American Girl - Chapter Four

Printer-friendly version
American Girl Edited.jpg

Chapter Four – Crystal’s Demise

Ambassador Hotel and Casino, Las Vegas Nevada, March 1985

Crystal was fuming. She had been so close to getting what she needed from Brett Beaumont and had been thwarted by him, not deliberately, but by his ego and his addictions to booze and gambling. She still had two days left in which to get to the contents of his safe so she would need to use the time wisely.

Liam dresser lay on the bed in his cheap hotel room and looked at his crime wall, his notebook flat on his chest. He looked at the pictures of Crystal Greystone with both lust and resentment. He knew that she was evil. He knew that she was a spy. He wanted to capture her and make her pay for her sins and for him to receive the accolades he deserved for doing so. But he also wanted to possess her. We wanted to get her somewhere where he had complete control over her and make her realise that he loved her and she would fall for him too and beg him to make love to her.

He realised that his fantasies were childish and ridiculous. He knew what the practicalities of the situation dictated. At best he might be able to seduce Crystal and if not he would take what he wanted from her by force but eventually he would have to sacrifice her on the altar of democracy. It was a simple precept: he was good and she was evil. He would win and she would lose.

But first he would play in the grey area between black and white, between good and evil.

He looked at the pictures of Brett Beaumont; the handsome young, rich, brilliant scientist who was constantly forgiven his transgressions because he had a beautiful mind and Liam’s jealousy raged. Liam would make Brett Beaumont pay too. He might have a brilliant mind when it came to science but he was stupid when it came to women and his weaknesses repulsed Liam. He was a womaniser, a boozer and a gambler and he didn’t deserve Crystal Greystone. Liam would make Beaumont pay too when he took Crystal into custody. He would make sure that Beaumont's weaknesses were exposed publicly and no one at Lawrence Livermore Laboratory or the DoE would be able to save him. The current Presidential Administration had no time for men like Beaumont no matter how brilliant they were.

Liam realised the hypocrisy of his thoughts but he never entertained the concept that he might be going insane.

He looked at the pictures of Michelle Dupree. She was as tall as Crystal and had a similar build and she was pretty but she didn’t have Crystal's beauty; at least not in his mind. He knew that Crystal and Michelle had been fucking regularly during Brett’s absence but that didn’t make him jealous. Michelle was a transwoman was not a competitor. In fact the images in his mind of the two transwomen engaged in sexual congress fuelled his desires.

He had linked the pictures of Crystal Greystone and Brett Beaumont with red twine wrapped around stickpins. He also linked pictures of Crystal to Colonel William Spooner and Bronson Bateman with blue twine. Beside those pictures he pinned an article cut out of the Washington Post regarding Senator Palmer blocking the bill appropriating more Stinger missiles for the Mujahedeen rebels in Afghanistan. Beside that he pinned a news article reporting the murder suicide of Bronson Bateman and the whore. He also pinned to the wall an article reporting the suicide of Colonel William Spooner.

To anyone else but Liam the crime wall would appear the work of madman and Liam had kept the do-not-disturb sign on the door since his arrival, taking fresh sheet and towels from the housemaids but denying them access to his room. Studying the crime wall was giving him a headache when suddenly an idea came to him.

He couldn’t approach Crystal directly until he had proof positive of her crimes. He could prove that she was living under a false identity but her defence would be that as a transwoman it was the only she could live her life as a female. The rest was suspicion and conjecture for which he had only circumstantial evidence.

Maybe Michelle Dupree knew more than he thought she did? Maybe he could use her just like he had used Wendy Meakins. The thought intrigued him and the idea of taking Michelle to bed fired his imagination. Pillow talk with her could prove interesting and making love to her might seem like a second prize but it was only a stepping stone to first place and the gold medal: Crystal Greystone.

His cock engorged at the thought of it but tempting as it was he didn’t masturbate. He would save his seed for Michelle Dupree’s tight asshole.

Liam Dresser found Michelle Dupree and Crystal Greystone picking over the breakfast buffet at the Ambassador Hotel. Neither of them were big eaters but they had rehearsals and three shows to get through. They would carb load at breakfast and burn the energy during the day, douching away the detritus before the late show so that they were clean for any nocturnal sexual activity.

Liam was ravenous now that he had a clear objective and washed down eggs, bacon, sausage, hash browns, and pancakes smothered in maple syrup with coffee, sitting in a corner booth well away from the girls but where he had an unobstructed view of them. He followed Crystal to the lobby and watched her make a long phone call from the guest phone booth while Michelle smoked and drank more coffee in the restaurant.

The women were dressed in leotards and dance tights, their hair tied up and their makeup light. They wore sneakers but carried the high heels they would wear onstage to perform. They were joined by a couple of the drag queens who performed in the review who were similarly dressed for rehearsals. Checking out Crystal and Michelle in their leotards and tights had sexually stimulated Liam and he noticed that plenty of the other male patrons threw furtive glances their way.

Crystal finished her phone call and Michelle and the other drag queens extinguished cigarettes and the filed into The Envoy Cabaret and Liam watched through the open door as the choreographer and producer began to walk the girls through the rehearsal, tweaking things here and there and providing the girls with notes about their performances.

Liam left the girls knowing they would be busy right up until after the matinée performance and went to find Brett Beaumont.

Crystal had had a heated phone call with Stephan Boriliski, alias Steven Boland, whose number had been provided to her at the dead drop by her rezidentura colleague who was currently tasked with keeping an eye on Brett Beaumont and his security detail. The number she was given was answered by the operator at the Tropicana Hotel and Casino who put her through to Steven’s room.

Steven told Crystal that that rezidentura was disappointed in her progress. The documents she had copied before Professor Beaumont went out to the Nevada nuclear test site were useful but they needed copies of the documents he carried after the Cottage nuclear test so that Soviet scientists could evaluate the results and determine how far along the American’s were with the development of their Strategic Defense Initiative.

Crystal told Steven that she still had two days in which to get access to the documents and that she would not fail and Steven listened patiently.

“Crystal. You need to know that the Director of the First Chief Directorate of the Committee for State Security himself has directed that Crystal Greystone’s identity is expendable and secondary to the objective,” Steven breathed into the phone.

It was what Crystal feared most. The KGB was willing to ‘burn’ Crystal and extract Kyle Gordon. If they did that there was no guarantee that the rezidentura would create another female identity for Kyle. There were some in the KGB who were not at all happy that the KGB was using a transwoman as an operative when Kyle Gordon could operate efficiently and effectively in his legitimate male persona. Kyle may not be as successful in duping stupid American men, who let their ‘little head’ control their ‘big head’, but it was less distasteful. There were always women who were willing to prostitute themselves for money to undertake such tasks and they were expendable. Why waste a valuable asset like Kyle Gordon dressed as a woman?

