Harder Than Diamonds

[Steiner]

Andy slowly let his body rise up from Celeste's embrace, testing the joints of his neck, shoulders and arms for injury. Luckily everything seemed to check out, and he quickly spun on her, noticing that by the way she held herself, she too was unharmed.

His face split in a huge grin, and he grabbed hold of her, pulling her in for a rough hug. Though they didn't kiss, an observer would have noticed that their bodies pressed together in the hug from thigh, right up to chest - and neither was in a hurry to step back.

"Celeste... You still have a wicked backhand on you, girl..."

He reluctantly stepped out of the circle of her arms, keeping his left arm around her waist, he guided her towards the other two.

Celeste, meet Miles and Eric. Guys - this is Celeste, a very dear friend of mine."

 

[Snow-Guy]

Eric

"You're nuts aren't you?"

Eric grinned and laughed, then tipped his head to one side and drew his breath in through clenched teeth, producing a sort of whistling hiss.

"Sure, I'm a little crazy, who isn't? But if the cliff is jumpable, it's the safest way down. Plus, it's a hell of a rush." Eric jumped an inch or two into the air, threw his arms and legs out in a starfish and whooped. "Yeah." Eric laughed, from the remembered rush, the anticipation of the next one, but mostly because he enjoyed acting crazy.

"Why don't we go get a drink somewhere. My treat."

"You're a top man mister Bishop, a top man. You'll have to tell me which one the 'any' key is - my computer keeps telling me to press any key, but I can't find the bugger."

Just then, someone jumped on the Rook.

"Ahhh fook" Eric yelled and leapt off to the side. It looked like it was just a jealous ex-girlfriend, or maybe not so ex, and by the time Eric had decided he wasn't going to help, the little scuffle was over.

"Celeste, meet Miles and Eric. Guys - this is Celeste, a very dear friend of mine."

"Aw right love?" Eric nodded at her, looking her up and down quickly, then returning his focus to face height, after all, she was the Rook's bird, and the English bastard seemed to be pretty handy.

 

[penprick]

Reunion

Tatiana stood with her back to him as she watched the speedboat depart. The ocean breeze tugged at her long braid. They hadn't spoken in four years and their last words were anything but pleasant. Her showing up at all was a good sign. Her not leaving with the others was even better. Still, he awaited her response. After all this time, she was so close, yet the space between them seemed so far.

Finally she turned to face him. Her beautiful blue eyes had not changed. The hint of crow's feet beginning to form at the corners and, which for most women would be a signal that their better days had passed, only dignified her further. Simon was captivated by her unwavering grace. Tatiana was as exceptional as ever. She reached out to brush his temple and her soothing touch beckoned.

"Long time... " she whispered ....

He took her free hand and kissed it. Her expression softened and she wrapped her arms around his neck. Simon gently pulled her close, his mouth met hers and they kissed slowly and deeply. The embrace was full, tender and pasionate. Four years of bottled up emotions began to pour forth.

"Far too long, Tatia," he answered. Simon's gaze was more a plea than a demand. He couldn't just take her. She had to offer herself. There was no one else like her. Simon had had enough women during their time apart but there was a vast difference between anonymous sex, and making love as he and Tatia had done in the past. It wasn't her flesh that he craved, it was simply her, to be close to her. Seeing no resistance in her eyes, he reached behind her legs and scooped her up into his arms. He felt the end of her braid swing down and strike his hip as her slender neck arced back in submission, saying without words that she wanted to be taken. Simon carried her into the cabin and kicked the door closed for privacy.

He laid her on the sofa, kissed her irresistable neck and pleasured her breast firmly with his palm. She tugged at his clothes wantingly and they hastily undressed each other. Tatia grabbed his naked hips and urged him between her thighs. Simon entered her exquisiteness. He felt so close to her. She parted wide and he began to thrust. Her eyes were dim with pleasure and her hot breath vented from her open mouth. Simon lowered his lips to kiss her and she lifted her head to meet him, tongue to tongue.

The passion was intense. Simon needed to check his pace and slowed. Tatia's thighs gripped around his hips and her arms swarmed over his back in protest. He resumed stroke and held her tightly. Tatiana sighed sweetly barely above a whisper between gasps.

"Da ... da, da."

Hearing her revert to Russian flooded Simon with desire. He couldn't hold back. Driving deep into her he watched the shake of her hair and lower lip with each jolt. She closed her eyes and let out another longer, more aubible sigh, suddenly becoming quite pliant, then kissed him ravenously. Finally with a shudder, Simon passed the point of no return and within a few strokes his semen pumped into her, the thick essence of his desire coating her insides. Relaxing, he clutched her body tightly and kissed her neck while her trembling fingers traced up and down his back. The fuse of their passion had burned so quickly.

