Houston: the Girl of His Dreams - Cover

Houston: the Girl of His Dreams

Copyright© 2022 by Saddletramp1956

Chapter 2

Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 2 - John and Houston Smith go back to London. Mayhem ensues...

Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Consensual   Drunk/Drugged   Heterosexual   Fiction   Mystery   Violence  

The next morning, John woke up, pulled back the covers and got out of bed. He looked and saw his clothes neatly folded on a chair in the bedroom. After rinsing his mouth out in the bathroom, he did his business and got dressed.

Just then, Houstonia came into the room with a tray. She walked through the bedroom and out onto a balcony before calling to him.

“You need your strength, John,” she said. “Please join me on the balcony. It is such a nice morning.” He went onto the balcony and he had to agree. The temperature was just right and there was a slight breeze blowing. He looked down at the plate and saw what looked like scrambled eggs. He sat down and began eating. Yes, they tasted like scrambled eggs with a bit of salt and pepper, just the way he liked them.

“Aren’t you going to eat?” he asked.

“It’s not necessary,” she said.

He finished the eggs and drank the dark, hot liquid from the cup in front of him. Coffee, with just a hint of cinnamon. It was rather delicious, so he gulped down half the cup in one swallow.

“How did you sleep?” she asked.

“I slept well, thank you,” he told her.

“Did you dream?” she asked.

“Yes, I had a rather strange dream,” he said. “I was in a room. There was a woman sitting next to a bed. She looked a lot like you, in fact. Except for her hair. There was a man in the bed. I couldn’t see his face, but there were a lot of tubes and wires attached to him. The woman was crying. I felt bad for her. I wanted to comfort her, but when I reached out, my hand went right through her. It’s strange – I felt like I knew that woman, like we have some kind of connection. I can’t explain it.”

“The girl of your dreams, perhaps, John Smith?” she asked rhetorically.

“I don’t know. None of it made any sense to me.”

Houstonia nodded her head and looked out over the strange landscape.

“You will not be able to stay here much longer, I am afraid,” she said sadly.

“Why not?”

“The corpuscles are gaining in strength and numbers. When they are ready, they will come for you.”

“Can’t you do something?” John asked. “You’re the Queen Protector. Surely you can make them see reason.” She smiled at that.

“You don’t understand. The corpuscles do not reason, and they do not understand language. They are driven by instinct and programming. It is their job to eradicate and remove invaders to the System.”

“Is that what I am? An invader? And what is this System?”

“The System is all that you see. Urhart is just one part of it. North of us is Urmind. There are many other realms. Together, all of them make up the System, and when one realm suffers, the entire System suffers. And yes, technically, you are an invader and you have not yet been accepted by the System. Perhaps one day, if you survive, you will be. But that may take a very long time, and there is no guarantee you will ever be fully integrated. Look at yourself, then look around. Surely you can see the difference.”

“Of course I can see the difference,” John said. “So, what do we do?”

“As much as I would like you to stay, the truth is we need to find a way to get you back where you belong,” she said. “Of course, you are welcome to remain here as my guest. And you may remain in my bed while you are here.” She looked out over the landscape before speaking again. “There’s a storm brewing. You probably shouldn’t stay out here too long.”

John looked and saw a gathering of large red clouds in the distance. As he watched, he saw flashes of lightning jump between them and he felt the humidity suddenly increase.

“Good idea,” he said as he stood up.


Houston sat in the chair next to John’s bed, her head in her hands. She had spent much of the night crying for her husband, hoping to get news that someone had figured out how to counteract the drugs that had been pumped into his system.

She thought back over the days leading up to the visit to Clive Barker’s flat. She couldn’t understand why Roisin and some of her colleagues hated them so much. This wasn’t their first trip to the UK, and so far, most of the people they had encountered there were quite warm and friendly.

She remembered one day as she and John were walking along the sidewalk. A group of rather rough-looking teenagers dressed in leather came up to them. She wondered if they were going to attempt a mugging, but one of them simply asked if John had the time.

“Pardon me, sir, but would you happen to have the time?”

“Of course,” John said, looking at his watch. He told them what time it was, and the teen who asked simply nodded his head and thanked them.