“But you know how valuable Crystal is to the cause,” Crystal was tearing up.

It broke her heart to talk about herself in the third person.

“Yes. No one knows better than I Crystal but your identity is less important than the information that is held by Professor Beaumont. If you have to sacrifice Crystal’s identity to achieve the objective do it. Crystal can never be traced back to Kyle Gordon unless she is captured and that is unthinkable and you know what your duty is in the event of imminent apprehension,” Steven said gravely.

“I will carry out my duty sir,” Crystal whispered.

“The FBI and the DoD are still stirred up about what happened to Colonel Spooner in Washington. We think that for now your identity is safe but they may be looking for you. Get this done Crystal. I am here with your rezidentura support to assist you but the weight is on your shoulders,” Seven Boland broke the connection.

Crystal did not perform well during the rehearsal because her mind was on other things and the choreographer and producer wailed on her to get her mind in the game. She cleared her head and when it was time to go and get changed for the first performance of the day she was ready.

Stardust Resort and Casino, Las Vegas Nevada, March 1985

Liam found his feisty bellhop and slipped him a twenty to find out that Brett Beaumont had a late breakfast sent to his room and was yet to emerge. Liam took up his usual position in the Stardust’s lobby and ordered coffee whilst pretending to read the newspaper. Brett Beaumont's security detail sat near the Executive floor elevators looking a little tired, his suit wrinkled. He sipped coffee and tried to stay awake. It had been a long night.

Brett Beaumont emerged from the elevator just before noon looking refreshed and dressed smart in a sharp suit. He nodded at his security man and strode purposely to the gaming rooms where he began to bet heavily on blackjack, drinking bloody Mary’s, tipping the cocktail waitress generously whilst riding a rollercoaster of luck that saw him nearly bottom out then double his initial stake.

Liam hated Brett’s exceptional luck as much as he hated his good looks, flamboyance and wealth.

Brett gambled most of the day away and went back to his room late in the late afternoon and took a nap but first he called The Ambassador Hotel and left a message with the concierge for Crystal advising her that he would come to her late show and rendezvous with her at the meet-and-greet. He arose late, showered and changed into a nice suit and took a car to The Ambassador where he had booked a table in the Envoy Cabaret.

Ambassador Hotel and Casino, Las Vegas Nevada, March 1985

Brett watched Crystal perfume her ‘park and bark’ and was once again enamoured at her performance. Her high kicks in the chorus line made him think of how good it would feel having those long legs wrapped around him while he fucked her. His security detail had left him at the entrance to the Envoy Cabaret but lingered not far away from the door, fully expecting Brett to emerge with Crystal and take her back to his room at the Stardust. This would suit the bodyguard because he could go to his room and finally get a good night’s sleep.

Liam Dresser watched all this from the same table he had sat at the last time he had come to the Boys Will Be Girls Spectacular. There was no doubt that Crystal was the best performer in the review but Michelle Dupree was a close second.

The girls changed out back and came out for the meet-and-greet, Michelle wearing a silver party-dress and Crystal dressed quite the opposite in a stylish tight-fitting burgundy skirt-suit, her legs swathed in black fully-fashioned stockings, her feet shod in matching heels.

Brett moved in on Crystal before anyone else could get close to her and Liam moved in on Michelle.

“Thanks for the autograph Michelle, is there any chance that I can buy you a drink somewhere else?” Liam gave Michelle his best smile.

“Well it is late; where did you have in mind?” Michelle smiled back at him and Liam couldn’t help but compare her to Crystal and decided that she was still not as alluring and beautiful as Crystal but there was no doubt that she was a close second.

He glanced across and saw Brett guiding Crystal across the room towards the exit where his security detail was hovering.

“We could have a drink here in the bar,” Liam said hopefully but he saw Michelle frown.

“I’d invite you back to my hotel but it’s a bit of a dump,” Liam said turning down his mouth.

There was no way that Liam was taking anyone back to his hotel room. They would look at his crime-wall and think him crazy.

“A bottle of champagne can liven up any dump,” Michelle said hopefully.

Michelle was not averse to taking men up to her room but there was something about this guy. Liam was a cute name and he was a handsome, dark-haired and tanned thirty-something who had the gift of the gab but he gave off a vibe. He appeared a little uptight and he kept glancing over towards Crystal. Michelle thought he might be a cop of some kind so she decided to test the waters

“You know it’s a hundred dollars for the night right?” Michelle raised her brows to see how Liam would react.

If he was a cop he had to tell her now otherwise it would be entrapment.

“One hundred dollars to spend an evening with a girl like you is a pittance,” Liam smiled at Michelle.

“Ok. We can go up to my room. Order a bottle of champagne at the bar and we’ll take it up to my room,” Michelle leaned in and kissed Liam’s cheek.

While Liam fought his way to the bar Michelle jostled her way through the thinning crowd to Crystal and Brett who were near the exit engaged in a heated conversation. Crystal wanted Brett to take her to his room at the Stardust, ostensibly to make love but her real purpose was to copy his keycard or gain access to his safe. Brett wanted to gamble for a while at the Ambassador before they went back to his hotel.

“Hey you two; what’s happening?” Michelle could sense the unease.

“We are going to win big here at the Ambassador because I haven't had a chance to play the tables here and they are grist for the mill of the gambling machine that is Professor Brett Beaumont,” Brett chuckled, already well in the bag.

“Ok kids have fun and play safe. I’ve got a nice handsome man buying me champagne to take up to my room,” Michelle tried vainly to make Crystal jealous.

Brett’s eyes roved over Michelle Dupree, taking in her beauty, her long curvy body and her long nylon-sheathed limbs and Crystal noticed.

“Hey did I hear you right when you said that you and Michelle have adjoining rooms?” Brett smirked.

Crystal nodded and made no attempt to disguise her anger.

“Maybe we can fuck in your room tonight and listen in on your girlfriend and her man. I bet the walls are paper thin in a shithole like this,” Brett looked at Crystal and then at Michelle and sniggered.

“Do you have a connecting door?” Brett added when neither woman answered him.

“We do but you won’t be using it,” Crystal said dourly.

Michelle blushed but the idea of Crystal and Brett listening in through the wall while she was making love to a stranger was quite kinky. She could see that Crystal was uncomfortable with Brett's interest in her and his proposal that he and Crystal listen to Michelle fucking in the room next door and she couldn’t help feel a little schadenfreude because she was jealous of Brett taking Crystal away from her,

Crystal dug Brett in the ribs and led him away to the casino, his security detail tagging along at a respectable distance.

