Chapter 3

Four years later.

"Since we're going to be working together on this case, Mr. Hopkins, perhaps you wouldn't mind telling me about yourself," said the beautiful young American girl sitting across from him. Her bright pink lips were very full and sensuous, and her dark eyes sparkled with teasing promise. Her name was Elizabeth Morris.

Prickteaser! That was the first word that occurred to Frank as he studied the features of the young girl who had been assigned to work with him in the puzzling wartime venture. But there was no doubt that she was a very appealing young woman. Beneath her thin white blouse he could clearly discern a well-filled white brassiere which came to two steep points, and from her manner he could tell that she was proud of her full figure. The restaurant table concealed the lower half of her body, but he had previously noted her beautifully rounded hips and full, shapely legs.

"There's really not much to tell," Frank replied quietly, his voice giving no indication that he was aware of the understatement he was making. "Since I was a pilot, I went into the R.A.F. the minute the war started. I was assigned to a fighter pilot base designed to protect London and the south of England."

The girl was listening quietly, her eyes beaming with admiration that girls often displayed for fighter pilots. Frank had seen that look often back in England. He remembered his last sexual conquest before leaving for the States. For some reason he could no longer recall the girl's name. She was a member of the Women's Auxiliary Air Force, and the two of them had been trapped in a sudden and completely unexpected air raid.

They embraced suddenly, impulsively, instinctively, their mouths and tongues meeting. There was no time for them to remove their uniforms. Frank's hand slid up under her thick WAAF skirt, over her cobwebby black stockings and toward the elastic of her directoire knickers. He slipped his finger under the elastic and up to the top of her stockings. The touch of her warm bare thighs sent quivers up and down his spine, and her small hands began working to release his suddenly pounding manhood from his fly.

Moving up her velvety thighs, Frank's fingers soon found the deliciously warm, waterfall of feminine juices. As his fingers separated her plump cuntal lips and explored the wet interior, her small hand closed tightly around his pulsating, blood-filled penis. The girl hastily removed her knickers, and with her uniform skirt up to the waist, lay back with her girlish charms exposed in the framework of her black garter belt and stockings. Frank quickly mounted her and plunged his painfully throbbing cock into her wet wonderland. The spontaneity of it all and the danger of the air raid more than made up for the lack of foreplay, and the two of them climaxed together in a joyous celebration of life.

Frank could still vividly recall how she had tenderly wiped him off afterwards with her silken knickers.

"To stay alive in the Battle of Britain," Frank continued his narrative, "you had to be either lucky or good, or a little bit of both. I was lucky but I wasn't so good. After I got shot down, I figured the war was probably over for me. Then Intelligence came up with this operation in the States, and here I am."

He left unsaid what his dinner companion already knew. His former pupil, Erica Schmidt, was alleged to be a Nazi spy operating in wartime Washington, D.C., and according to the briefing that Frank had received she had apparently successfully compromised a high U.S. official. Frank's mission was to find her and, if possible, use her as an unwilling double agent to transmit false information to the enemy. The mission was complicated by various factors, one of which was that Erica had apparently undergone an operation to disguise her identity. Another factor, which he didn't like to think about, was the possibility that she would recognize him first and take steps to eliminate him.

"And how do you propose to go about this operation?" Elizabeth asked, taking a cautious look around to see that no one was listening. "I was told that you have some special qualifications for the job, but apart from that I'm completely in the dark."

"I don't think we should talk here," Frank told her. "Perhaps there's some place we could be alone."

Elizabeth's eyes lit up with promise. "We could go to my apartment," she told him. "It's within walking distance."

Outside the restaurant, Frank was keenly aware of the sharp click of her high heels on the sidewalk. She was wearing black patent leather spike heels and pointed toes and, despite the hosiery shortage, sheer dark brown nylons. He had noted earlier that her stocking seams were perfectly vertical, and emphasized the swelling curvaceousness of her full calves.

Her apartment proved to be small but comfortable, and also quite well furnished for a working girl. Elizabeth smiled at him as she switched on the lights. "Housing conditions being what they are, I'm lucky to have my own place," she told him.

"Quite nice. Quite nice," Frank observed quietly, taking a quick look around.

"Sit down and I'll bring you a liqueur," she suggested.

Frank seated himself in a comfortable chair, and watched her curvaceous bottom jiggling under her navy blue skirt as she disappeared from the room. She returned in a moment with the drinks, and placed them on a small coffee table in front of him. Picking up his drink, Frank pretended not to notice as she seated herself across from him and crossed her shapely legs with a flash of nylon.

"Now tell me what you're planning," she told him. "And what part I'm supposed to play in it."

"There are seven girls sharing an apartment," he told her, naming a location a few blocks away. "All of the intelligence people are sure that Erica is one of those girls, but they don't know which one. Now I'm told that there's room for one more girl in that apartment, and that's where you come in. We can arrange to have you meet one of the girls and sign on as an additional roommate. Now, what kind of a cover story do you have?"