“Thank you very much, sir,” he said. The group strolled off and they continued walking down the sidewalk, taking in the scene around them. They always enjoyed visiting new places and meeting new people. So, she wondered, why was Roisin and some of the others so rude to them? What had they ever done to deserve such treatment?

She recalled the day that John nearly ended up in a fight with one of Roisin’s men. It was their second day here, and Ross had just wrapped up their morning briefing. Most of the others had gone off to do whatever it was they had been assigned to do, and she went to the sink to rinse out her cup.

She felt a man’s hand on her ass, and was about to respond, when the hand was suddenly removed and she heard John’s voice. She turned and saw that John had put the taller man’s hand in a vice-lock and had him on his knees on the floor. John’s face was red with anger as he spoke to the man.

“What’s your name again, asshole?” John asked.

“Sheffield,” the man responded through his pain.

“Ah, that’s right. Shithead,” John said. “Tell you what, Shithead. The woman you just assaulted happens to be an agent of the United States government. She also happens to be my partner AND my wife. If you ever assault her again, I swear to God I’ll personally introduce you to levels of pain you can’t even begin to imagine. Understand me, Shithead? I said, DO YOU FUCKING UNDERSTAND ME?” Sheffield nodded his head as John continued to put pressure on his hand and wrist.

“Yes, I understand,” he gasped. “I’m sorry.” John released the man’s hand and watched as he tumbled back on the floor. He turned to Houston.

“Are you okay?” he asked quietly. Houston nodded her head and John turned to Ross and Roisin, who stood there, watching the altercation. By then, a few others had gathered at the door and were watching intently.

“Try to keep your fucking animals under control, willya?” he asked. Not waiting for an answer, he escorted Houston out of the kitchen, pausing long enough to punch a hole in the wall by the doorway. The others got out of the way as John and Houston walked through them. They turned and looked at the large hole in the wall left by John’s fist. One of them helped Sheffield get back on his feet.

“If you ever pull a stunt like that again, Sheffield, I’ll have you sacked. Understand me?” Roisin snarled. “That goes for all of you.”

“Yes, mum,” Sheffield said sheepishly. The others nodded their heads and went back to their business. Roisin may not have thought much of the two Americans, but she was not about to tolerate sexual harassment from anyone.

Houston was brought back to the present by the sound of tapping on the door. Perhaps it was a nurse or a doctor coming in to check on her husband. She wiped the tears from her face before responding.

“It’s open,” she said. She heard the door open and looked to see who was coming in. She was shocked to see Roisin step inside, a smile on her face. She held a drink carrier in her hand with two cups.

“I stopped at the Starbucks over by Hyde Park,” she said. “I thought you might enjoy a caramel mocha this morning. I understand that’s a favorite.” Houston smiled and nodded her head.

“That sounds good,” she said. “Thank you.” Roisin handed her a cup and took the other for herself. She pulled up a chair and sat next to Houston.

“How is he?” she asked, looking at John.

“He seems to be resting for the moment,” Houston said. “He goes through periods where he tosses and turns and his vitals are all over the place. But right now, he’s okay.” She looked at Roisin and noticed that she actually seemed concerned about her husband’s well-being. And the coffee surprised her. “So, who are you and what have you done with Roisin Callahan?” she asked with a smile. Roisin smiled at that.

“This is the real me, I assure you,” she said. “What did the doctor say?”

“They say he was hit with a very potent psychotropic compound that’s affecting his entire nervous system,” Houston said.

“Are they working up a cure?” Roisin asked. Houston shook her head.

“They don’t even know where to start. I’ve sent information about it to our medical people. The doctor said if he stays out much longer there could be permanent brain damage. Told me I should prepare to take him off life support.”

“Well, then, I guess we’d better find Barker and get the antidote, eh?” Roisin asked. Houston looked at her.

“I want to be there when you do,” she said.

“I just happen to know the person in charge of that team. I think we can arrange that.” Houston looked back at John.

“I can’t bear to be without him, Roisin,” she said. “He’s everything to me. Tell me, have you ever loved someone like that?”

“I did, once,” Roisin said quietly.

“That’s right. Lt. James Harmon, U.S. Naval Attache Officer. Regis told me and I checked it out. I hope you don’t mind.”