Liam returned from the bar with the champagne just as Crystal and Brett were leaving the cabaret.

“Is she your friend?” Liam nodded at Crystal’s back receding down the corridor.

“Well yeah. We’re both in the review but we are also friends I guess,” Michelle replied.

“That guy she’s with seems like a bit of a dick,” Liam ventured.

“Not the half of it. Never mind those two let’s go up to my room and get comfortable,” Michelle put her arm through Liam’s and led him towards the lobby.

Michelle allowed Liam to kiss her in the elevator and she held his hand and led him to her room.

Liam was looking forward to enjoying the delights of Michelle’s body. She was wearing a sequined silver sheath-dress with spaghetti straps that was outrageously short; her perky cleavage and long legs displayed to perfection. Her legs were sheathed in shimmering flesh-toned pantyhose and Liam was amazed that she could walk in her heels because they were so high.

They stopped outside Michelle’s room for a long languid kiss which Liam enjoyed immensely but he was acutely aware that Crystal Greystone’s room was right there next to Michelle’s. That was the room he would really like to be going into. That said, the girl he was holding in his arms was beautiful and exotic.

Her breasts pressed into his chest, her lips were soft, her breath was sweet and her perfume was divine. She wrapped herself around him sensuously and slinky like a cat. His hand went to her thigh and stroked her toned flesh, delighting in the feel of her diaphanous nylons on his fingertips.

Michelle was taken by the handsome man. He was good kisser and she felt safe and comfortable in his arms. She could feel his hard, muscled body through his suit and his even harder appendage pressing on her belly.

She opened the door to her room and they sidled inside, still embracing each other. Liam kicked the door closed, put down the bottle of champagne, and guided Michelle to the bed, his lips still pressed to hers, his hands on her buttocks. He lifted her up and lay her on the bed and looked down at her in the lamplight.

She smiled up at him for an instant Liam imagined that it was Crystal Greystone but he shook away the image and concentrated on giving Michelle the attention she deserved.

He climbed on the bed and kissed her and she slowly undressed him and when he was naked she admired his tanned, toned fit body. Liam hadn't given himself much time off during his stay in Las Vegas but when he had he’d spent it in the gym and swimming laps in the hotel pool and lazing in the sun. He stood up to remove the last of clothes and gazed down at her.

“You are a beautiful young woman,” Liam smiled down at Michelle who blushed with embarrassment.

It was nice to be with a handsome man who appreciated her. Most of the men who paid for her services were older and they pawed at her and slobbered over her, rutting her like an animal and leaving as soon as they were spent. They often treated her cruelly but Michelle needed the money so she endured it.

“You’re quite handsome yourself,” Michelle smiled up at Liam and waggled her fingers at him.

He joined her on the bed, looming over her, his long thick cock sticking out proud and needful.

“Let me take off my dress,” Michelle whispered.

“No,” Liam whispered and smiled at her and lay down on top of her and Michelle giggled in his ear.

Her voice was both seductive and girlish and Liam’s ardour burgeoned.

He pressed his body to hers and kissed her and Michelle wrapped her arms around him and sighed into his mouth. His cock was pressing into her belly and her own cock was becoming tumescent and uncomfortable, lying along her perineum. Because the dress was so short and revealing she had tucked and taped and was now paying the price.

Liam was able to free Michelle’s breasts without taking off her dress or her brassiere and he stroked her milky globes and tweaked her nipples. Her breasts felt firm, but yielding. He knew that they were enhanced by silicone but he didn’t care; they were magnificent and he lowered his face to them.

Michelle guided his leonine head from breast to breast and he alternated sucking and nibbling her nipples which were pliant and succulent, her areola dark pink against her alabaster skin. Michelle felt ripples of delight radiating from her teats as Liam attended to them and she moaned and reached for him, finding him hard and his glans wet with pre-ejaculate.

“Now you can take your dress off,” Liam whispered and Michelle spanked his bottom playfully.

Liam rolled off her and lifted the hem of the dress along her body and pulled the dress over her head and dropped it on the floor. Her brassiere followed.

Michelle looked stunning lying on the bed in full makeup, her hair tousled by their foreplay, her long slim body with creamy white flesh, the globes of her bosom rising as she breathed, her long legs clad in shimming sheer pantyhose, white satin bikini-panties covering her pubis.

She gazed up at him, sucking a fingertip seductively.

Liam reached his hand under the waistband of her pantyhose and pushed his fingers into her groin.

“Ouch!” Michelle yelped when Liam ripped away her tucking tape and exposed her semi-rigid penis.

“I’m sorry,” Liam leaned down and kissed her.

“No you're not,” she said sulkily but she put her arms around his neck and returned his kisses.

“Not now,” Liam sniggered as he prised her penis from between her legs and felt her scrotum fill as she lowered her testes from inside her inguinal canals.

“Oh my god!” Michelle sighed as Liam caressed her erection through her slinky pantyhose and panties.

“Feels nice huh?” Liam smirked and kissed her again.

Michelle reached for Liam’s cock and pressed it against hers and wrapped her arms around him and her legs around his waist. Liam pressed his body against Michelle’s delighting in the feel of her breasts on his chest, her soft flesh against his, the bulge of her erection rubbing on his through layers of nylons, lycra and satin.

They frotted and kissed and rolled on the bed, both of them releasing pre-cum, Michelle’s panties becoming wet with it. Liam drove his tongue into her mouth and Michelle reciprocated and they kissed and cuddled until Michelle pushed Liam off her and lay on the bed gasping.

“You nearly made me come,” she giggled and Liam smiled down at her.

She reached out and snagged a driblet of clear viscous pre-ejaculate and brought it to her lips, smiling cheekily up at Liam.

“How does it taste?” he grinned down at her.

“I’ll let you know,” she said breathily and lifted her head off the pillows and took Lima’s cock into her mouth.

Liam growled as Michelle suckled his penis. He looked down as her red-lipsticked lips closed around his shaft and she moved her mouth up and down on him, using her tongue to tickle his fraenulum. He reached for her cock and freed it from her pantyhose and panties and began to stroke it, milking globules of sliver pre-cum from the eye which he used to lubricate the shaft.

Her mouth was so warm and wet and he felt his cock quiver as Michelle elicited ringlets of intense pleasure from his phallus, her hand softly cupped his scrotum, gently stroking and squeezing it.

Liam spun around to that they were lying anatomically inverted so that each could suckle the other’s genitals. In the classic sixty-nine position Liam was able to slide his tongue along the shaft of Michelle’s penis, then he engulfed her glans and sucked and nibble the pink spongy flesh, causing her to buck underneath him as her passion mounted.

