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Authors: Lynn Lake

The Red Scare (5 page)

BOOK: The Red Scare
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‘Fuck me! Fuck me!’ Adele hissed between kisses.

Constance arched her bum up, and Adele plunged a hand down, grabbed onto the dangling dong and jammed the curved tip into her wet, wanting pussy. Then she kicked Constance’s rigged bottom back down, slamming the dildo home in her cunt.

‘Yes!’ the woman screamed, hugging Constance like they were a pair of Russian dancing bears.

Constance did her part, for country and cunt. She pumped her hooked hips, pistoning the dildo back and forth in Adele’s pussy. The girl’s buttocks clenched and shuddered divinely, white hills that rippled with erotic emotion and power. The bed creaked and the women moaned, breasts and bodies and mouths melding together; Constance humping juiced-up cunt with mounted plastic dildo and getting the leather platform blowback on her own sodden pussy.

It was too much for any super-patriotic, super-sexed Lesbian-American to watch any longer. Things had gone too far in the dirty name of espionage. Communist fulfilment was out of the question – on my voyeur. I had to halt the impassioned proceedings before they went nuclear, escalated to Def-Come 1, and all.

I tore my sticky form off the wall and burst out of Room 18 and into Room 17. The cavalry to the rescue of a damsel in harness.

‘Freeze!’ I wailed, booting the door open and drawing Constance’s .22 out of the back of my panties, pointing the business end at the pleasurous pair.

The women yanked their mouths apart and twisted their heads around and gaped at me. I thought I spotted a twinkle of relief in Constance’s glassy blue orbs. I know I saw a storm of hatred spring up in Adele’s slitted grey glims. The fucking had ceased. The Cold War had gone cold again.

‘What the hell are
you
doing here!?’ Adele railed.

I pursed a smile of triumph. ‘Saving the virtue of my country,’ I smugged.

Then I gestured with the gun muzzle at Constance. ‘You can get up now, sweetheart. You’ve done your patriotic duty – below and beyond the call.’

Constance scrambled up off Adele, her dildo gliding out of the woman’s pussy despite Adele’s frantic pelvic convulsing. The girl’s breasts bounced gleefully as she bounded back over to my side.

‘You’re making a big mistake, Megan!’ Adele rasped. ‘You don’t know what you’re –’

‘Stick a vodka cork in it, Mama Khrushchev! No one’s listening to your line of propaganda any more.’ I gestured again with the blue-steel pacifier. ‘Off the bed and against the wall. You’re going to see a show now, but you’re not going to play any role in it. You’ve been sidelined like the Berlin Blockade, buster.’

Adele let out a venomous hiss and slithered off the bed, stalked over to the wall with my body prints on the other side.

‘Get that harness off,’ I said to Constance. ‘That’s no way to treat another lady. We’re going to finish this scene without the aid of apparatus, just girls glued together.’

Constance beamed and unstrapped the dripping dildo, let it and the leather straps drop. Her panties were plastered to her pussy. It took the both of us to roll the soaking pair off. Then I stripped off my suit jacket, tie, shirt, pants, panties, and shoes, with the aid of Constance. Until I was bare-naked except for the handheld shooting hardware.

We took up position on the bed – scissor position. We hunched on our bums and entwined our legs, bumping our bare pussies together. Constance moaned and gripped one of my knees, at the moist, tender, intimate touch. I groaned and gripped one of her knees, equally touched emotionally and erotically in between my legs, but keeping my gat trained on Adele squirming with anguish up against the wall.

‘This is how free Americans fuck!’ I spat at the woman, rubbing saltpetre into her gash. I humped my muff against Constance’s pretty pussy.

We moved together, Constance pumping her pelvis too, her cunt against my cunt in rhythm. Our wettened fur and slippery lips rubbed together, a squishy, velvety friction that sent arcs of delight coursing through our convulsing bodies. We moved faster and faster, stoking our raging inferno of lust, our clits sparking together.

Constance gritted her white teeth and flung her curved hips and cushiony pussy into the sensational scrubbing action. Her breasts shuddered and shivered, her legs trembling, nails biting into my knee. I humped back just as hard and as fast, my eyes jumping from Constance to Adele, back to Constance, my gun almost steady. The frantic-eyed Commie was quivering rigid against the wall, faced with the fucking she’d never get, her little fists balled and thin body shaking.

Constance and I thrust into each other in a frenzy, our buffing cunts blazing together, joined molten where it mattered most, going nuclear. We didn’t have our fingers on the red button, we had our pink button on each other’s button, our clits tripping, triggering searing, explosive all-out sexual annihilation.

Constance’s mouth broke wide open and she screamed, her body and breasts jumping, her pussy squirting hot joy into my erupting cunt. I went off like the 4th of July, jerking, jolted by pure, wet, superheated pleasure joyously ground into and through me by Constance. We bucked and shrieked, riding total ecstasy as close and as sexily as two women can.

The nefarious Adele tried to escape as Constance and I melted together at the pussies and into each other’s arms. But I shot off with the gun, as well as my pussy, spackling the wall just in front of Adele with hot lead, halting her dead and Red in her treasonous tracks. Allowing Constance and I to cling and rock together, fully enjoying the multiple orgasms that rippled through our glued pussies and bodies in waves.