“Not at all,” Roisin said. “We were very happy together. He asked me to marry him and I agreed. Then about six months later, I caught him in bed with some sleazy tart and threw him out. I couldn’t believe the nerve of the wanker. He just looked at me and carried on without a word.”

“We’re not all like him, you know,” Houston said.

“I know,” Roisin said. “He just left a very sour taste in my mouth. In more ways than one.” Houston smiled.

“Well, Lt. Harmon is now Lt. Commander Harmon, and he’s been stationed in Antarctica for the last three years,” Houston said. “He got caught screwing an admiral’s daughter. She was barely 19. The admiral was so pissed, he sent Harmon to Antarctica and that’s where he’s been ever since. Got passed over for promotion twice now. I don’t think he’ll be in the Navy much longer.” Roisin chuckled at that.

“I guess I dodged a bullet with that one,” Roisin said.

“Yeah,” Houston said. “You know, I almost blew it like that with John once. He gave me one hell of a wake up call, though. He had faith in me and stuck by me. I owe him everything, Roisin. Even my life. That’s why I have to be there when you go after Barker.”

“I understand,” Roisin said.

“Roisin, I want to apologize for going off on you yesterday,” Houston said. “It was unprofessional and I’m sorry.”

“No worries,” Roisin said. “We’ve been pretty hard on you and John and I can understand how you would feel. If it were my husband laying there, I might very well have done the same thing. And, I ... apologize for being a bloody awful bitch to you.” Houston could tell it was hard for her to apologize. She nodded her head.

“Apology accepted. Why have you guys been so hard on us?” Houston asked. Roisin shrugged her shoulders.

“A few reasons,” she said. “When they told us what it was all about, we figured it was just another wild goose chase. Most of us really didn’t take it all that seriously. As far as we were concerned, it was all a bunch of crazy conspiracy theories. When we were told that two of our best people would be part of an exchange for some kind of joint briefing, we couldn’t believe our ears.”

“But you’ve changed your mind since then?”

“Yes,” Roisin said. “I don’t know who your boss talked to or what he said, but things have changed drastically. We had a very long meeting last night. They briefed us on the whole situation. And you could say we had a few rockets fired up our arses. Until then, we had no idea just how serious this was. So, starting today, the team is moving back to Vauxhall Cross. You will be given full unfettered access to whatever you need. And I’ve heard a rumor that the two of you may receive a letter of apology from the Home Secretary himself, delivered in person.”

“Wow,” Houston said.

“You were right about one thing, Houston,” Roisin said. “Barker was tipped off by someone on the inside. But it wasn’t me.”

“Do you have any idea who it was?”

“Yes, we have a few suspects. We’ll know for sure soon enough,” Roisin said. “Tell me, Houston, when was the last time you slept?”

“I honestly don’t remember,” Houston told her.

“Well, if you expect to be on my team when we go back after Barker, you need to get some sleep. Understand?” Houston nodded her head.

“Yeah,” she said. “I can rack out on the couch over there for a bit. I just feel like I need to be here with my husband.”

“Very well,” Roisin said. “I was just wondering something.”

“What?” Houston asked.

“Isn’t it a bit ... odd for you and your husband to be assigned to each other as partners?”

“It is,” Houston said. “But Regis – my boss – kinda marches to the beat of his own drum, if you know what I mean. And no one questions him. At least, no one with the desire to keep his balls intact questions him.” Roisin chuckled at that.

“I don’t doubt that at all. Here, let me give you my mobile number. You can ring me up if there’s anything you might need. I’d better get over to the old house and make sure they have everything packed up.” She extended a hand to Houston. “Truce?” Houston looked at her hand and smiled.

“Truce,” she said, shaking Roisin’s hand. “And thanks for the coffee.” After Roisin left, Houston finished her coffee, then laid down on the couch that ran alongside John’s bed and fell asleep.


“They know everything, I’m telling ya,” the man said as he spoke into his mobile phone.

“They can’t know everything. That’s impossible,” the man at the other end of the call said.

“They certainly know enough. They know about you and the Yank First Lady. They also know about the cash you’ve been bringing over from the States.”

“How?”

“I don’t know, but they do.” The man at the other end of the call sighed. “So, what do you want us to do?”

“I’m thinking. Have you spoken to Clive yet?”