Her muffled groans were stifled by Liam’s thick, tumescent cock which she sucked and slavered in turn. Liam stroked Michelle’s thighs. Delighting in the sensation of her silky pantyhose on his fingers which ignited fresh fervours of rapture in Michelle as the gossamer fabric caressed her tender flesh.

Liam felt himself approaching extremis and Michelle was not far away either and they both sensed it. Michelle opened her legs wide as Liam sprang from her body and turned over to face her. He lowered his face to hers and kissed her as his hand slid along her flat stomach and inside her panties and tore a hole in her pantyhose adjacent to her sphincter.

She arched her back to accommodate Liam as he mounted her and eased aside the gusset of her panties so that his cock could slip into the hole he had made in her pantyhose and align itself with her sphincter.

Michelle was prepared for sex and had already lubricated her anus, her sphincter was wet with Liam’s spittle from their oral encounters and it yielded to his steely rod as he slowly thrust himself inside her. Their lip were locked together and they grunted and moaned into each other’s mouths as Liam pushed his cock deep inside Michelle’s anus, her legs wrapping around him, her silky pantyhose sliding along his flanks, her heels gouging his flesh encouraging him to fuck her.

He pounded Michelle into the bed and she writhed and wriggled underneath him as his cock battered her anus. The shaft wrested freshets of delight from her tight sphincter and his glans pressed on her prostate causing her cock to release a continual dribble of pre-seminal fluid.

Liam was engrossed by the feel of her tight, pliant anus as it encompassed his penis, squeezing it softly like a handmaid milking a teat. He pushed his cock all the way inside Michelle and growled as he ejaculated and flooded her back passage with his issue.

Michelle felt Liam come deep inside her and her own penis erupted and her panties were suddenly drenched with her spend.

They clung to each other, Michelle’s legs scissoring against Liam’s flanks, her nails raking his back, their screams of lust stifled by their kisses as they writhed and rolled around on the sex-sodden sheets.

Liam rolled onto his back, Michelle still impaled on his engorged shaft and Michelle threw back her head and moaned like a slattern, driblets of her issue trickling into her saturated panties. Liam reached out and squeezed the last globules of her spunk as the very last of his ejaculate oozed into Michelle’s tight anus.

Tight Michelle’s anus might be but when she dismounted, a flood of Liam’s semen dribbled from her sphincter and soaked into her panties and pantyhose.

“I’m going to shower and change my underwear,” Michelle whispered. A little embarrassed by her appearance and the way she had behaved like a wanton whore.

“You are not! Come here you minx,” Liam’s hand shot out and he grabbed her wrist and pulled her back on the bed.

She giggled and he laughed and they rolled around on the bed oblivious to the semen clinging to their flesh and soaking into the sheets.

Downstairs in the gaming rooms Brett was gambling heavy, riding his luck like a rollercoaster and he was drinking heavy too. Crystal decided to change tactics. If she could get Brett drunk enough to pass out in her room she could copy his keycard and access his room at the Stardust while he was out. This was less dangerous than trying to copy the documents in his safe while he slept. If she was successful she could possibly keep Crystal’s identity. If she was found rifling his safe or if she drugged him or worse if she had to kill him her identity would be burnt.

She encouraged Brett to bet, clinging to him, kissing him when he won and kissing him when he lost. She made sure the cocktail waitress brought them both a steady supply of gin and tonics; Brett’s ‘gambling drink’. She’d tipped the waitress a fifty to provide Brett with doubles whilst her own drinks were tonic water without the gin. The waitress had no qualms helping a girl work a mark. This was Las Vegas and it was eat or be eaten.

By four in the morning Brett was unsteady on his feet although he was far from passing out. As usual his luck had held up and he tripled his initial stake. Crystal was aware that Brett’s security detail was getting agitated and he looked relieved when Brett had drunk and gambled enough and they left the casino to go up to Crystal's room.

As they were not going back to the Stardust where the bodyguard had a room across the hall from Brett, he would have to stay close and he was not happy that he would have to park his ass in a chair at the end of the corridor where he could keep an eye on Crystal’s room.

Neither Brett nor Crystal could give a flying fuck about the minder’s uncomfortableness. Brett wanted to fuck Crystal and Crystal wanted Brett’s keycard.

Brett was drunk but exhilarated by his winning streak and keen to fuck. Crystal was keen to let him fuck her and expend the last of his energy so that he might sleep afterwards and she could take his keycard from his pants and copy it.

Despite being pissed at him Crystal became immediately aroused as the Brett embraced her; his tongue explored her mouth and she reciprocated. Even though Brett had behaved like a spoiled asshole all evening, his good looks and muscular body were enticing and she might as well enjoy him for what she believed would be the last time.

She wrapped her arms around him and her fingers dug into the hard flesh of his shoulders. She lifted one leg and locked it around his calf; moulding herself to his body.

It was not only the flesh of Brett's body that was hard; she could feel his manhood, thick, long, and hard as steel pressing against her. She complied when Brett began to ease her towards the bed.

Brett unclenched her arms from around him and pushed Crystal down on the bed. She lay on the threadbare coverlet, her legs spread as far as her tight skirt would allow. Brett gazed at her beautiful face and then his eyes began a journey down her body, tight satin blouse clinging to her flat chest, trim waist and flat stomach and those lovely long legs sheathed in gauzy French stockings. The split in her skirt displayed one of her legs all the way to the top of her thigh.

"Magnificent," Brett gasped and ripped off his clothes.

Crystal watched Brett undress; his body tanned, tight and muscled. When he dropped his briefs she was one again impressed by the heft of his manhood; it was large in both girth and length. A filament of clear pre-ejaculate oozed from his glans and the appendage appeared to her to be palpitating.

Crystal struggled out of her jacket and was attempting to unbutton her blouse when Brett fell on her and began to ravish her.

"Don't worry about the suit; I'll buy you all the clothes you want with my winnings," he growled as he crushed his mouth to hers and tore open her blouse.

He entwined his fingers in the clasp of her brassiere and opened it roughly to reveal her meagre breasts. Crystal gasped, Brett was being quite rough with her and she kinda liked it.

Brett was straddled Crystal, kissing her almost viciously. His big hands pawed at her tiny breasts, tweaking her nipples and Crystal gasped into Brett's mouth; she had not seen him behave like this before and she quite liked it.

Brett's lips fell to her breast and he nipped at her teats as they hardened. Crystal squealed and stroked his leonine head, encouraging him to suckle her nipples. Crystal moaned like a whore as Brett lay on top of her, pressing his huge cock against her belly as he sucked and nibbled her nipples.

Brett moved his mouth from her breasts and returned his lips to hers, kissing her passionately, rubbing his cock on her flat stomach. Crystal began to writhe and moan underneath the big man.

