your angel, Alan?” she asked.

“Beautiful angel,” came back the reply, slightly more distinctly. The seven second long rise and fall of his chest was so leisurely now that a nurse would have been worried. Viola simply regarded it as a sign of his deep relaxation and post-coital exhaustion. He appeared to be fast asleep, but he was talking to her. “Make love to an angel,” he whispered. She had heard of sleepwalking, but Alan seemed to be a sleeptalker. As she, too, drifted off to sleep she thought about her job for the first time in hours and if such a trait would help her find what she sought.

Her dream was odd, she was rolling down a hill but then she suddenly stopped and rolled in the opposite direction. It was warmer now, though.

She didn’t feel Alan get back into the bed after going to the toilet in the middle of the night, tucking the upper bedsheet under her side and rolling her back and fro, then pulling the now freed cover over them both.

The morning sunlight roused the entwined lovers, Alan delicately kissing Viola’s soft lips as her eyes fluttered open. He looked deep into them, memorising them. In the last two days…. only two days, he thought…. he hadn’t really noticed their light hazel - almost gold - hue. He had thought they were plain brown, as if anything about Viola could be plain. He didn’t want to move, to shatter this perfect moment. They were touching in so many places, entangled around each other in the bed where they had shared such passion. Only in the throes of that passion had they joined more closely. He certainly didn’t want to recall that in three hours they must part. He pushed that away, buried it in a fresh appreciation of her ethereal beauty, recalled her girlish squeals when his questing thumb had curled into exactly the right place to stimulate her G-spot. Yes, that was a memory he would cherish for a very long time.

Reluctantly, he released her lips.

 

[CutiePie1997]

Alan might have believed that Viola had drifted off to sleep, but in reality she had remained awake. Behind his back, she'd popped a little white pill that had very quickly exploded her back into full consciousness without the trembling or paranoia that accompanied many of the the party-like and mostly illegal stimulants that many people used to keep the party going.

Her plan had been a simple one: wait for her new lover to drift off to sleep -- she'd exhausted him, just as he'd exhausted her -- and then go through his things to find anything of value to her. Alan had his wallet, of course, but he'd also brought a small satchel that had been thrown over his shoulder. After slipping out of bed to go to pee -- cover for being out of bed, obviously -- she returned to the room to scour through his private things.

She didn't really expect to find much, of course, but one thing she did locate was of interest: a totally blank, white key card. It was obvious to her that the presenter of the card to Alan hadn't wanted anyone but him to know what it was. Viola told herself to remember to bring a card scanner the next time she and Alan met. With it, she could copy the code imprinted on the card and possibly even create a copy. Of course, she still needed to find out for what it was designed to open.

She took it and Alan's wallet to the bathroom and used her cell phone's camera to photograph everything, right down to the Frequent Flyer card from a coffee shop he frequented. (Viola didn't know it now, but even his tenth cup freecard would come into play later. A couple of weeks hence, after he'd told Viola that he'd been all the way across Paris that day, she would come to realize that he had in fact been at the university's research lab that day.)

After she'd finished taking pictures, she used an app that would both send all of the images to a highly encrypted server maintained by her handler but delete the images from the phone as well. She quietly put his wallet and white card back, and slipped back into bed. She was chilly when she pressed up against Alan, and even subconsciously he realized it. They whispered back and forth almost imperceptibly as Viola hoped Alan would drift back to sleep...

...and if he had, Viola and her people would have suffered a major loss.

“Make love to an angel,” Alan whispered after he apparently thought Viola had said angel, not Alan.

She studied his face for a moment, looking for signs of consciousness. There were none; he was deep in REM -- rapid eye movement sleep. Viola smiled with delight, as she knew a little something about talking during REM and even non-REM sleep. During the latter, when the unconscious mind isn't creating what some would call sensical dreams, sleep talking is little more than gibberish. It is usually unintelligible, and even when it is the words typically don't work together in a sentence of any structure.

But during REM sleep, the mind is deep in dreamland, and very often the words and sometimes full sentences are playing out those dreams. Of course, most dreams don't have a real world, factual, sensical equivalent. But that was where Viola's training in not just preventing her own sleep talking but in manipulating other's sleep talking came in.

She whispered ever so softly close to the ear of her lover and mark, "Am I your angel, Alan."

