by Lisa Green
The story was inspired by the 'paper-back covers' designed by Ashley Stevens and used here with her kind permission
Warning: Some explicit sexual content.
The pale light of a Washington dawn was filtering through the bedroom curtains when the telephone beside my bed started to purr. Half asleep after a night with too little of it, I groped for and finally found the receiver.
“Marsha?” It was a voice I knew too well and didn't want to hear, “D wants to see you in his office this morning, early.”
The line went dead. I groaned. I was only two days into a promised seven day break after that business in Uzbekistan. Whatever it was, it must be important. The man rolled over and fitted his hard muscular body against my curves, and the temptation to accept the mute offering was almost irresistible - almost, but not quite. Gary knew there would be other times. With a sigh I rolled out of bed and found my way to the bathroom.
The sting of the shower spray drove the cobwebs away, and the fluffy towel dried and warmed my body. I returned to the bedroom. The man had rolled over again and was snoring gently. I pulled out some underwear and stockings, put them on and sat down at the dressing table to do my make-up. Next I stepped into a knee-length grey skirt and buttoned up a white silk blouse, finally stepping into black pumps with three inch heels. Meanwhile I brewed myself a coffee and switched on the news. They were replaying a speech by President Johnson from last night – something about “being vigilant for the 'enemy within'”. I grimaced. He didn't need to tell me about that. I paused to write a brief note for the recumbent figure in the bedroom, picked up my handbag and left the apartment.
Twenty minutes later, and I was surrounded by similarly dressed secretaries, all heading for their offices surrounding Capitol Hill. I was totally like them except in two respects. Firstly, I wasn't a secretary, and I imagined you've guessed the other one.
I reached an unremarkable door at a nondescript building. The sign over it read 'TMA Trading'. There was a light over the door and I knew that concealed within it was a surveillance camera. I pressed the buzzer, and after a short pause the door swung silently open. I entered the building, my heels tapping on the wooden floor as I walked down the corridor. Several of the staff seated at desks smiled at me as I passed by, and one guy called out 'Hey Marsha'. I knew what was on his mind and thought 'When Hell freezes over, Harry.' I reached a large desk where a grey-haired woman sat surrounded by files and telephones. She looked up and smiled.
“He's with someone right now,” she said, and added, “I thought you were on leave?”
“So did I.” I replied.
Then the phone rang, she said a few words and then indicated the big door to her right. I smiled at her and opened the door, stepping into a large office. At one end of the room was a huge oak desk with a man behind it staring fixedly at some files. I took the seat before the desk and crossed my legs, deliberately letting my skirt ride up. I do love teasing men.
He looked up. “Dammit Marsha, if my wife came in right now, I'd be in all sorts of trouble.”
I pulled down the hem of my skirt a trifle and smiled. I've met Dorothy his wife and we get on well. There's no way D would give in to any temptation from someone like me.
“I'm sorry to drag you back. You're supposed to be on leave I know, but you're the best person we have for the job and it can't wait.”
“I guessed it had to be important,” I replied, “So what's the problem sir?”
“One of our top military men was in the Philippines recently. Among other things he developed a taste for the exotic, including (he looked down at his notes) 'bakla'?”
“Ladyboys.” I said helpfully.
“Err, yes. Anyway, one of these, err, ladyboys, called Lee, has provided us with information from time to time, and he reported that something our guy said led him to believe that he was passing on information to the Soviets. Lee was asked to find out more but discretely, and maybe that was a mistake because it seems he's disappeared. Our man was recalled to Washington to make a report – well that was the excuse anyway. He arrived back two days ago. What we really wanted was to keep an eye on him and find out what was going on.”
“I see,” I replied “So you think I might be a suitable person to do that?”
“Exactly,” D replied. “He's staying at the Washington Regent and it seems he'll likely be found in the bar at around 7pm, it's a known pick-up place. I suggest you go there tonight and see what you can find out. Before you leave, go and see Q. He can help you with a few things.”
I had to suppress a smile. The Director has a weakness for James Bond movies, and this was a case of life imitating art I guess.
“This is the file on him – Major Thomas Denman. I suggest you take time to read it now as the file can't leave the building.”
He handed over the file and stood up. The interview was obviously over.
“Good luck,” he said and almost extended his hand to shake mine but looked a trifle confused. He's old school and still can't get his head around some things. I saved him the embarrassment by taking the file with a 'Thank you' and leaving his office. One of the staff once told me that D wondered why I dressed as a woman even when not on assignment. I said it was because I never wanted to forget my special role, but the truth was far more than that of course. I just prefer living this way.