"Tanyechka," he whispered in her ear. "I've never stopped loving you."

Her fingers stopped their tracing.

 

[Miss Behavin']

Celeste

"Hello, Miles and Eric," Celeste said with a smile, wondering which of the two names belonged to the crude one with the primitive accent. On second thought, she really didn't care. Dealing with rudeness was not what she was in Curacao for... she had a few other things in mind.

Pressing her fingers gently into Andy's side, he took the cue and excused both of them. "We're staying on this side in the Otrabanda. If either of you would like a lift, you're more than welcome to share our taxi."

Grateful when both men declined the offer, they turned away with a promise to meet up for drinks in the next day or so. Within minutes, Andy had hailed a cab and they were on their way from the Schottegat toward Langestraat 8 where he'd booked a suite at the Kura Hulanda. Celeste had had her luggage delivered straight from the airport.

"It's so good to see you," Celeste said, turning her body to face Andy, whose eyes were focussed on her mouth. Always one to oblige, her hand slid up his chest to the nape of his neck, pulling him closer for an all too brief kiss that left them both breathless and wanting more.

"The hotel Kura Hulanda," the cabbie announced after clearing his throat.

Andy chuckled, paying the fare while Celeste straightened her clothing, he opened the door and held it for her.

Though they had been to many places around the world over the years, this was their first time in Curacao. Celeste couldn't help looking up at the robin's egg blue facade of the eighteenth century building and its red tile roof, so reminiscent of Amsterdam as she stood. Crossing the cobblestone walkway, their arms slipped easily one around the other, as if not a day had passed since their last meeting, belied only by the electricity crackling between them.

The lobby was luxurious. Furnished with antiques and priceless art, it rivalled the living rooms of many homes she'd been in over the years. "Lovely," she whispered to Andy who was signing them in. "Yes," he winked. "You are."

That made her laugh, wanting him all the more... but there was still the elevator to get past. Just a few more minutes until they would finally be alone.

Once in the suite, the door had barely closed behind them before they were in each other's arms. A medley of lips and hands, legs and bodies; touching, tasting, probing as they hurriedly undressed.

Andy took her there at the door. Lifting her body effortlessly, Celeste's arms entwined around his neck, her legs around his waist, he fumbled between their bodies for a moment, guiding his erection between her legs before thrusting upward into her hot, slick, welcoming wetness.

They groaned their pleasure as with one voice when they joined. Her body buffeted against the door as he drove into her deliberately, ravenously. Celeste engulfed him joyously, her cries of wanton abandonment barely muffled by Andy's mouth over her own.

 

[Steiner]

Celeste always did this to him - each time they met it was as if no time had passed, and yet it was more intense than anything he'd ever known before. His skin had been crawling with tension since he'd smelt her perfume on the dock - since her attack he hadn't stopped touching her for a second, even whilst he'd signed the book downstairs their feet had been touching.

Once through the door he'd thrown the case a good distance, because he knew what was going to happen, just as she did - as they both had since they got in the cab. Now he pushed his hips forward, driving deeply into her, as his mouth drank in her shout of fulfilment.

Andy had long ceased analysing their relationship, what it was "all about" was something he'd probably never work out. What he did know was that they each expended what amounted to a reasonable yearly wage keeping their relationship alive, and that it filled some deep need in both of them.

Which was what he was doing now, as he worked his hips back and forth, his hands tight under her, pulling her body back and forth against him as she worked her legs to grind herself harder down onto him. His fingers dug into the firm curves of her buttocks as he growled deep in his chest and pressed her back against the wall of the rooms entrance, one of her feet striking the door a ringing blow.

With the added support of the wall, Andy was able to make subtle changes to the angle and pace that brought a flush to Celeste's cheeks, to her throat and the upper slopes of her breasts. Both of their motions took on a sense of urgency, of reaching for something and Andy's mouth slipped off Celeste's to fasten onto her neck and shoulder in turn, his small grunts of pleasure coming louder and more forcefully.

 

[Jenn1982]

Alexandra’s pussy tingled all day from the way Gabriel had played with her and she found herself looking increasingly forward to later. He always knew how to keep her on her toes sexually and that was just an added bonus to the job. Alexandra enjoyed her job right from the start and even though she’d found him not only attractive but stirring, sleeping with Jim Gabriel had never really crossed her mind.

Alex had quite a sex drive along with an interesting set of perversions and she had learned early on she needed to be careful who she slept with. She had a hard enough time being taken seriously in her line of work and some men just couldn’t do it if she slept with them so she had learned to use other methods. It wasn’t until that night that Gabriel had inadvertently walked in on her when she was practicing one of these other methods that she realized he was just the kind of person who would have no problems letting her continue to do her job even if he was sleeping with her. From then on they had begun a sexual relationship unlike any she’d ever had before.