“No, not since all this blew up.”

“Good. Does he still have the antidote?”

“As far as I know.”

“Get it from him. Then take care of him. Permanently. Make it look like a robbery gone wrong or something. We can’t have any loose ends.”

“What about the American agent he shot? You want me to finish him as well?”

“No. There’s still a chance we can get out of this. Make it look as though you took the initiative and recovered the antidote. That should throw everyone off for a while.”

“You want me to help the American? After all this?”

“What are you complaining about? You’ll end up looking like the hero.”

“I don’t like it.”

“That’s the way it has to be. And it has to be done today.”

“Why today? What’s the rush?”

“It’s going down tonight.” The man said nothing for a few moments as he took in what he just heard.

“Right. I’ll take care of it today. Personally.”

“See that you do.” The call ended and the man put the phone in his pocket. He looked at the other man with him.

“Well, what did he say?” the man asked.

“We have a job to do. Give Clive a ring. Now.”

“Then what?”

“You go meet him. Get the antidote. You know what to do after that. I’ll go to the hospital. I’ll pretend to be concerned about Smith. You meet me there with the antidote.”

“What about the Yank? And his wife?”

“I’ll take care of him. Personally. I owe him one,” he said, looking at his hand, which was still a bit sore from the twisting he received from John that day in the kitchen.

“What about his wife?”

“We’ll take care of her together. I’ve got what I need to get her good and ready. Once her husband is awake, we’ll give her the shagging of her life. Then we take care of both of them.”

“You saw what she did to Roisin that first day. You really think we’ll be able to take her?”

“Parlor trick. Trust me, she’s as soft as she looks.”

“I hope you’re right. I’ll ring up Clive now.”


Somewhere in the middle of the MI6 building at Vauxhall Cross, five people sat in a darkened room as they listened to audio of an overseas phone call. The only illumination in the room came from the computer monitors in front of them.

The man in front of the computer clicked on an icon and confirmed the phone at the overseas end was located somewhere in the U.S. Midwest. The official map had no name for the location, but two of those in the room knew it was the location of a secure U.S. Government facility known to many as Fort Apache, the headquarters of the HomeFront Security Task Force.

They also knew it was the current location of Prime Minister Brown, who was there to participate in a top-secret briefing with the newly-inaugurated American President. The conversation they just heard and recorded was thanks to one of the men who sat in the back of the room.

“That feckin’ prick,” Roisin hissed. “So much for being out sick.” She turned to the one-eyed man sitting in the back of the room. “You were right. Tell me, are all of our mobiles equipped with that surveillance chip?”

“No,” Regis said. “But most burner phones are. Fortunately, that’s something we’ve been able to keep from the public. For obvious reasons.” Now she had another decision to make. She thought about it for a moment before pulling out her cell. She punched in the number and waited for the man at the other end to answer.

“Sheffield and Brown are on the move. Follow Brown and keep me appraised of his location,” she said.

“On our way,” the man at the other end said before ending the call. She turned to Ross and hoped she made the right decision. She was concerned about Barker, but she had bigger concerns, namely the life of a particular American agent, and two of the turncoats working with McWhorter. Ross understood her conflict and nodded his head. She made one more call.

“Hello,” Houston said when she answered the phone. Roisin could tell she had been asleep.

“Houston, this is Roisin. Sheffield is on his way to your location now. He’ll probably be there in about 15 or 20 minutes. We’ve got assets in the vicinity of the room you’re in. Brown is picking up the antidote from Barker. Try to maintain until we can get there. And watch yourself. He’s up to no good.”

“Will do,” Houston said. Ending the call, she thought about what Roisin had said. Perhaps, she thought, he would try to drug her. She looked through her overnight bag and found the small tin that held the anti-date rape drug pills she got when they were in Washington. Opening it, she took a small tablet and placed it under her tongue. Then she sat back down on the couch and waited. About 15 minutes later, she heard a knock at the door.

“Come in,” she said. The door opened and Alan Sheffield walked in. She took stock of his height and noticed the slight smirk on his face.

“How’s your husband, Mrs. Smith,” he asked.

“He’s resting for now, thanks for asking. What brings you here?”

“Well, I just wanted to come by to let you know we have a lead on that antidote,” he said. “My partner, Derek Brown, has gone to Hackney to see if he can collect it and bring it here.”