I stepped into the small office I share with another girl, currently away on assignment, and opened the file. There was a picture of Major Denman, a handsome man in his forties. In our business it doesn't matter what the subject looks like, you have a job to do, but it doesn't hurt if he's good looking of course! I read through the whole file and got a fairly good picture of him. A career army guy, he was married with a couple of children and they lived in a small town in Wyoming. When I had absorbed all there was to know about him, I returned the file to D's secretary and went to see Q. I spent a good hour with him and then headed back to my apartment to prepare for the evening. My bedfellow from the previous night was gone, but there was a large bunch of roses and a 'thank you' note. I smiled and put the roses in water. Gary was obviously hoping for a repeat invitation
As always when I had an assignment, I spent hours getting ready. There were times when I wanted the target to think I really was a genetic woman, and even though this wasn't one of them, I still wanted him to find me attractive. I started with a full body shave and then luxuriated in a bath for quite a while before drying myself and laying out my clothes for the evening. This time I chose lacy black lingerie – bra, garter-belt, panties and a full slip, together with sheer black seamed nylons. Like most t-girls, I will never get over the sensuous feeling of slipping on silky lingerie, and slowly drawing nylon stockings up my freshly shave legs, nor do I want to. Some genetic girls have told me that they have no special feeling when they dress in pretty sexy lingerie, and I think that is so sad. As for the choice of black lingerie, there's something about it that always makes a man sit up and take notice!
I set about curling my blonde hair and applying my make-up. I chose my dress for the evening – a pale green silk gown with a full skirt, which showed off my figure to its best advantage. A pearl necklace completed the picture, and I wore four inch heels which matched my dress. I'd checked Tom Denman's height to make sure I was still shorter than him, some men have a thing about that.
I had just finished getting ready when the telephone rang. I was surprised to find it was D himself.
“We've just had news that Lee our contact in the Philippines has been found dead, strangled. Take care Marsha.”
“I will.” I promised.
I was ready in good time for my transport to the hotel. We used what to an observer was a Yellow Cab, but it was driven by one of the staff. He was in radio contact with an agent at the hotel who would notify him when Major Denman entered the bar, and the call came through when we were five minutes from the hotel. I got out and went through the motions of paying the driver, and walked into the lobby. It was quite full of guests all dressed up for an evening out, or dining in one of the hotel's restaurants. I walked into the ground floor bar, and Major Denman was instantly obvious by being the only man present wearing an army uniform. I do like a man in uniform! He was seated at one of the bar stools, and I took a seat about three stools away, and without looking at him I ordered a gin and tonic and sat there for a few minutes. At this point a telephone rang behind the bar and after answering it, the barman looked enquiringly at me and said “Miss Jones?”
“Yes” I replied and he handed me the receiver. Now I can do a very good female voice, but in this instance I was careful to use a more masculine one, and talk loud enough for Major Denman to hear me above the background music and chatter. The substance of my conversation was to indicate that my date was not coming, and I was very disappointed.
“Excuse me? I couldn't help overhearing you. Your dinner companion can't make it?”
I turned slowly and there was the Major trying unsuccessful to look concerned for me. In real life he was even more handsome than his photograph.
I gave a sad resigned smile.
“Yes. Something came up, probably his wife. I guess I'll just have to finish my drink and go home.”
“May I make a suggestion?” he continued, flashing me a devastating smile, “I'm dining alone myself and I would be glad of the company if you would consider it?”
“That's very kind of you,” I replied, keeping up that 'slightly too deep for a woman' voice, “But I couldn't possibly.....”
“It would be my pleasure,” he countered.
“It's very kind of you,” I hesitated, “but I have to tell you – I'm not exactly like most of the women you meet.”
He smiled “I think I know what you mean, although I would never have guessed it from looking at you. You are so feminine and charming.”
I laughed. “You'll make me blush. Well, if you are absolutely sure?”
“I'm sure.” was his response, and inwardly I breathed a sigh of relief. He had taken the bait.
“I'm Tom Denman by the way” he added.
We finished our drinks and walked into the restaurant. It was a great meal, and the major was a delightful companion. We chatted about inconsequential things, and I told him I worked in an office on 'The Hill'. He said little about himself and not much about his military service except that he went on assignment from time to time. He managed to give the impression that his work was confidential without actually saying so.
A trio of musicians arrived after we finished the main course and started to play. There was a postage-stamp sized dance floor and Tom asked me if I'd like to dance. Yes I would, so he took me in his arms and we slowly circled the dance floor. Very slowly he drew me closer to him, and I could feel that he was definitely responding to my charms. I did not pull away and so tacitly acknowledged a mutual attraction.
We returned to our table for desert, and a glass of liqueur. By now we were holding hands over the table, and I was not in the least surprised at his next move.
“I know this sounds kind of corny,” he began “but the view of the city lights from my room on the eighteenth floor is truly amazing.”
I smiled at him “I'd love to see that.”
“I hoped you might.” he said.
We headed to the elevator. When it arrived it was empty, and by the time the trip was half over, our lips were locked together and my body pulled hard against his.
We almost fell through the door of his room, and as soon as it was closed, he pressed me up against the wall and our thighs were grinding together. When we parted lips, gasping for air, I turned around and he grasped the zip of my dress and pulled it down. I stepped out of the dress and laid it over a chair and when I turned back to him, he had already kicked his shoes off and was unbuttoning his shirt. He stared at me standing there in my black slip and gasped “I want you!”