Alex made her way through the house and over the grounds as she overlooked all of their security measures as she did everyday. There were a few other things that required her attention and by the time she finished those it was late afternoon. When she’d finished she devoted all her attentions to writing up what needed to be mentioned in the little story Mina was going to let out. The sound of the fax machine whirring to life and as it began to print she finished up the information for Mina. She walked over to the fax machine and looked over the fax. Though the pictures were a bit grainy she could clearly make out the confirmation she needed to go ahead and “stir the fuckers up” as Jim had so eloquently put it. She dialed Mina’s number and as she spoke to her she sifted through the pictures that had been faxed. She knew Gabriel would be pleased as pleased with them as she was and once she hung up with Mina she strode confidently to Jim’s office and knocked sharply. When Jim buzzed her in she laid the photos out on his desk and leaned against the side of the desk as she waited for him to finish on the phone.

 

[Miss Behavin']

Celeste Pittenger & Andy McTeague

One of Celeste's hands slipped down from Andy's shoulder to the small of his back, urging him deeper, closer; knowing that neither of them would last much longer. Her gasps of pleasure became plaintive whimpers, incomprehensible cries of urgency that he well recognized.

Clasping her inner muscles tightly around Andy's erection, she tensed, holding her breath as he thrust harder. Growling ferally, he bit Celeste's slender neck, propelling her over the edge and joining her as her entire body convulsed around him. The visceral spasms of her orgasm pumped his cock as he erupted with a violent shudder, milking him of every drop.

Hearts pounding and breathing ragged, they held each other until the intenseness of the moment began to dissipate, their ardor slaked but far from satiated.

"Hiya," Celeste whispered, lowering her other leg to the floor as Andy slipped out of her body.

"Hiya," he replied with a broad grin.

"Shower?"

He nodded, kissing her gently.

"You first," Celeste smiled, walking ahead to turn the water on for her lover. She would take a bath when he was finished.

The bathroom was spacious, and just as luxurious as the rest of the room. Indian tile covered the floor, and a door led out onto the balcony she'd seen from the main room. Opening it, she stood in the doorway as Andy stepped under the running water in the oversized clawfoot tub. The view was breathtaking. Both views, she thought with a chuckle.

 

[Steiner]

Andy slipped under the water, watching Celeste watch him as he did so. He luxuriated in the way he felt right now, including the way her eyes warmed over as she watched him soap his abdomen.

In truth, Andy's body had plenty of character to it. There was the tight grouping of 9mm holes in his left pectoral - that one had been dangerous. The shotgun wounds to his shoulder and back were less so, but still quite spectacular even after 12 years. There was the burn that was a palmswidth and stretched around his waist, where the Nomex suit had ripped as he'd scrambled from under a fallen beam. His wife had never quite come to terms with some of the damage - it was hard to rationalise away bullet scars as something else. Celeste made no judgements and accepted him as he was - only noticing the supremely good physical shape he was in.

He found himself beginning to stir again and wondered if she felt the same way, stood half on the balcony and half in the bathroom, dividing her attention between him and the gorgeous view. Shaking himself to spray excess water off, he hopped lithely out of the tub and padded across the bathroom toward her, grabbing a hotel robe which he slipped on but didn't belt up. Coming up behind her he stopped just short, letting her feel the heat of his presence behind her, but not actually touching her, just bending over enough to allow his lips to brush the nape of her neck. Slipping his arms around her waist, he drew her back against his damp skin, nuzzling the back of her neck gently.

 

[Drinking Cap]

Miles

Miles stood on the sidewalk staring dumbfoundedly at the spot where the cab had taken off not two seconds ago. Eric stood silently beside him as well.

"Hey Irish?" Miles asked

"Yeah?"

"Did you notice the wedding ring on the Rook's finger?"

"Yeah."

"And you didn't notice one on his, uh, friends finger, did you?" Miles' tone was not one of judgement but one of concern.

"Nope."

Miles nodded his head.

"And, unless my calculations are off, which they never are, right now Tat and Simon are out on the boat, making up for lost time." Miles shook his head as he began walking down the street towards a small cafe he'd seen when he'd arrived at the docks earlier in the morning. As he walked off he began muttering to himself.

"Oh yeah, what possible reason could I have for feeling uneasy about this job? Going up against Jim Gabriel and whatever cadre of psychotic killers he's hired while half of my team is thinking with the wrong head. Yeah, what could possibly go wrong?" People who passed Miles on the street looked at him nervously as his speaking to himself got louder and more agitated. "How do I rate our chances, English? I rate them as about on par with my chances of being the meat in a Olsen twin sandwich."

 

[Snow-Guy]

Eric loped after the Bishop, half listening to his monologue. Eventually the two of them entered the cafe and chose a secluded table.