Brett pushed himself up and extricated himself from Crystal's grasp. He flipped her over and tore off her skirt, renting it in two along the pleat. He tore off the remains Crystal's blouse leaving her dressed only in panties, stockings and heels.

He flipped her over again so that she was on her back facing him. They were both panting with exertion and lust and Crystal reached up to him, beseeching him to come into her arms, which he did. He fell on her and Crystal lifted her legs and wrapped them around his torso.

They kissed and pawed at each other, Crystal bit his lip and drew blood and Brett raked her milky white thighs, scratching her soft creamy flesh. Crystal lifted her groin off the bed, pressing her panty-clad crotch against his hard cock.

Crystal's panties were torn from her body and with it her tuck. Her penis was erect and leaking pre-ejaculate.

"Fuck me you animal," Crystal growled and bit Brett's earlobe.

Brett lifted Crystal's legs and opened them wide; he put her ankles over his shoulders so that Crystal lay under him, her buttocks raised. He kissed her nylon-encased ankles, nipping at the flesh and Crystal reached for his manhood, she bucked under him, pressing his penis into her puckered bud.

"Please fuck me!" Crystal pleaded, batting her eyelashes at him like a slattern.

Brett impaled Crystal with one thrust and Crystal groaned as it felt like she was being split open.

Crystal pulled his face to hers; she was moaning with pain and pleasure. Brett's cock was a burning poker inside her tight rectum but underneath the pain, an intense sensuality and desire was building. Crystal wrapped her arms around Brett's neck and kissed him deeply and intensely. Crystal began to fuck him; lifting herself up off the bed, grinding her buttocks to intensify their pleasure. His huge cock was triggering the pleasure centres in the nerves ringing her sphincter and pressing delightfully on her prostate.

Brett began to fuck the beautiful transwoman lying beneath him impaled on his phallus. Her tight passage had been pre-lubricated, and now the rivulet of precum leaking from Brett's cock commingled with the lubricant greasing Crystal's back passage. He was able to fuck Crystal with long slow strokes as she lay beneath him, writhing with pleasure and raising her buttocks to meet his thrusts.

Her tight anus gripped his cock and Brett could feel her internal muscles squeezing and milking his pulsating phallus. Crystal groaned and howled, hanging onto Brett with her arms around his neck and her heels around his flank; she rutted like a harlot as Brett's cock elicited waves of pleasure from deep in her rectum.

They both screamed when they climaxed; Brett thrust himself inside Crystal as deep as he could; his scrotum resting in the crease of her buttocks as his penis convulsed and ejaculated his hot seed deep inside her.

Crystal felt him discharge his semen inside her and it triggered her own orgasm; her anus undulated and contracted, milking Brett of his spend as she herself spent against him; her secretions smearing on his tight belly as he drove his cock deep inside her. They kissed, pawed and raked at each other as they climaxed; their shrieks and groans reverberating around the room and echoing through the walls.

When they finally finished rutting they were both bathed in sweat as they lay panting, Brett lay exhausted on top of Crystal, she gasped for breath as Brett's semen dribbled from her sphincter, his cock slowly deflating inside her.

When they had recovered enough to catch their breath Crystal languidly placed her arms around Brett's neck and he lowered his lips to hers. Their kisses were tender, soft and loving now that their lust was sated.

Brett rolled off Crystal and staggered to the shower, still drunk and exhausted after their torrid lovemaking.

Crystal leapt from the bed and rummaged around in Brett’s pants until she found his hotel room keycard. She punched the combination into her room safe and took out the card reader.

She pushed the keycard into the slot waiting for the little red diode to turn green, anxiously watching the bathroom door just like she had before in Brett’s room at the Stardust. The diode turned green and Crystal extracted the copy just as her worst nightmare became a reality when Brett suddenly came out of the bathroom.

“Hey I was thinking we might get room service… what the fuck!” Brett's eye’s narrowed as he realised what Crystal was doing.

They screamed at each other and Crystal tried to make a break for the door, knocking over furniture as Brett lunged for her. Crystal wasn’t fast enough to escape his clutches. He dragged her to the bed and forced her down on it, his anger inducing almost superhuman strength. Crystal tried to beat him and force his hands away from her throat but she couldn’t match his strength.

She began to choke and her vision was narrowing as she neared unconsciousness. She worked her tongue in the back of her mouth trying to release the cap on her molar. Underneath was a cyanide capsule that would bring about her death. Being taken alive was unthinkable and unforgiveable.

*****

In the room next door Liam and Michelle lay awake listening to Brett and Crystal going at it. Brett’s assumption that the walls were paper thin on the floor where Crystal and Michelle were staying was a fact.

Liam's jealousy burned but he couldn’t help but becoming concupiscent as he listened to Crystal being fucked by Brett Beaumont, the sounds coming through the wall inspired pornographic scenes in his head.

Michelle saw the sheet tent above Liam’s groin and she grinned, she too was becoming turned on by the sex sounds coming from the adjoining room. She snaked her hand down Liam’s body and circled her fingers lightly around his long, thick appendage.

Liam turned to her and kissed her in the dark, imagining that it was Crystal’s lips he was kissing.

Michelle’s anus was still full of Liam’s last load and she slid herself under his body, eased the gusset of her panties aside and guided his engorged manhood to her puckered bud knowing that no lubricant would be required. Her panties were sodden with cum, the front of them soaked with her own juices and the seat damp with Liam’s. The room reeked of sex. The sounds coming from the adjoining room added to the piquancy of debauchery.

Liam slid his cock into Michelle and pressed his mouth to hers to stifle her moans. He wanted to listen to Crystal moaning like a slattern and whimpering like a whore through the bedroom wall. He imagined it was Crystal he was fucking when Michelle locked her stocking-sheathed legs around his waist and bucked underneath him.

Liam timed his thrust with the gasps he heard coming through the wall, Michelle’s tight anus substituting for Crystal’s. Michelle mewed and bucked beneath him as Liam slammed his cock in and out of her snug channel, his lust fired by jealousy and anger. Michelle was oblivious to that and although she could hear Crystal whimpering and Brett grunting as they fucked next door and it heightened her lust, she was concentrating on enjoying the long thick cock that was jackhammering her anus and wringing forth delightful feelings as Liam Dresser skewered her sphincter and pounded her prostate.

Michelle released into her panties, her orgasm creeping up on her and overwhelming her. She clung to Liam as he buggered her, her rigid cock spewing forth her steaming issue.

Liam felt Michelle orgasm, she shuddered beneath him, her anus palpitating, squeezing and releasing his cock, her sodden panties becoming warm and wetter as her creamy seed soaked through them and smeared her slithery spunk on his hard belly. Her legs scissored around his waist, encouraging him; the soft silky nylon caressing his flesh.