Sipping lightly on her liqueur, Elizabeth was leaning back comfortably and slowly swinging her free leg back and forth. Her blue skirt had started to ride up, and Frank could catch a glimpse of the darker portions of her stockings.

Suspecting that she was deliberately teasing him, Frank tried hard not to notice. But the irregular sex life imposed upon him by the wartime conditions left him continually susceptible to feminine charms, and he could already feel the initial stirrings of a potential erection.

"I came here in nineteen-thirty-eight when my uncle was elected to Congress," Elizabeth told him. "I was his secretary."

From the way she hesitated before pronouncing the final word, Frank wondered if mistress might not have been a more appropriate description of her duties.

"He was defeated when he ran for re-election in nineteen- forty and went back home," she continued. "However, I stayed and took a position with the Bureau." A sudden flicker of a smile crossed her face as she spoke, as if she had at that instant become aware of the stimulating effect she was having on her English visitor.

"Well, you'll have to work out some kind of a story," Frank told her, not bothering with the details. "Make them think you're a new girl in town or something."

"Okay, But how do I go about finding out which one is Erica, assuming she's there?" she asked. "Why can't you just pick her out yourself?"

Frank shook his head. "No, they've shown me pictures of all the girls and I can't pick her out."

"Then why did they bring you all the way over here?" Elizabeth asked. "It seems to me that she'll recognize you first and put some strychnine in your tea."

"There's always that danger," Frank agreed. "But I was sent here because I could recognize things about Erica that others couldn't." He spoke slowly, obviously trying to speak in the most discreet fashion possible. "She obviously had a face lift, but there are other areas of her body that..."

"So it's that way?" Elizabeth interrupted as she suddenly grasped the true nature of the relationship between the headmaster and his former pupil.

"Yes," Frank readily admitted. "And I know what things get her going, what things turn her on. For example, she has certain Lesbian tendencies that can get the best of her under certain circumstances."

Elizabeth's cheeks suddenly flashed a bright crimson. "You don't think that I'm..." she fumed.

"You may have to pretend," he told her. "But Erica has an even bigger hang-up. Nothing turns her on like a good hot spanking!"

For a moment Elizabeth looked at him in an uncomprehending manner, as if she were waiting for him to finish the punch line of a joke. "So what?" she finally asked. "You just can't go around spanking girls..."

"I have a plan," Frank told her quietly. "One that I think will work."

"Let me get another round of drinks and then you can tell me about it," Elizabeth told him, giving him a brief glimpse of white thigh as she uncrossed her legs to get up.

Frank watched her leave the room, noting from the way that her provocative bottom jounced under her skirt that she was obviously wearing a garter belt rather than a girdle to hold up her stockings. By this time he found himself with a firm erection that was becoming difficult to conceal. Elizabeth returned with another round of drinks and, seating herself, crossed her legs with little attempt to control her skirt. Her stockings ended a little more than half-way up her thighs, revealing carnation-white flesh that contrasted vividly with the black suspenders of her garter belt. The stocking bands were wide, about a quarter of the length of her entire thigh, with two distinct shades melding into each other.

"All right, tell me your plan!" she told him, giving him a candid downward glance that indirectly informed him that she was aware of his erection.

Swinging her leather-clad foot back and forth in a thoroughly distracting fashion, Elizabeth listened first with disbelief and then with almost unconcealed amusement as Frank outlined his plan to her. "It'll never work," she told him when he had finished. "These are grown women. In their twenties. They'd never agree to something that wild."

"Yes, they will," Frank told her confidently. "If necessary, we can tip off some of the girls so that they can pretend to go along with it."

"Well, we can try it at least," Elizabeth agreed.

The business portion of their meeting obviously having ended, there was a brief silence as each waited for the other to make the next move.

"Now that business is over for the time being, perhaps it's time for some pleasure!" Frank told her.

"Perhaps!" Elizabeth smiled, flashing a seductive glance at him.

Frank quickly moved to a seated position beside her on the couch, his bulging erection quite apparent. Elizabeth slipped her slender arms around his neck and pulled his face down to hers in a long, lingering kiss. Her full, sensuous lips tasted sweet and receptive, and she gradually opened them so that their tongues could meet. With a quick, darting movement, she skimmed the warm tip of her tongue around the inside of his mouth.

"You're a very attractive young woman," Frank told her, his hand brushing against her sheer nylons as he began pulling up her navy blue skirt. She made no attempt to stop him and in a moment her skirt was up over the darker bands of her stockings, revealing white thighs and garter belt suspenders.

"How do you like these nylons?" Elizabeth asked, extending her legs together so that he could view their entire length. "They're really hard to get."

"Well, why don't you leave them on while I make love to you?" Frank suggested with a smile.