‘You’d better go now, Constance,’ I said, when we finally eased our sticky sexes apart with a soggy squelch. ‘You stay,’ I said to Adele, hefting the heater.

Constance jumped off the bed and into her clothes. Then she smacked me a kiss on the lips and chirped, ‘See you back at my place?’

‘Count on it,’ I replied with a lascivious grin.

Constance blew me a final sweet smooch and then slipped through the door.

Adele snarled, ‘You’ll never see
her
again.’

‘Save your lies for the Politburo,’ I grated at her. ‘You’re under citizen’s arrest –
patriotic
citizen’s arrest.’

Me and the gun got up off the bed. I spun Adele around like a Matryoshka nesting doll and slapped the sex toy handcuffs onto her wrists. Then I went to the phone and dialled the Feds.

I was already rehearsing my acceptance speech in front of J. Edgar and Ike.

Chapter Four

‘What were you two
thinking
?’ Special Agent Oscar Dewey roared at Adele and me.

Miss Katz and I were seated on a pair of hard wooden chairs in a small, spare room located in the bowels of FBI headquarters. The both of us on the receiving end of a verbal beating the red-faced, bellowing man in the room would’ve desperately liked to turn physical, if he wasn’t sworn to higher standards. It was hardly the ticker tape reception I’d envisioned when I’d handed Adele over to the authorities.

‘I didn’t know she would tip Constance off,’ the woman now whined, jerking her head at me. ‘I knew she was dumb – being a PI – but I didn’t think she’d be
that
stupid. I just hired her to dig up some more dirt on Constance – using her sleazy private investigation tactics that you federal officers, and I, aren’t able to use.’ She smiled ingratiatingly at Mount Dewey. ‘She was the one who –’

‘I didn’t know she was secretly working for the government,’ I squealed, jerking my head at Adele, cutting off her plea of ignorance and starting my own. ‘How was I supposed to know she was the using the phoney pro-Red publishing front and her contact with Constance as an angle to infiltrate a nest of Soviet female spies preying on lesbian secretaries and assistants of high-ranking government officials?’ I tisked my head at Adele, said in all earnestness to the rumbling Dewey, ‘She withheld that vital info –’

‘Shut up!’ the agent erupted. He clenched his massive fists, his huge nostrils huffing steam like a runaway locomotive, steam coming out his beet-red ears too.


I
just wanted to get things moving.’ Adele added frustration to the fire. ‘The investigation was stalled. You came to me because Constance was using my art book modelling as a cover and contact point for Washington area security-cleared lesbians, and I thought maybe a PI could get us some real goods on the girl that I wasn’t getting, though I was certainly trying. I just didn’t count on the bungling incompet –’


I
was just doing what I thought was my duty, officer.’ I interjected fuel to the flame. ‘Acting patriotically with the information provided. I can give you a complete description of the political secretaries and female State and Defence Department employees I saw Constance meet with. At least, what they were wearing. I didn’t get a good look at their faces, because Constance was in the way. But you can certainly arrest them for –’

Dewey slammed his fists down on the small wooden table in front of me and Adele, his face florid as Mars. The pair of us jumped, wetting our panties both.

Special Agent Lindsey Potter pulled her colleague’s knuckles out of the pine and patted him on the broad, tremoring back. ‘Unfortunately, those women hadn’t done anything yet,’ the tall, athletic-looking redhead informed us. ‘Constance had only just started cultivating them, and others, with access to state secrets and classified documents. They hadn’t handed anything over to her yet – either voluntarily, or through blackmail, which I’m sure Constance would’ve used, if necessary.’

‘Well, I didn’t –’ Adele and I both started to pipe.

Until Dewey bellowed rhino-like and charged out of the room. And Potter held up a hand.

When the door on the interrogation cell slammed shut, Lindsey went on, ‘Don’t worry, ladies. We weren’t going to let Constance seduce really important information out of those women. In fact, we were going to blackmail – I should say, we were going to
recruit
them ourselves, to feed Constance and her comrades false information.’

Lindsey smiled and ran a hand through her fine, red hair, her clear blue eyes glancing from Adele to me.

We both breathed a shuddering sigh of relief.

I turned to the sometime phoney pro-Red, full-time smut publishing maven. ‘Well, Adele, at least we know Constance’s true colours now. We’ll be able to spy her for sure, if she ever sets foot in this town again.’

Adele snorted and nodded.

Then all three of us turned our gaze downwards – to the glossy, black and white 8 x10 of the aforementioned sexy Red spy lying on the wobbly table. It was a full-body shot of Constance in sheer black bra and sheer black panties, the girl gripping an uncoiled whip in one hand and dangling a pair of handcuffs in the other. She was smiling seductively, her dark hair cascading her bare, white shoulders in waves, her nipples poking the flimsy tips of the bra, pussy mound outlined by the thin panties.

We all looked up at each other together. And I suddenly got the warm, wet, euphoric feeling that our country was still safe from the Red Menace; and that this particular official interrogation session was about to turn highly personal for all concerned – thanks to the sultry Soviet agent at the centre of our attention.

Lindsey locked the door of the cell, shutting Agent Dewey out of the proceedings. Classifying it: restricted, for women only.

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