But Liam waited until he heard Crystal cry out in the adjoining room. Brett’s moans joined hers but Liam somehow filtered them out, all he could hear was Crystal’s moaning and whimpering as she came.

A wave of intense jealousy washed over Liam as he pounded his cock harder and faster into Michelle’s tight anus. In his mind he was revenge fucking Crystal but it was Michelle who was taking the brunt of his frenzied fucking. She clung to him as his cock battered her ass, his mouth mashed her lips and his tongue lashed her mouth. She could feel his tears falling on her face and taste his stifled sobs.

Michelle mistook Liam’s tears as a sign that he was besotted with her, unaware that he was crying because of his longing for Crystal.

Michelle felt Liam’s cock well up to full tumescence and then he ejaculated deep inside her, depositing a steaming sea of hot glutinous sperm in her ass. He was shaking with the intensity of the orgasm and it triggered Michelle’s second orgasm which was more anal than penile. Warm rings of pleasure radiated from her prostate and sphincter whilst her cock could only produce a dribble of ejaculate but it was lovely all the same.

When Liam descended from his tumultuous climax he lay on top of Michelle shuddering, stifling his sobs. She stroked his back and whispered endearments in his ear and eventually Liam rolled off her and lay beside her.

In the dark silence they listened to Liam and Crystal through the wall. There was a muffled conversation, after-sex pillow talk; Brett’s deep booming utterances contrasting with Crystal’s husky and sensual voice. Brett's voice faded and they heard a shower running, the pipes hammering in the wall because of the cheap plumbing.

Then there was silence.

Suddenly there was a cacophony of voices, loud and accusatory. Brett was screaming at Crystal and she was screeching back at him. The sounds of a violent struggle reverberated through the wall accompanied by the clatter of furniture being overturned.

Liam reacted instinctively, his actions driven by his love for Crystal, his hatred for Brett Beaumont and his jealousy. He raced to his jacket and pulled out his service weapon, then he kicked open the door adjoining the two rooms and saw that Brett Beaumont had Crystal Greystone by the throat.

Liam shot Brett Beaumont twice and turned to the main doorway just as Brett Beaumont’s bodyguard burst through it, pistol in hand. Liam shot the bodyguard twice but sustained a wound to his neck.

Michelle had followed Liam through the door and stood there dazed and confused, paralysed with shock. Brett Beaumont lay dead, slumped on the bed, his minder lay dead in the doorway; the room reeked of gunsmoke and blood. Liam Dresser fell to the floor clutching his neck, freshets of blood spurting through his fingers. Crystal scrambled over to check on Liam Dresser who was clutching his throat and writhing in agony on the floor.

Steven Boland entered the room, stepped over the bodyguard’s corpse, picked up the guard’s pistol and shot Liam in the head. The last thing Liam Dresser saw before he died was Crystal Greystone’s shocked face lingering over him like an angel.

Michelle Dupree was too shocked to scream and she didn’t feel a thing when Steven Boland put two bullets in her head.

“What the fuck happened Crystal?” Steven asked as he pulled the minder’s body inside the room and closed the door.

“He came out of the shower and saw me with the card reader. He went berserk. I couldn’t put him down and he was strangling me,” Crystal worked hard at controlling her anguish.

“Where did you come from?” she whispered.

“I have been tailing you. The rezidentura insisted that I do everything in my power to ensure that you get copies of the Cottage test results,” Steven explained as wiped his fingerprints off the pistol and put it back in the bodyguard’s hand.

“We don’t have much time. The gunshots will keep the looky-loos in their hotel rooms with their doors locked but the Las Vegas Metropolitan Police Department will be on their way. Get dressed and leave everything behind except for your field-craft accoutrements,” Steven looked anxiously around the room, making decisions on the fly.

Crystal cleared out her safe, taking her onetime pads, her safe-codebreaker and her Minox camera tossing them all into a large carryall along with her makeup kit and her purse. She dressed hastily in unassuming street clothes: skirt, blouse, pantyhose, panties and low heels.

Steven picked up the copy of Brett’s hotel room keycard that Crystal had made and waved it at her.

“Here, you know what to do with this,” he held it up and Crystal snatched it.

Crystal ran down the corridor to the stairwell. Some of the doors opened a crack and the occupants peered out but they were too scared to come out of their rooms. She ran down the stairs and took a deep breath before opening the door to the lobby. Confusion reigned and the hotel security people and reception staff were trying to guide panicking guests and gamblers out of the hotel in an orderly fashion.

Crystal joined the crowd and was swept out through the door past reception and into the street. She strode carefully but confidently away from the Ambassador Hotel and Casino and four blocks away, where things were normal, she hailed a cab to the Stardust Resort.

Crystal was able to take the elevator to Brett Beaumont’s room, open his safe and photograph the contents of the Cottage file without being disturbed. She took the elevator down to the lobby and walked two blocks south where she called her rezidentura support. The agent picked up Crystal and took her back to his hotel where she handed over the Minox, scrubbed off her makeup, washed and dried her hair and changed into a lightweight men’s suit.

Crystal Greystone ceased to exist at that exact moment in time.

Kyle Gordon checked that he his identity documents were in order and took a car to the airport where he flew back to Washington on the next available flight.

Ambassador Hotel and Casino, Las Vegas Nevada, March 1985

Detective Sergeant Keith Johnston of the LVMPD met with Special Agent Nigel Harris of the FBI at the crime scene tape blocking access to Crystal Greystone’s hotel room at the Ambassador Hotel

The hotel room was a bloodbath.

“Well this looks like a shit sandwich,” Keith Johnson sighed, looking bluntly at Nigel Harris.

They looked at the four dead bodies and shook their heads.

“Do we know who they are?” Nigel Harris called out to lead CSI investigator.

They stepped into the hotel room avoiding the crime scene investigators as much as possible. One of the CSI’s handed Detective Johnson Brett Beaumont and Michelle Dupree’s driver’s licences then handed Agent Harris Liam Dressers FBI identification wallet containing his badge and ID card.

“He’s one of yours?” Johnson pointed his foot at Liam Dresser’s body.

“I knew him. Came into the field office giving me some cockamamie story about being on vacation but he had received a tip regarding a case he was working on. I should have smelled something was wrong but we’re old buddies to I let him use my office,” Harris admitted.

“I’m sure you guys with all your gadgets and gizmos will be able to find out exactly what he was looking for?” Johnson quipped and Harris nodded.

“Two guns; four bodies. That piece is Dresser’s service weapon. I’m guessing the dead guy near the door was carrying the other weapon,” Harris commented.

“Tranny could be hooker. You guys find any drugs?” Johnson called out to the senior CSI tech.