"Sure, God put the English on his green earth to test the rest of us. They're right eejits, but there's not a lot we can do about it right now.

There are two types of risk in this world, those you can control, and those you can't. You minimize the ones you can, and then either climb or go home based on the ones you can't. You want this too badly to go home, so don't waste energy thinking about things you can't control, you need to work on exchanging protocol thingamijigs or soemthing."

Eric hoped that would end it

"Now, onto more important matters, you said it was your round, and since neither of the English bastards are here, I'll drink theirs for them."

Eric waved the waitress over "Could we get two beers, a Jameson's on the rocks, and whatever my friend is having please."

 

[Drinking Cap]

Miles

"There are two types of risk in this world, those you can control, and those you can't. You minimize the ones you can, and then either climb or go home based on the ones you can't. You want this too badly to go home, so don't waste energy thinking about things you can't control, you need to work on exchanging protocol thingamijigs or soemthing."

Miles raised a finger

"No, it was password authenticated..." Miles thought the better of it "Never mind."

"Now, onto more important matters, you said it was your round, and since neither of the English bastards are here, I'll drink theirs for them."

Eric waved the waitress over "Could we get two beers, a Jameson's on the rocks, and whatever my friend is having please."

Miles nodded. He never drank. He'd had a glass of champagne with his parents after the defense of his Phd thesis but that had been it. He knew what alcohol did to brain cells. But now, in light of what he was facing, Miles couldn't fight it. He felt the urge to drink all of his troubles away. The problem was he didn't know what drinking was about. What should he drink. Beer? But beer seemed so plebian. Scotch? Can you get really drunk on scotch? Miles thought back to something he'd seen in a Cambridge bar. What some fraternity guys had been doing one night seemed like fun. Miles turned and looked up to the pretty waitress.

"And a bottle of Tequila. And salt and limes please."

Five minutes later Miles sat with his head slumped on the table. He was dizzy, he felt invincible and foolish and remarkably free. The level of liquid in the bottle of Tequila would seem to indicate he'd drank two shots.

"And another thing." Miles slurred "Shince when doesh Shimon come up with shuch shtupid code namesh for me? The Bishop? Trusht me, I know Chessh. I've played Kashparov."

Miles thought about that a second.

"Well, not me exactly but I lent my expertishe to a group of programmers designing a computer program to beat Kashparov. And I think I should have been the Knight. My shpecialty is adaptability. I could probably shneak us into the White Houshe."

"Sho, Mr. Knight, what ish your shpecialty?" Miles hiccuped "Drinking?"

 

[Vikingstone]

The Condor

"Yes, well, fuck you and the French you rode in on...if you can prove I have The Conde` then by all means advise the Minister to call Interpol or whatever you think is appropriate," Gabriels' voice began to deepen and increase in volume as he argued with an agent for the French government, a Madame Antoinette du Bois.

Alexandra strolled in, planted her magnificent butt on the edge of Jim's desk and laid a pile of faxed photos on the blotter. Gabriel held up his hand to signal her to hold for a moment. Then without warning he grabbed a handful of Ms Kents' shiny blue-black hair and yanked her down to her knees beside his chair.

"Yes, I realize they consider it a national treasure, yes, yes...and when have you known that sort of sentiment to affect the way I do business?" Gabriel barked into the phone as he dragged Alexandra by the hair until her lovely face was positioned over his crotch. He raised his hips slowly, then suddenly jerked her head down, bouncing her nose off his pelvic bone and making his demand entirely obvious. She hastily untied the sash of his robe and gobbled his swelling penis, revelling in the sweetly musky male scent between his legs. Gabriel stood, and began to hump into her cherry-lipped mouth.

"Alright you old whore, you have my final figure and you know what you can do with it," Gabriel shouted then broke into laughter. He had been dealing with Madame du Bois for many years and they both enjoyed hardball trading. He called her a whore, she called him a "peeg". This time they could not come to a mutually advantageous agreement but parted amicably until the next opportunity arose for them to make some money with each other. "Yes, of course darling, our love to your people as well..."

Ms Kent tapped on Gabriels' sternum to get his attention as he continued to absentmindedly pop his fat, purple cockhead in and out of her epiglottis. Yanking his prick from her throat he pulled her up by her hair and gave her a quizzical, demented look.

"Yes, Alexandra?" he asked through clenched teeth.

She cringed a bit at the psychotic look on his face then struggled to speak through a throat full of sticky spit, "Remember, we're going there next week, see if we can have dinner with them or something," Alexandra coughed quietly and wiped the long strand of drool from her chin.

"Oh yes, yes Ms Kent," Gabriel enthused as he stuffed his fat prick back down her throat, "Antionette, Alexandra has reminded me that we'll be in good ol' Paree all of next week...yes...she'll email...very good...see you then, au revoir."