"Okay!" she agreed, her amused laugh indicating that she had no objection to accommodating such a harmless fetish. "But you'll have to take off all your clothes!"

"Fair enough!" Frank agreed.

As his pretty hostess sat watching with her skirt pulled up over the tops of her stockings, he quickly began peeling off all of his clothing. After removing everything else, he stood facing her as he removed first his slacks and then his shorts. As he straightened up after discarding his shorts, Elizabeth's eyes widened and flashed with undisguised pleasure at the sight of the blood-engorged and rigidly hard cock.

"Mmmmmm, that's enough to make any girl's mouth water!" she exclaimed, impulsively leaning forward and planting a moist, warm kiss right on the sleek crown. Grasping the elongated trunk with one hand, she quickly skimmed her warm pink tongue over the entire head. "You don't know how hard it is to get good prick these days, honey!" she told him, punctuating her remarks with hot, eager kisses down the base of his aching masculine shaft. "Even in Washington there's a real manpower shortage."

More than a little dismayed by her total capitulation before his rigidly upright, pounding manhood, Frank took in a deep breath and held it as her pretty mouth worked its magic on him.

"Love it! Love it!" Elizabeth went on, turning her head from one side to the other so that the smooth head could brush against her soft, feminine cheeks. "So hard and so big!"

Without further ado, the comely young brunette began disrobing. His steeply erect spear throbbing with virile anticipation, Frank watched as she quickly kicked off her shoes and began unbuttoning her blouse. Her pretty face was quite flushed with an appealing mixture of embarrassment and excitement.

The blouse quickly came off to reveal a tightly packed white brassiere that stood out vividly against her pink flesh. Standing up, she unfastened her blue skirt and quickly stepped out of it, revealing feminine curves outlined in trim white panties and full, shapely, stocking-clad legs. Attired only in her matching white panties and brassiere, black garter belt and dark-brown stockings, she paused for a moment to allow him to inspect her alluring feminine curves. A teasing smile on her hotly flushed face, she kept her eyes riveted on Frank's stiff, hotly pulsating lance.

Frank watched intently as she reached behind her back to unsnap her brassiere. Slowly, she pulled the straps from her shoulders and permitted her full ripe breasts to spill from the cones of the brassiere. The two pink tips, slightly uptilted, stood out vividly against milk-white flesh as the two mounds quivered with their newfound freedom.

"Jeez!" Frank muttered hoarsely, a remark precipitated by the fact that he had suspected that there had been at least some padding in her brassiere.

Elizabeth hooked her slim fingers into the waistband of her white panties and began peeling them downward. Frank could feel his blood-swollen cock aching with erotic tension as the triangular tuft of luxuriantly brown hair, filmy with feminine dew, came into view. The heavy growth of brunette foliage permitted only a teasing display of her pink, sensuously full cuntal lips as she stepped out of her panties.

Completely nude except for her black garter belt and tautly suspendered, dark brown stockings, Elizabeth stood in front of Frank with her arms opened. Her voluptuous body was a lush mixture of feminine curves and contrasts, her narrow, almost tiny, waist emphasizing the lush fullness of her breasts and hips.

"Still want me to leave my stockings on?" she asked with a teasing smile.

"Yes," Frank replied tersely. "C'mere."

Elizabeth stepped forward and their bare bodies melted against one another in a warm embrace. Her soft hands around the back of his neck, the vibrantly warm and obviously highly sexed young woman eagerly pulled his head down to her upturned face. Her mouth was open and their tongues quickly met, flicking and stabbing against one another with little darting movements. Frank's pulsating, rock-hard prick was pressed tightly against her smooth tummy, while her voluptuous, satiny breasts were nearly crushed against his hairy chest.

As their tongues skimmed the insides of one another's mouths, Elizabeth sighed eagerly and submissively in his arms. One small hand slowly came down the side of his masculine body and came to rest on his pulsating, blood-inflated manhood. Her slim fingers worked down to his scrotum, gently cupped his sperm-laden balls for a moment, and then slowly journeyed upward in a provocatively teasing manner, ending with a firm squeeze. The squeeze became progressively more tight and demanding. It was all too apparent that the gorgeous young brunette was simply starved for cock!

At the same time, Frank's hands slowly moved down her warm, smooth back, massaging the tender flesh and pulling her even closer to him. Moving downward, his hands firmly cupped her satiny smooth, girlishly plump buttocks in a firm grip, squeezing and kneading the soft, resilient flesh. How he would love to spank that delightfully feminine bottom of hers! And perhaps he would get that chance, he told himself. Slowly, he slipped his right middle finger into the crevice of her buttocks, and traced a course downward to the small, pink hole. Elizabeth quivered and moaned with a mixture of pleasure and discomfort as he slowly inserted his finger into the narrow channel. Her warm, feminine body wriggled convulsively and pressed even closer to him.