“The Beaumont guy was carrying a baggie of cocaine. Didn’t find anything else. We haven’t processed the transwoman’s room yet,” the tech answered.

“This room was occupied by a Miss Crystal Greystone. She works the review downstairs in the Envoy Lounge. So does Ms Dupree over there. LVMPD officers are holding Fred Winebrow, the casino manager and entertainment director, in his office. You’re going to want to talk to him,” The CSI tech added.

Detective Sergeant Keith Johnston and Special Agent Nigel Harris worked the crime together, processing the scene, interviewing witnesses and following leads.

Michelle Dupree had been found lying on the floor dressed only in pink semen-soaked satin panties, tan pantyhose and a transparent black chemise that she had hastily donned before going through the door adjoining her room to Crystal’s. She had sustained two gunshot wounds to the head. Credentials found in her room confirmed that body of the transgender female was Michelle Dupree. Later at the morgue Fred Winebrow was shown the body and agreed that it was Michelle Dupree.

Michelle’s mother and father refused to make the journey to formally identify the body. To them their son had ceased to exist when he told them that he was woman trapped in a man’s body and they absolutely refused to acknowledge the existence of Michelle Dupree.

Brett Beaumont’s body was easily identifiable as was Special Agent Liam Dresser. The third body took a little while to be identified.

The third man found dead at the scene was identified as Frank Mitchell, a retired US Marshal working for a protective security and private investigation service based in Los Angeles California hired by the Lawrence Livermore Laboratory to protect Professor Brett Beaumont.

Bullets extracted from the Brett Beaumont and Frank Mitchell matched the weapon issued to Special Agent Liam Dresser by the FBI. Liam Dresser and Michelle Dupree had been shot by the weapon owned by Frank Mitchell who had held a legal conceal and carry permit.

In both hotel rooms there was evidence of vigorous sexual activity in the beds. Semen belonging to Liam Dresser was found on Michelle Dupree’s bed linen, on her body and in her anus. Her semen was also abundant. Beaumont’s semen was found on Crystal Greystone’s undergarments, left behind at the scene and what was believed to be her semen was found on Brett Beaumont’s torso.

“It’s like a fucking orgy took place in these rooms!” one of the CSI’s was said to have exclaimed whilst processing the scene.

DNA matching was a long and costly process and the Las Vegas Metropolitan Police Department and the FBI were more than confident that the bodies were identified sufficiently and correctly enough to preclude its use.

FBI Field Office, Lake Mead Boulevard Las Vegas Nevada, April 1985

Based on the crime scene presentation, accounts given by third parties and the evidence found in Liam Dresser’s hotel room, the LVMPD and the FBI had a workable hypothesis as to what had happened. The Deputy Chief of the LVMPD and the Special Agent in Charge of the FBI’s Las Vegas Field office sat around a table in a soundproof room and listened to what Detective Sergeant Keith Johnston and Special Agent Nigel Harris had to say. They told their story to an audience who were at first shocked and astounded and then alarmed at what the two law enforcement officers had to say.

Their theory was that Special Agent Liam Dresser had become infatuated by Crystal Greystone, a transgender entertainer and prostitute whom Dresser had accused of being a KGB operative and involved in the deaths of Bronson Bateman, a Washington lobbyist and a US Air Force officer named Colonel William Spooner. Dresser’s Special Agent in Charge in Washington had rightly dismissed the claims due to lack of evidence.

This had enraged Dresser who had tracked Crystal Greystone to the Pink Parrot nightclub in Washington and failing to find her there had engaged in sexual congress with a crossdresser named Wendy Meakins in order to find out where Crystal was located.

He then took all of his annual leave at short notice and followed Crystal to Las Vegas where he tracked her down working in a review at the Ambassador Hotel and Casino. Looking at the crazy ‘crime-wall’ that Dresser had created in his hotel room and the delusional scribbles in his notebook, it was deduced that Dresser had convinced himself that Ms Greystone was attempting to somehow subvert Professor Brett Beaumont.

A psychiatrist brought in by the FBI determined that Dresser’s infatuation with Crystal Dresser was a kind of obsessive delusion brought about by a psychotic paranoid condition and erotomanic delusions.

Brett Beaumont was well known for his excesses and had not only engaged in drunken gambling binges whilst he was in Las Vegas but had also used the services of prostitutes. A young well-endowed young blonde woman who was seen standing beside him whilst he was playing blackjack in the Stardust Casino confirmed that he had paid for her services. Fred Winebrow, the Ambassador Hotel’s casino manager and entertainment director confirmed that Crystal Greystone had left the cabaret at least twice with Beaumont and although Winebrow wouldn’t admit it, it was assumed that Crystal was hooking.

Crystal had been seen in his company of Brett Beaumont quite often, canoodling with him in the bars, restaurants, the lobby, and on the gaming floors and had been seen inside his hotel room by a room attendant delivering champagne. Witnesses had seen Crystal leaving the Envoy Cabaret with Brett Beaumont the evening of the murders, accompanying him whilst he played the gaming tables. They later took the elevator up to her room in the Ambassador Hotel.

The hypothesis was that Liam Dresser had taken Michelle Dupree up to her hotel room where they had engaged in sexual congress. Michelle Dupree’s room adjoined Crystal Greystone’s and Dresser had heard Crystal Greystone and Brett Beaumont having sex through the permeable hotel room wall. This had ignited his intense jealousy which was well-chronicled in his notebook. Driven by his paranoia and infatuation with Crystal, Liam Dresser had undergone a psychotic break during which he had burst into Crystal’s hotel room and shot Brett Beaumont to death.

Hearing the shots, Brett Beaumont’s bodyguard Frank Mitchell had entered the room and both men had shot it out; both of them suffering fatal gunshot wounds in the melee. Michelle Dupree had been killed in the crossfire and was considered collateral damage.

Professor Beaumont’s hotel room was sealed not long after he had been identified. Given the sensitive nature of Beaumont’s work agents from the FBI and representatives from the DoE had searched his room and found that the sensitive documents held my Professor Beaumont in his hotel safe untouched. They assessed that as the documents had not been stolen, the secrets they contained remained undisclosed and secure.

Crystal Greystone had disappeared. The identity she was using was that of a baby girl who had died at birth in Colorado in 1964. Crystal had acquired a Social Security number in 1983 and then acquired other identity documents all using a false birth certificate.

None of the addresses on her identification documents or her employment record checked out. The only valid address investigators could find in her name was a post office box which was found to be empty. Dresser’s claims that she was a Soviet spy might indeed be true. The transwoman in the pictures with Colonel William Spooner having illicit sex which had been used to blackmail him was identified as most likely being Crystal Greystone. Either that or Crystal was just a prostitute who had been duped or paid to participate in the honey trap set by foreign operatives.