He clicked the off button on the phone and tossed it onto the desk. He then interlaced his fingers in Alexandras' hair and began to fuck himself into her throat vigorously causing her to gag hard. Her belly convulsed and she fought to keep her gorge from rising.

"Thank you my dear," Gabriel grunted. "I would have forgotten entirely...now what have you brought me, ah...a few little pictures of our friend van Noort and his fuck toy...oh my this is disgusting."

Gabriel increased his pace as he flipped through the photos of the ghastly murder scene. "Oh fuck yes, this IS nasty, possibly a bit much, actually. This kind of mayhem freaks out the public AND the cops...we''ll have to think over future use of this maintenance man...yes...yessss, these are just insane FUCKING pictures!"

Gabriel threw the pictures into the burn pile and grasped Alexandras hair even more tightly as his peak neared, "God, you're such a disgusting fuck pig, Ms Kent, how can I possibly continue to employ a dirty throat whore like you!"

Gabriel widened his stance as his last few pumps forced then withdrew the full length of his cock from Alexandras tortured mouth. Her eyes teared and her nose ran as he finally began to ejaculate, yanking her head and flattening her nose against his pubes. Roaring like an angry silverback, Gabriel spurted into her spasming throat, thrilling as she struggled to breathe. Then pulling back he annoited her red and sweaty face with the last few jerking squirts from his engorged prick.

Pushing her backwards onto the thickly carpeted floor Gabriel collasped into his desk chair and watched as Alexandra caught her breath and regained a bit of composure. He then stood and towered over the trembling girl, "You look like shit Ms Kent, get cleaned up, you nasty cunt, and then we'll finalize our little excursion to the City of Lights."

 

[Snow-Guy]

"Well, not me exactly but I lent my expertishe to a group of programmers designing a computer program to beat Kashparov. And I think I should have been the Knight. My shpecialty is adaptability. I could probably shneak us into the White Houshe."

"You're far too devious and clever to be a knight. We're supposed to be tragically noble figures, rushing into danger to resuce damsels in distress and fighting dragons. You'd be more likely to delete the dragon's identity from government computers and convince him he was a rabbit. Besides, Medieval bishops were right bad bastards, so it's not such a bad code name."

Eric should have known tequila would be trouble. Actually, Eric did know tequila would be trouble. He just didn't think it would be this quick. He gently removed the bottle from Miles' grasp.

"Drinking is one of my specialities, climbing things is another one, I'm also pretty handy with ways of getting through security systems - sure, my ways are a lot cruder than yours, but they usually work."

Eric paused to take a slug of tequila, straight from the bottle - he didn't need any salt to work up a thirst. He grinned as he took an unnecessary bite of lime - it was good tequila.

Eric poured another shot of tequila, expertly rimming the glass with salt before he offered it to Miles. Holding up the bottle in a mocking salute, he advised

"Sure it will do you good to get properly trollyed. Slainte!"

It was clear, even to a rank amatuer like Miles that this was some sort of toast.

 

[MrWolf]

Michael Carmichael

The plane touched down with a solid bump. The excruciating delays that had bogged up in the trip in customs with the constant checks of his cover identity versus lists of known terrorists had slow him down appreciable.

Michael strolled off the steps of the private airport, looking over the drivers sharply, and saw one holding up a sign reading "Randolph". That was the contact name he'd been given.

Carmichael stalked over to the driver, a plain man, unassuming.

"Mr Randolph?" the driver said, looking Michael over.

"Yes," Michael said in a voice only lightly accented with what might have been Irish and might have been South African, "I'm Randolph."

The driver nodded promptly. "A car is waiting to take you to your meeting."

Carmichael didn't waste more time with words. He picked up his duffel bag and followed the driver out, hopping into the back of the plain sedan that waited out front. The driver keyed the engine and the car set off at a reasonable quick pace.

Carmichael laid a hand on the duffel bag. Just clothes. He'd contact a fixer later for weapons if necessary. This trip was all expenses paid and smuggling weapons was too annoying when it was so easy to pick up the needed tools on the fly.

The car pulled up to the destination. Michael stepped out of the car and the driver motioned him towards the building.

"My employer and his chief of security are waiting to meet you sir,"

Carmichael nodded and shouldered his duffel, then strode into the building, dark eyes searching warily.

 

[Drinking Cap]

Miles

"Sure it will do you good to get properly trollyed. Slainte!"

Miles clinked his shot glass against the bottle of Tequila before tossing it back quickly. The pungent taste was still new to him and he winced as the harsh alcohol washed down his throat. It felt like broken glass being pushed down his neck.