“That is good news,” Houston said. “Have you told Roisin?”

“Not yet,” he said. “I wanted to wait until Derek got here.”

“I see.”

“So, you think that maybe we can sit for a little while, maybe get to know each other a bit before he gets here? I know we got off on the wrong foot and I wanted to make it up to you.”

“Sure, have a seat,” she said.


John sat on his chair, watching as the strange storm came closer. He remembered always being fascinated by storms and he enjoyed watching this one come close, the lightning flashing with increasing ferocity.

Houstonia sat behind him and watched the storm as well, but she wasn’t fascinated by it at all. Something about this storm didn’t sit well with her at all. Suddenly, the bedroom door opened and one of the scantily-clad women came inside, bowing as she approached Houstonia.

“Yes, what is it?” Houstonia asked.

“My Queen, the corpuscles are on their way. They’re in the storm clouds.”

“Very well,” Houstonia said. “Sound battle stations. Prepare my steed.”

“Yes, my Queen,” the woman said, scurrying out of the room. Houstonia walked to John and placed a hand on his shoulder.

“They’re coming,” she said. “In the storm. You need to take shelter.” He looked at her, shocked. Surely, she didn’t expect him to hide.

“I can’t hide while you fight to protect me,” he said. “There’s got to be something I can do.” She looked at the incoming storm then back at him.

“Very well,” she said. “There is an armored defensive position out there on the northeastern bastion. You can man the weapon there. It works just like the weapon I showed you earlier.”

“Okay, I think I can do that,” he said. “What are you going to do?”

“I must prepare for battle. I will meet them up there, where I can engage them directly,” she added, pointing to the sky.

“Be safe, please,” he said. She smiled and kissed him on the lips.

“Don’t worry, John Smith. I’ll be just fine.” With that, she turned and started to don her fighting attire. John left the room and found his way to the northeastern bastion. He looked at the mounted weapon to familiarize himself. It was larger than the pistol he was given, but looked to operate in the same way.

He looked and saw blobs of red already being launched at the cloud, so he decided to pitch in. Taking the weapon off safe, he saw a green indicator bar that seemed to suggest the weapon was fully charged and ready for use. He grabbed the handles and aimed the weapon at the cloud. Surely I can’t miss this, he thought as he pressed the trigger.

As he held the trigger, blobs of red – something – shot from the barrel and headed for the cloud. He saw yellow explosions and small puffs of smoke where the red blobs had hit their targets. Like shooting fish in a barrel, he thought as he continued to press the trigger. He heard a screech and looked up to see Houstonia on the back of her giant winged steed, heading into the sky above the growing cloud.

“You go get ‘em, girl,” he said quietly. Suddenly, he saw green blobs fly past his position. Some of them came straight for him, but were stopped by what he thought was some kind of an invisible shield. “Oh no, you did NOT shoot that green shit at me,” he said. Then he realized he had heard that line before. But from where? He quickly realized he didn’t have time to mull it over and pressed the trigger, firing into the cloud with everything he had.

Soon, the sky was filled with flying red and green blobs and he could see the froggish corpuscles and their pterodactyl-like beasts falling from the cloud in great numbers. As the cloud came closer to the fortress, it split into four parts and began to surround the fortress.


Alan looked at Houston as the two of them sat and made small talk. He had never really thought of her as anything other than a good-looking woman – something to be used as arm candy by her husband. Of course, he was impressed with her to a certain extent, having seen what she did to Roisin that first day. To the best of his knowledge, no one had ever been able to best the Irish woman in a one-on-one contest.

After a few minutes of small talk, he decided to up the ante and checked his jacket pocket to make sure he still had the tablets. He did, so he made his move.

“Houston, would you like a bit of tea? My treat.”

“That would be nice, Alan, thank you,” she said. Watching him walk away, she noticed the tell-tale bulge in the back of his jacket and knew he had a weapon tucked into his belt.

She felt her phone buzz and pulled it out. There was a message from Roisin: “DB has antidote. On way to you now.” She sent a quick acknowledgment and put her phone away before Alan got back. She had a pretty good idea what the two of them had in mind and she hoped the backup assets were in place.