I knew what he wanted, what any man wants. I slid to my knees and I reached for his belt to unfasten it and then unbuttoned his pants. His boxers quickly followed and his manhood was in my hands and quivering. My lips and tongue quickly followed and he moaned with pleasure as did I. I couldn't honestly say it was all acting – he was a very attractive man and a bit larger than average. He certainly wasn't acting, that was all too obvious. His fingers entwined in my hair, and after a while he pulled me to my feet, somehow managed to step out of his pants, and kissing deeply again we found our way to the bedroom. Like every other man I've had, he didn't remove my lingerie, I think they all find it more exciting that way – it maintains the illusion that I'm female – well almost. Every military man is taught to anticipate his next move, and he was no different. He was gone for only a few seconds and then he returned fully prepared. I was lying on my back on the bed. and he towered above me, breathing hard. He lifted my legs over his shoulders and in seconds I felt him slide deep inside me. I clamped my legs around his back as I felt the force of his desire. Our two bodies writhed on the bed as we gave way to animal passion, and I forgot about everything except this man and what we were doing to each other. All too soon I felt his body shuddering as he reached a climax to match my own.
Afterwards we lay together on the bed, hearts racing and breath coming in huge gasps. It is my experience that this is when a man wants to talk. Lying next to his conquest, he feels ten foot tall. I gently stroked his body as I told him that it was the best I'd ever had.
“I'm guessing I'm not your first special girl?” I said.
“Well I've been in the Philippines recently. “ he replied.
“Oh yes, they have some pretty girls there I've heard.”
“Pretty, yes, but not as sexy as you. There was one in particular.....” his voice trailed away.
“Yes?” I prompted. A cloud seemed to pass over his face.
“She asked too many questions,” he said quietly, then changed the subject. “What about you? Have you had many men?”
“It's Washington,” I replied, “Men away from their families. You'd be surprised – congressmen, judges, senior military men. Some seem to think because I'm not genetic, they're not really being unfaithful.”
“Ever have any trouble?”
“Just once,” I replied “He talked a lot – amazing stuff - secrets he shouldn't have told me. I could hardly believe what I was hearing. It went all the way up to the top. Then the next day he rang and threatened me. Some of that stuff could easily bring down the government, so I wrote it all down and left it with a friend. I told her to send it to the newspapers if I ever had an 'accident'. Then I told him. He didn't trouble me again.”
Tom looked at me with a curious expression.
“So if you have an accident, all that stuff goes to the press and the government falls?”
His look was quite frightening now.
“Did it occur to you that it wasn't the smartest thing to tell me that?”
“But you're in the American military,” I protested.
“Yes I am, aren't I?” he replied. Then he sneered “What a little fool you are. That doesn't stop me working for the other side.”
I contrived to look shocked. At that moment there was a knock on the door of the suite and a voice called out “Room service.”
Tom scowled. “I didn't order room service.” The knock was repeated. With a muttered oath he got out of bed and grabbed a robe.
“You stay there!” he ordered. “Don't move and don't make a sound.”
I heard the door open, the shouts and the scuffle. Tom Denman was a strong man, and I barely had time to pull the sheet up over me before his head appeared in the doorway as two other men hauled him back.
“You bitch! You set me up!” he snarled before he was dragged away, still swearing loudly.
'Well I hope you enjoyed yourself tonight,' I thought to myself, 'Where you're going you'll have a lifetime to remember it, that's if they don't send you to the chair.'
Despite my experience, I confess that it had been a bit scary. I was still shaking when a handsome young guy in military uniform appear in the doorway.
“Are you OK?” He looked concerned.
“The Seventh Cavalry! You made it in the nick of time. Thank goodness for the wire transmitter in my bra,” I smiled. I teach karate in my spare time but he didn't need to know that. “Can you give me some privacy please?”
“Oh sure.” He grinned and stood in the doorway with his back to me as I slipped out of the bed and found my panties. I straightened my slip and stepped into my dress, pulling it up.
“Can you help me with the zip please?” Why does it never occur to men that we can manage zips quite well when we are on our own!
I felt his warm breath on my neck as he pulled up with zip, very slowly. I turned to him and smiled and then I staggered slightly. It's the oldest female trick in the book but it never fails. He caught me in strong arms and held me close to him for slightly longer than was strictly necessary, but I made no effort to pull away. Then he carefully guided me to sit down on the bed, sitting beside me with his arm around me. I was shaking, but not for the reason he thought. I'd just had a vision in my mind of how he'd look naked, and I couldn't wait to see if I was right.
“I don't know what came over me,” I said in a trembling voice, “It's the shock I guess. It was getting a bit unnerving before you guys came.”
“I know. I was in the listening post down the corridor until a few seconds before we knocked. I heard everything.”
“Everything?” I turned to him with my eyebrows raised and a half smile. I hoped I was blushing – I felt like I was.
He smiled but didn't reply. Instead he reached into a pocket and pulling out a piece of paper, and wrote down a phone number.
“In case you need some extra debriefing,” he explained. I smiled I as slipped it into my purse and let him lead me out of the room.
'Debriefing huh?' I thought to myself, 'Now that conjures up all sorts of images.'
The day was getting better and better.
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