"Shmooth" Miles said before taking a bite of the lime slice he had in front of him. He couldn't deny how good this felt. The alcohol seemed to be washing away his nerves. Made him feel at ease with their mission. It also seemed to be making him bolder. He wanted to fuck over Jim Gabriel. More to the point, he wanted Gabriel to know it had been him who'd fucked him over. Even if Simon was going to be getting the Sapphire, Miles wanted at least one picture taken with it. Miles was amazed as he saw the Knight knock the bottle of tequila back, drinking it as if it were water.

This, this is the kind of thing you missed out on, spending 8 hours a day studying. Miles thought with some regret.

"Well, if Shimon and Tat are going to be doing what I think they're doing. I'd shay we have shome time before our mission. So I think we should do something fun, eh Irish?" Miles said with a grin as he drunkenly threw his arm around the Irishman. He had just met the man but already he felt as though he was close friends with the man.

 

[Miss Behavin']

Celeste Pittenger & Andy McTeague

"Unfair." Celeste's feigned protest belied her immediate response to Andy's touch.

"On the contrary," he murmured, his breath hot against her ear as he stopped to nibble, "All's fair... " And with them, it was.

Cupping her breasts, Andy rolled her nipples between his fingers eliciting a libidinous sigh from his lover. Celeste tilted her head backwards onto his shoulder as his hand trailed downward, moving sensuously across her belly. She moaned when his fingers riffled lightly through the exclamation point of hair on her mons before languidly tracing the outline of her cleft.

Her arousal heightened by his, Celeste's body writhed sinuously, luxuriating in the smooth ripple of Andy's muscles as he pressed closer. The heat of his erection jutting hard against her back. The way his fingers explored without delving.

Her heartrate quickened and her breath caught in her throat, emerging in little gasps. Celeste cried out as his fingers parted her, seeking the deeper heat within. "Ohhh... "

 

[Jenn1982]

Alex looked intently up at Jim for a few moments before smiling seductively at him as she wiped the stray drops of cum from her face. Alexandra got up and sashayed out of the office as she licked the cum from her fingers. Once she reached her room she opened the shower door and turned it on. While she waited for the water to warm up she slowly peeled off her clothes, stopping to pinch and tug at her nipples until they were flushed and standing at attention. She stepped inside the shower and let the warm water cascade over her body for a few moments before lathering her hair up with shampoo. She rinsed it out as she blindly reached around for the conditioner. She ran the conditioner through her hair and as she let it work its magic she grabbed a bar of soap and slowly started to run it over her body.

Her nipples were still hard and she soaped them up. As she moved the soap over her taut stomach she kept one hand kneading her soapy breasts. The way Gabriel had fucked her face had left her dripping wet and she couldn’t seem to help herself. Alex ran the soap over her slit, teasing herself with it. When she couldn’t take it anymore she let the bar slide between her lips and pressed it against her clit. She rubbed it over her clit vigorously as she dug her nails into her nipple. She replaced the soap with her fingers and slid it into her already slick hole. She didn’t bother to hide her moans as her orgasm rapidly approached. She leaned back against the shower wall as she rubbed her clit and furiously fucked her pussy with the soap. As she played with herself the scene from Jim’s office fueled her passion and she felt herself lose control. A loud cry erupted from Alexandra’s mouth as she came hard. She sagged against the wall as her breathing returned to normal. She slid the soap from between her legs and set it back on the dish before moving back under the stream of water and finished her shower, washing away all traces of conditioner and soap, inside and out, from her body.

She dried off and put her damp hair in to a tight braid. She snapped the button on her shorts and put her army green tank top back on just as the intercom in her room went off.

“Ms. Kent, yours and Mr. Gabriel’s guest is here.”

Walking over to it she quickly responded, “Wonderful Jackson. I’ll be right there..”

She didn’t bother using the intercom to let Gabriel know of Carmichael’s arrival, knowing Jackson would have already let him know. She walked briskly to the foyer of the house. She had of course heard of him though she had never had the chance to meet him and she was looking forward to it indeed. As Alex turned the corner she saw a tall man with a duffel bag slung over one shoulder and she smiled as she walked confidently towards him.

“It’s nice to finally meet you Mr. Carmichael, I’ve heard quite a bit about you. I’m Alexandra Kent, the Chief of Security. Why don’t you give Jackson here your bag and he’ll take it to your room and you can come with me I’ll let you meet our employer, Jim Gabriel.”

Once Jackson had taken his bag she led the way to Jim’s office. She wasn’t quite sure what to make of Carmichael yet but if half of what she’d heard was true Jim wouldn’t be disappointed. Reaching Jim’s office she opened the door and strode in with a smile.