An alternative theory was that Crystal Greystone had assumed the dead girl’s identity so that she could live as a woman. Unless she was apprehended there was no real way to know. She could be a Soviet spy as Liam Dresser claimed or she could be an unfortunate transgender showgirl and hooker who was desperately trying to pass as a real woman and who had witnessed the killings and been so overwhelmed by the horror that she had fled, leaving behind all of her possessions.

An APB had been issued for her to be taken into custody as a material witness. Quantico’s Counterespionage Section had taken over that part of the investigation and were now in charge of the hunt for Crystal Greystone.

The LVPD, FBI and DoE were all anxious to keep the details out of the press and it was leaked that a jealous suitor and a high roller had shot it out in a Las Vegas hotel room when the jealous suitor found the woman he was infatuated with in the arms of another man. No mention was made of the FBI, Lawrence Livermore Laboratory, the DoE or Project Excalibur.

The DoE was happy to have the sensitive documents held by Professor Beaumont returned to them and the FBI was happy to keep the bizarre circumstances of Special Agent Dresser’s last days under wraps. His family was told that he had been killed during a secret mission of great national importance. They went as far as putting his picture on the FBI Wall of Honor which memorialises FBI Agents who have made the ultimate sacrifice in the performance of their duties.

Throb Nightclub, Folsom Street San Francisco, May 1986

The woman stood on the stage lit by a single spotlight. She was singing a cover of Irma Thomas’ Anyone Who Knows What Love Is and the normally noisy nightclub was hushed. Every patron in the club was watching; listening to her sing in raptured silence.

The woman’s emerald green eyes were enhanced by heavy black eyeliner and mascara and colourful eyeshadow, her lips full, red and pouty, her pretty face framed by a teased-out burgundy bob. She looked like a woman: she walked like a woman and talked like a woman, her voice husky and sensual like Kathleen Turner. Her skin was flawless and alabaster white with a scattering of freckles.

No one would ever guess that underneath that glitz and glamour beat the heart of twenty-three-year-old Kyle Gordon who had moved to San Francisco from Washington over a year ago after selling his flower shop, Fresh Scents, to his employee and friend Jeremy Proctor. He opened a similar business with the same name in the Castro District of San Francisco.

Michelle Dupree was a transgender woman who had once had a good lawyer and had legally changed the gender on all of her identity documents except her birth certificate to female. She had died in a shootout in a Las Vegas hotel. Her family had disowned her and when her body was shipped home her father cremated her without ceremony and poured her ashes and her death certificate into the trash and tried his best to forget about the son who had betrayed him and become a woman. Nobody thought to cancelled Michelle Dupree’s driver’s licence, social security and passport.

Stephan Boriliski and the KGB rezidentura had been easily able to duplicate the documents inserting the face of the now defunct Crystal Greystone.

Kyle Gordon had taken Michelle Dupree’s identity and used it to legitimise his female persona. When Kyle moved to California he resurrected Michelle Dupree and over time updated her driver’s licence and passport so that they were legal documents and no longer forgeries.

Michelle auditioned for a position as a performer at Throb nightclub and became part of the popular drag queen review. Her job required that she entertain and engage with the clientele when not performing on stage and it was no burden.

She was waiting for her latest beau, Mitch Freeman, a Lieutenant in the US Navy stationed at the Hunters Point Naval Shipyard, home port of the USS Missouri battle group. He had told Michelle that he was an expert in the maintenance and operation of the Tomahawk Land Attack Missile. A long-range, all-weather, jet-powered, subsonic cruise missile that is primarily used by the United States Navy for ship and submarine based land-attack operations.

Michelle had pretended to be inanely bored when Mitch rambled on about how important and vital his knowledge and expertise were to the US Navy and its arsenal of shipboard standoff land-attack weapons.

The new apartment acquired for Michelle by Steven Boland was ready for the honey trap later that evening: the still and video cameras carefully hidden and aimed directly at the big bed. Mitch Freeman would enjoy the delights of Michelle Dupree’s body and her many talents tonight and tomorrow he would be approached by an operative with pictographic evidence of Lieutenant Freeman’s breaches of the Uniform Code of Military Justice and violation national security protocols.

He would be given the opportunity to save himself from prison and disgrace by simply providing the operative with certain information about the Tomahawk Land Attack Missile. The imagery of his debauchery with the transwoman Michelle Dupree would hang over his head like the Sword of Damocles until he confessed to his superiors, left the navy, or died. The decision was his to make.

Michelle stood up allowing the split in the red satin evening gown she was wearing to open and expose her long, nylon-sheathed legs. She smiled at Mitch Freeman and he smiled back, making his way through the crowd towards her, his cock already becoming tumescent at the thoughts of the things he was going to do to her tonight.

The End

Author’s Note: The characters in this story are all figments of my imagination but the historical events portrayed are factual. The USA’s Strategic Defense Initiative did include Project Excalibur and the Cottage nuclear test did actually occur.

This internationally tolerated crossdresser and authoress is by no means politically inclined and the story is meant to titillate not to provoke political debate, especially given current events.

All of that aside, this foxy lady does appreciate feedback; let me know what you think, your comments and criticism encourage me to be a better writer.

Thank you for reading my story xxx Michele

up
45 users have voted.
If you liked this post, you can leave a comment and/or a kudos! Click the "Thumbs Up!" button above to leave a Kudos

Comments

That was quite the scene

Julia Miller's picture

Wow! This story certainly blew up in the third act. Bullets were flying, people were dying, and Crystal was able to escape. She was able to continue as an agent and was able to use Michelle's identity to move forward. It looks like my theory about Liam and Crystal was incorrect, but he did save her in the end, at the cost of his own life. Michelle was just in the wrong place at the wrong time and paid for it with her life. This was another fine story from Michele and I enjoyed the ride.

Not In From The Cold

joannebarbarella's picture

This could definitely make a good movie (although the censors might have a teensy-weensy bit of a problem with the sex scenes).

Poor Michelle Mark 1, but I imagine that Michelle Mark 2 is now living as a girl full-time and if she is undercover as her former friend I expect that she has had to make several improvements to her body. Knowing your earlier offerings this would not include dispensing with her male equipment.

Maybe we will see her again in one of your future posts. I did like the cameo by Wendy and you have had some of your previous heroines resurface in later stories.

Label me a fan!

Impressive storytelling

I'm sad to see the end of Crystal but, happy to see you have Michelle survive to live and give us more exciting stories. Great job Michelle.

Barb

Infatuation can be costly.

Jill Johnson's picture

Sad to see this one end but it was an enjoyable ride.