His lips spread in an unconscious smile, after which he murmured, "Viola is my angel..."

Viola took note that it seemed he was telling someone else who she was rather than telling her herself that she was his angel. She asked, "Who are you talking to, Alan … who are you telling I am your angel?"

"My friend..." he continued, and after a prompting to say who that friend was, Alan clarified, "My friend … Robert."

Viola wasn't aware of a colleague of Alan's named Robert, but she'd check with Viktor the next time they spoke. She continued on with her ever so subtle prodding for more on Robert, but Alan was back to talking about making love to an angel, and in turn Viola told him that his angel wanted to make love to him.

"Where are you and your angel making love, Alan?"

"In the river..." he murmured, clarifying, "In the Seine … I love love … love with angel … in water … water angel..."

Viola almost laughed; the expression on Alan's face as he did whatever it was that he and his angel were doing was priceless. She tried to direct him to his job, telling him softly, "Your angel wants to make love to you at your work place, Alan."

His expression shifted a bit, looking almost confused. For a moment, Viola feared she had broken the spell; Alan's REM ceased for a moment, he rambled a few incomprehensible words, and then went quiet for an excruciatingly long ten minutes. Then, suddenly, his eye balls began shifting about below their lids and Alan was back. He rambled for a moment, using words like angel, Robert, desk, peeking, and coffee without telling Viola anything of value.

"Viola is my angel..." he suddenly said as clearly as could be, followed a moment later with, "Robert … not polite to peep … my office..."

"Are you making love to your angel in your office, Alan?" Viola went on, always keeping her voice low. When he answered that he was, she asked, "Where is your office, Alan … where do you work?"

More than five minutes of softly prodding him were accompanied with little more than comments about his angel: how beautiful she was, how good she was (which Viola presumed meant at fucking), and how he loved her. Viola couldn't help but smile at that comment. Even if it was only said subconsciously, it made her feel as though she'd hooked her whale with skill. Then, as soon as she thought the word whale, Viola chastised herself. Alan was a good man; she almost felt sorry for what she was doing to him, but it was after all her job.

"Orion..." Alan murmured for seemingly no reason at all. When Viola asked if he meant the constellation, he unconsciously told her, "Orion will work..."

She tried to get more out of him, suddenly thinking that maybe he was working on a project named Orion or involving space travel or star mapping or what-the-fuck-ever. She'd never heard of the 1950s Project Orion, so it didn't occur to her to inquire about that. Maybe when she passed the information up the chain, someone would make some sense of it.

For now, though, Alan's sleep talking was beginning to become more haphazard, while at the same time Viola's kick starter was wearing off. She carefully retrieved her cell phone from the pillow where it had been recording Alan's sleep talking, turned off the app, and looked at the time; it was almost 4 am, and it had taken six hours to get a coworker's name and a word, Orion, that meant nothing to Viola.

With her phone's volumes all set to off and the screen illumination set to its lowest, she repeated the transmission to the cloud and deletion from her SD card before setting the cell aside. She rolled back against Alan, who unconsciously pulled her so tightly into his arms that she almost couldn't breath. With a smile of delight on her lips -- not because of her espionage but because of her evening -- Viola drifted off thankfully into a deep sleep...

[] [] [] [] [] [] [] [] []​

She awoke still in his arms with his lips kissing at her softly. She blinked the sleep out of them, smiled wide, and asked in whisper, "You are looking at me ... why?"

They whispered to one another for several minutes until Viola finally demanded, "Breakfast … and then make love, yes?"

 

[TheWorldBuilder]

Alan sat in the noon shadow of the Statue of Liberty. Of the six in Paris, this one was quite small. She only stood 9’ 4” tall and was an almost brand new replica of Bartholdi’s bronze of 1900, now in the Musée d’Orsay. He was thinking of the 24 hours he had spent in fairyland. As he had in Terrasse l’Alcazar just two days ago, for a moment he wondered if the dream had passed. Then he felt her slim hand touch the back of his neck.

He twisted slightly and looked up, feeling those soft lips as she bent in the old choreographed dance. Aching to hold her slim body again, he knew that now was not the time. “Come on,” he said, “I’ll show you the office, but I warn you, it’s very boring.”