A couple minutes later, Alan returned with two styrofoam cups of tea and handed one over to her, checking out her body as he did so. Damn, he thought, that’s one bird I’m going to really enjoy eating. He watched as she took a sip of tea and wondered if the stuff he put in it acted as fast as he had been told.

It didn’t take very long for Houston to realize that the tea Alan gave her had been spiked with something. Perhaps it was Ecstasy, perhaps it was something else. Fortunately, the pill she took earlier was doing its job.

She watched Alan to see if he was going to make a move or if he was waiting for his partner in crime. She noticed that he seemed to be watching her like a hawk. Perhaps, she thought, he’s waiting to see when the drug will start to affect her.

He watched to see when the pill would take affect. He began to get a bit nervous after a while. She had consumed almost all of the tea but was still showing no indication that the Ecstasy was having an impact. Maybe, he thought, he should have used more than the two tablets he put in her drink. After a few minutes, the door opened and Derek came in, holding a syringe in one hand.

“I got it,” he said.

“Good, go ahead and give it to him,” Alan said.

“Maybe we should wait for the doctor,” Houston told them. Alan shook his head.

“No worries, luv,” he told her. “Derek knows what he’s doing. Don’tcha, mate?”

“I know what I’m doing, don’t worry you’re sweet little head,” Derek said as he began to insert the needle into John’s IV.

“Once Derek’s done, then we’re gonna take care of both of you,” Alan said with a wicked grin.

“What do you mean?” Houston asked. Alan just laughed and Derek laughed with him. The door opened again and the room began to fill up as Roisin, Ross and a few other members of the team came into the room.

“What are you doing?” Roisin asked.

“What does it look like?” Alan asked. “Derek got the antidote and he’s giving it to John. That was the idea, wasn’t it?”

“Get away from him, Derek. Both of you stay clear of the patient,” Roisin ordered.

“Or what?” Alan asked. By now, Derek had already injected the antidote into John’s IV and moved to one side. Alan had positioned himself between Houston and Roisin, mistakenly thinking Houston could do nothing to him at this point. Houston took the initiative and kicked Alan in the back of his legs, causing him to go down to his knees.

Derek took the opportunity to run out of the room, prompting the others to run after him. Roisin was still in the room, but her attention was now on Derek’s attempted escape. Houston saw Alan reach back and grab the pistol in his belt. She knew if she did nothing, someone could get hurt or killed. She remembered something John once showed her and hoped she had enough strength.

Without thinking, she grabbed Alan by the chin and the back of his head and quickly snapped his head to one side. She heard a sickening crunch and saw his arms go limp. She let go and watched as he fell forward, his neck having been snapped. Shocked, Roisin looked at her former colleague, his neck broken. Then she looked at Houston.

“Look at his hand,” Houston said. Roisin looked where Houston indicated and saw the small, illegal, semiautomatic pistol. Realizing that Houston had probably saved her life, she looked at Houston, smiled and nodded her head.


John furiously fired his weapon at the dark red cloud, watching the corpuscles and their flying beasts fall to the ground. He looked at the indicator and saw it was nearing the bottom of the scale. He hoped he had enough ammunition to get through the battle.

The sky was now filled with red and green blobs as he and the other defenders fired into the red clouds that now surrounded the fortress, blocking out almost all of the light from the sun. He saw streams of fire in the sky and knew they were from Houstonia’s winged steed.

Suddenly, there was a brilliant flash of light in the sky and a long roll of thunder. A light rain began to fall and the cloud began to dissipate. As it did, the few remaining corpuscles turned and fled. Soon, the sky was clear and there were no more green blobs in the air. Seeing no need to continue fighting, he let loose of his weapon just as the last bar began to blink.

A few minutes later, Houstonia landed and rushed to the bastion where John was located. He looked at her as she approached him, and he began to remember. The name Houston came to his mind and he remembered that she was his wife. But who was Houstonia, he asked himself. And why did she look so much like his wife?

When Houstonia reached him, she put her hands on his shoulders and looked him in the eyes. Then she smiled.

“The antidote has been delivered, John Smith,” she said. “You are going to live.” He looked back at her and noticed that she was becoming transparent. He knew he was leaving, almost as if waking up from a dream. But there was something he had to know.

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