 

[Steiner]

Andy smiled against the skin of Celeste's neck, coaxing her with his fingers and tingling with the feel of her skin moving over him as she writhed. He ground his hips, the width of his shaft settling into the groove of her spine as he rocked back and forth against her. His fingers dipped and stroked and, finally, felt the wet, clinging, heat of her core engulf his index finger.

He'd been teasing so long, that her sudden throaty gasp of approval was almost explosive, and the way her hips quivered and then thrust down on his finger, convinced him that he'd better not leave her hanging any longer. One hand palmed the smooth curve of her lower stomach, whilst the other cupped her sex, the index and ring fingers pushing slowly deeper into her, the hand rocking her entire mons. He kept the pace deliberately slow, but built it gradually, rocking harder and thrusting deeper, his lips seeking out the soft hollow where her shoulder met her throat.

Biting gently he thrust in deeply, circling his fingers inside her as his thumb sought out the the nub of her clit, rolling it within the hood until it stood proud.

 

[Miss Behavin']

As the movement of Andy's practiced fingers became more persistent, that strong, lovely sensation began to claim her again. Both unable and unwilling to hold back, Celeste stiffened and cried out with unabashed abandon, riding the wild, wonderful waves of her climax.

Trembling violently, she leaned against the door jamb for support, mewling when he stepped back and pulled his fingers from her; gasping as he guided his erection lower, closer; moaning lustfully as he entered her with a deep, hoarse groan of satisfaction, grinding his body into hers.

Celeste met his thrusts and matched them. They moved together in a frenzied fervor, the sounds of their hot, wet, uninhibited joining echoing throughout the room.

 

[Steiner]

He hadn't meant to go any farther than a hug until she'd had her bath - but the truth was that unpredictability was part of Celeste's huge attraction for him. That and the way her body fit his like a glove.

Taking her hips in his hands, he eased himself back and forth inside her, flexing his knees to get a better angle, feeling the penetration deepen sharply. Leaning back slightly he began to thrust with a will, gliding in and out of her, long smooth and forceful strokes that caused him to strike her with his hips before starting the slow, long withdrawal from her.

Andy felt his stomach muscles quiver, then tighten, and he knew that he wouldn't be able to last for very long like this, so he reluctantly withdrew, wanting to prolong the encounter and knowing that a little abstinence now would add spice later. Instead he sank to his knees and used his hands to part her thighs still farther, his tongue chasing up after his fingers until he was gently probing at her from behind, his tongue moving faster and faster, the tip slipping between her swollen lips and sweeping the length of her slit.

 

[Miss Behavin']

Celeste Pittenger & Andy McTeague

A sharp intake of breath preceded the low, prolonged moan of pleasure that came all the way from Celeste's toes when Andy pressed his mouth hard into her slick cleft. "I'll get even... " she purred.

"Mmhmm... "

Trembling as the vibration of his wordless reply disseminated throughout her entire body, Celeste writhed sinuously against her lover's face; crying out as his tongue flicked slowly, torturously over her distended clitoris.

Voicing unintelligible murmurs punctuated by expletives that would make a sailor blush, she spun quickly, grabbing Andy's hair to pull him mouth back to where she needed him most. Celeste loved looking into his eyes when she came, and she was close. So very, very close.

 

[Steiner]

Celeste's quick change of position caught Andy slightly by surprise, but the passion that was burning in the gaze she levelled at him from her new vantage was not - he knew that eye contact did something for her, that it spurred her on. With her fingers buried in his hair, and her hips pressing forward and back in a rhythmic wave, he knew that she was right on the verge...

Keeping his eyes fixed on hers, he swept her clit in slow and light strokes - feeling the shudders in her body as he did so, and slowly increased the pace until his jaw ached from the speed at which his tongue was lashing her.

It was enough - with a shriek that must have carried clear out into the courtyard through the open door, Celeste shook as she reached her peak. For his part, Andy didn't back off, his arms wrapping about her hips and his tongue flickering insistently until she was so sensitive she almost flew apart. Finally he relented, kissing his way up her belly until he could hoist her into his arms and carry her to the large canopied bed that came with the suite. Tossing her onto it, he followed up the chase, half pinning her with his legs and running a gentle hand up her body. Leaning in he kissed her softly but deeply. Celeste's lips had a way of demanding a certain attention to detail - she was never kissed lightly, and Andy applied himself to the task with a will, his tongue tracing the apex of her lower lip.

 

[Snow-Guy]

"Well, if Shimon and Tat are going to be doing what I think they're doing. I'd shay we have shome time before our mission. So I think we should do something fun, eh Irish?"

Eric threw his arm around the Bishop, he had too, otherwise the poor kid would have fallen out of his chair.

"We aren't going to be doing what you think they're doing boyo" Eric said with mock sternness. We have a bottle of tequila to finish off, then we're going to go find the English embassy, and piss on their wall."