The short walk from the Jardin du Luxembourg to the University allowed Alan’s racing heart to slow. She was her usual chatty, giggly self as they entered the building and called the lift. Letting them both into the office, he moved her towards one of the two large desks that faced each other from the sides. Responding to her natural query, he informed her that his colleague, Robert, sat opposite him. That confirmed the information that her enforcers had unearthed. Robert Jupain was loosely connected to both Arianespace and NASA. There was talk that the new American SLS wasn’t meeting all its test deadlines, ahead of the launch of their new capsule. The possibility that the French and Americans were working together had been raised at her briefing this morning, but that didn’t explain the presence of the Englishman.

Alan couldn’t be sure exactly why Viola had been so insistent on seeing his workplace. There was nothing that might attract the interest of a vivacious young girl. Even the few books on the shelf would have no meaning for her. They were all staid scientific volumes in plain covers - except for his copy of George’s biography of the work of his father and the rest of the team at La Jolla.

 

[CutiePie1997]

The four men and two women sitting around the 16 seat conference table looked between one another with silent expressions of concern, disbelief, anger, fear ... just about every emotion other than the joy and delight that had resulted in the gathering of the information about which they'd been discussing for nearly 72 hours now.

The operative code named Viola had brought them what she'd thought were two insignificant bits of information: a possible coworker's given name of Robert, and the word Orion, which could have meant anything or nothing. But put the two together and do a little creative and speculative crunching of data, and those two words came back with more clarity: Robert Jupain and Project Orion.

"It is impossible," one of the men about the table was insisting in Ukrainian, the language being used by the group this particular day. "We would know if Project Orion was being resurrected. We have at a minimum a dozen people in nine different organizations -- military, government, civilian -- who would have heard something, anything that would indicate that the Americans, the Brits, the French were working on Orion again."

"One did!" Viola's handler spoke up. He wasn't typically in such a high level meeting but had been called to HQ once some analyst matched Jupain's name to a indirectly connected inquiry four years earlier about the 1950's nuclear powered spacecraft project. He continued, "My operative--"

"Your whore?" one of the women at the table asked. It wasn't that she didn't trust intelligence gathered through seduction. It was that she'd attempted to put her own girl into this Brit's bed and had been denied. "Just how is it that this French girl got so much so fast when no one else has?"

Viola's handler only stared for a long moment. He had no intention of mentioning Cholmondeley-Featherstonehaugh's sleep talking, and with sole access to the encrypted cloud, he had the upper hand. This mission was going to catapult him into the upper ranks of the organization, and he wasn't about to give up his advantage because his seductress had been selected over this woman's choice of play toy for the Brit.

The conversation finally ended and the participants went their separate ways. It was decided that Viola would continue to get closer to the Englishman, which her handler had expected. It was also decided that the organization would assign her additional field team members, to assist Viktor should the need arise. Viola's handler didn't like that, but he had no choice in the matter.

Viola for her part was only told to keep on keeping on, to spend more nights in the bed of Cholmondeley-Featherstonehaugh's, who the organization code named Торнадо, or Tornado, for the aircraft of his earlier life. And even though he'd been told not to do so -- for fear that she might let something slip -- Viola's handler instructed her to keep prodding her new lover for information about Orion.

"What is it?" she'd asked when given her updated orders.

"It is better that you find this out on your own," she'd been told. There was a fear within the organization that if she wasn't able to get anything more from Alan, Viola might use the information passed to her from her superiors to fake forward movement. If she was going to learn anything more about Orion, it was going to have to come from the Brit himself. "Be subtle … be cautious … be safe … but also find what we need."

Viola understood her mission. She knew what needed to be done. And for the first time in her career, she didn't mind doing it. Alan had been a very enjoyable mark. He was polite, sophisticated, handsome, passionate, sincere … and he gave her orgasms, which was a nice little bonus if your job was to fuck information out of your mark.

They had kept in touch via texts and calls but their only face to face had been a lunch yesterday. A pair of men who knew Alan had unfortunately shown up at a neighboring table, so the only intimacy between them had been goodbye kisses on the cheeks and an inconspicuous brushing of Viola's hand across Alan's crotch. By the time they got together today, Viola was hoping Alan's cock was already fully stiffened and hoping for some undivided attention.

He met her in the
“Come on,” he said, “I’ll show you the office, but I warn you, it’s very boring.”

They met at the Luxembourg Gardens and headed arm in arm for Alan's offices. Viola had begged him in previous conversations to show her his office, and although he didn't understand her fascination, he obliged. He showed her his desk, as well as that of his partner. Robert Jupain. She feigned ignorance about Robert, of course, even incorrectly calling him a different name twice before laughing and saying with emphasis, "Robert! Robert! Robert!"

Viola spent ten minutes simply picking up items and asking What is this? or What does this do? or -- when she found a neat little scale model of an aero plane -- asking Can I have this … if I make mad love to you tonight?

She didn't see anything in Alan's office that meant anything of significance to her with respect to either Robert Jupain or whatever was called Orion. Hopefully the analysis team would find something in the visual recording being made from the button camera Viola was wearing. She herself didn't imagine they would; it wasn't as if Alan could have brought her here if there was classified information or items just laying out for her to see or steal, right?

As she wandered about, Viola found herself near the office door again. She casually stepped over to it, opened it, looked for the receptionist who earlier had said she was going for lunch, closed the door again … and locked it with a sly smile. As she walked toward an old vinyl covered couch that looked to be as old as herself, Viola began loosing the buttons between her breasts.

"Come sit, Alan," she invited as she pulled her dress from her shoulders and let it fall to gather about her modest heels. She was bare breasted, of course -- as she had been every moment she'd been in Alan's presence since they met -- and the tiny thong she wore was barely large enough in front to hide the small triangular patch of trimmed and edged hair that Alan had blown gently into while going down on her, making Viola giggle and squirm at the ticking feeling. She added, "Make yourself comfortable … by which … my meaning is take pants off … yes?"

She stepped out of her dress and waited with a seductive smile to see if he now understood why she'd wanted to have lunch in his office rather than in some overpriced café.

 

[TheWorldBuilder]

As she moved, apparently aimlessly, about the office Viola managed to pick up almost every knick-knack that Robert and Alan had collected during their careers. He winced inside when she lifted the solid silver Panavia Tornado F3 which had been presented to him by Her Majesty, as he collected the Distinguished Flying Cross for meritorious conduct during the 1991 liberation of Kuwait.

”Can I have this, if I make mad love to you tonight?” she asked him.

“I can’t get away tonight, my darling,” Alan replied, “although making mad love sounds like a very good idea.”

Viola stepped across to the office door and opened it a few inches to look out onto the fourth floor landing. With a cheeky grin, she closed and locked it. Walking towards the settee that hugged the back wall of the office, she slowly started to undo the buttons which adorned the front of her long, tight dress.

Two hours later, he having penetrated her soft, warm body in a variety of erotic poses, the lovers sat face to face with Alan’s tumescent length deep inside as she gently rocked back and fro. They still hadn’t had lunch.

“You know I can’t bear to be apart from you,” he said, “but I won’t be able to see you for three days. I’ll call you every moment that I can. Please understand, I can’t tell you why but it’s something unavoidable at work.”

He knew she would protest, hell but he had too when the order came from the Ministry of Defence as he sat beneath Liberty. In the crisp style which first evolved during the Napoleonic wars, it simply read: Report ONCIX, utmost.

Alan certainly wasn’t looking forward to the trip, especially as Evanina was likely to be personally overseeing any assets involved. As the major financial backer of the project, the US was nominally leading the two teams Alnitak and Alnilam whilst the UK coordinated Mintaka. As part of both Alnitak and Alnilam, he was nominally seconded to the USAF for the duration. He would far rather have been on Mintaka, as the navigators chosen from both countries would be the ones who went to space if the full size version ever flew. He cursed inwardly that his particular knowledge of the 46 different types of space propulsion systems, and the history of Orion in particular, made him invaluable in his current rôle.

The 19:40 from Charles de Gaulle would land at 22:00 Eastern Time. He would be expected to report at 07:00 next morning, a short night’s sleep but one that his military background had demanded innumerable times before.

Her eyes were unfathomable. He had expected tears, pleading, bargaining….

=÷=÷=÷=÷=

Regretfully, due to RL pressures on Cutie's time, we had to leave Alan and Viola in Paris before his interrogation in New York about a leak in Europe. Eventually, the UK/US plan for an orbit-launched ENPP system would succeed and Alan would rescue Viola from her captors/minders.