He picked up Miles' shot glass and poured him another, not bothering to rim the glass this time, the boy seemed to be learning a proper thirst.

 

[Miss Behavin']

Celeste Pittenger & Andy McTeague

Celeste's arms enfolded Andy as she cradled his body between her thighs. Their lovemaking this time would be slow, she well knew, almost torturously so, though their mutual appetites, one for the other, would be far from surfeit.

Her libidinous moan was muffled as Andy captured her lips beneath his own, his tongue plundering her mouth rapaciously as he had her body only moments before. Celest loved kissing -- devastatingly erotic, intense, explicit come-and-get-me kisses -- that offered a voracious invitation to further pleasures. At this, as he was with most things sensual and not, Andy was an expert, rousing her sybaritic cravings to new heights.

Crushed beneath his weight, her flushed and aching breasts crowded against his chest as he shifted. Insinuating his thigh between her legs with a puissant growl, Andy felt her hot, slick wetness grind against it. "I want... " she mewled.

"I know," he murmured deeply, his mouth on her neck, nibbling, biting, suckling; blazing a trail across her inflamed skin toward their ultra-sensitive, rose-tipped peaks. Celeste watched him slither down her body, her breath shallow and expectant. Arching her back as he cupped a breast, rehaping it and taking a nipple between his teeth, she gasped with delight, weaving her fingers through his hair, her body writhing with undisguised lust.

As much as she wanted to luxuriate in her own pleasure, there was something Celeste wanted even more. Nudging his head up, her eyes bored into his. "I want to taste... you." She smiled, catlike, when Andy acquiesced, pulling her on top of himself as he rolled to one side.

Perched on his belly, Celeste bent forward, her breasts grazing his chest, her hair caressing his skin while taking her time to languorously explore his body with her mouth, her lips, her teeth. She loved the way his muscles rippled and tensed beneath her ravenous lips as she came closer and closer to the object of her desire -- his erection, hard and throbbing beneath the soft curves of her flesh, she continued her glissade downward.

 

[Maid of Marvels]

The King & The Queen

Slipping from between Tatiana's legs, Simon sat back on his heels, the look in his eyes no less hurt than if she had physically slapped him. Unable to bear the accusation that she saw there, Tat turned her head away, tears flowing freely down her face. Why did he have to say those words?? Why??

Simon's trembling fingers traced along her jawline and he sighed, though it seemed an eternity before he moved away. She listened intently, wondering if he would stay or go, but the clink of ice in a glass and the burbling sound of whatever he was pouring told her that he would remain.

She needed to talk. They needed...

Chile had been a fiasco. Everyone blamed everyone else. They should have known better. It would have worked if. They could have... Shoulda. Woulda. Coulda. They'd barely made it out by the skin of their teeth, retreating to London where they could blend in with friends as if they'd never been gone. And at first they did.

Occasional arguments smoothed over by fantastic sex soon blossomed into long drawn-out battles that lasted for hours and ended with Simon storming out. More and more often, Tatiana retreated into a debauched bacchanal of orgiastic bliss from crack that replaced the ones he was now denying her.

Not caring if she lived or died, Tatiana existed only for the next hit off her pipe. She didn't eat. She didn't sleep. She barely breathed. And when he cut off her supply, she left. Thirty pounds lighter, a walking skeleton, only an intervention by some friends postponed her death.

Now here she was, four years later -- clean and sober except for one thing, one person. Simon Randall. Admittedly much of the last few months they were together was a blur, but she'd clung hard to those scraps before trying to bury them forever... unsuccessfully.

Angry and confused by her feelings for him, Tatiana listened as more cubes clinked into a glass and Simon poured another round.

"Simon," she said softly, slipping her legs over the side of the couch as she sat up, her heart wrenching when he stiffened. "Please. We have to talk."

Not bothering to cover herself, Tatiana padded over to where he stood, sliding onto a tall stool beside him. "Look, Simon. I... " Her skin burned where his eyes grazed over it, and she struggled to maintain at least the illusion of composure when she spoke again. "I went through hell after I left."

"Oh, and you think I didn't?" he immediately snapped back.

"Please. Let me finish." She watched as Simon downed his drink, staying his hand when he started to pour another. "I'm clean now, Si. No drugs. No cigarettes. I rarely drink and only socially. I can't fall into the abyss again."

"Are you blaming me?" his voice was low, the hurt resonating in every syllable.

"No, Si. I'm blaming me. I just can't do it again, is all. You were so wrapped up in your wheeling and dealing that you didn't even try to stop me. I love you, Simon. More than drugs. More than the thrill of the game. More than life. But... "

His eyes bored into hers. "But?"

"There's always a but, isn't there? I'll do this job because I want to. But... " Tatiana paused again. "I don't know if I can do... us."