Jake would share what details of the bust he wanted to with me, and while he didn't have to, he said he felt like I deserved to know. For the first time since we started working together I felt that he appreciated me for more than just queer bait.
The Japanese had monitored enough of the conversations picked up by the wire to know that something was being planned for the blonde. Apparently he was slipping them incoming shipping manifests for the military sea transports docking at Naha. They were using the information to plan rip offs and hijackings on the pier. It had worked quite well, and investigators assigned to the case had suspected the blonde, who worked for one of the shipping companies. Routine questioning had spooked the kid, and he was threatening to finger his Soko Gaki friends in return for immunity from prosecution if they didn't pay him off to get out of town. That hadn't sat well with them, and after he rejected a few of theirlow ball counter offers, they had decided to get rid of him. Permanently. It all came to a head that night.
Apparently Kino was the ring leader and, after making arrangements for me to be sidetracked in the toilet with his friend, four of them held the boy down while Kino broke a baseball bat and shoved it up the kid's ass. That was the scream I heard. They were going to turn his intestines into mince meat with the jagged end of the bat, and after they had their fun with him, shoot him in the head. Just like they did the transvestite.
They did know how to make a statement.
Only my message to Jake spoiled their plan. In Jake and the cops came like the cavalry and busted it up. Kino and another two Japanese escaped in the confusion and the Japanese police were trying to identify and track them down. They raided Kino's house and what they found there was mind numbing. The Soko Gaki had detailed records on at least 14 Americans who frequented the bar. Names, rank, serial numbers, jobs, everything. They were either soliciting or black mailing at least 10 of the 14, and had plans to exploit all 14. My name was there, not much else except for where I worked and what I did. Jake's guess was that they would have tried to 'turn' me as a supply of intelligence information from Torii. So much for Kino's affection. It was all part of his act to gain my confidence and exploit me. And while I was crushed by the fact that he had just been using me, I was comforted by the fact that the truth just may have saved my life. I was so pliant where Kino was concerned I'm sure I would have betrayed my country for him. Maybe Jake had been right. My kind did make easy targets for them. We couldn't help it.
The bust had netted a large Soko Gaki 'cell' and probably put it out of business. It would take them years to recover from it. All in all, a huge feather in Jake's cap, and a huge accomplishment for his career.
But it spelled the end of the road for me. At least on Okinawa.
"You're spoiled goods" Jake explained over a cup of coffee in his office "you'll be on their hit list as soon as they figure out that it was you who fingered them. And they'll figure it out as soon as those guys in jail begin circulating what happened thru the grapevine. As soon as that guy who's dick you nearly bit off gets out of the hospital he's going to rat to his friends in jail for sure." I remembered the taste of blood. I knew it hurt, and I was damned glad I did it.
"What...what do I do?" I questioned.
"It's more like what do we do. We got you into this, we'll get you out. I talked it over with the chief, and we both agreed that the best thing to do is get you out of the far east before they can get to you. The chief's on to Europe. They're interested in using you there to help clean up some concerns they have."
"Like...like here?" I asked. Somehow I knew the answer before I asked the question.
"Yeah, pretty much" he didn't sound very convincing.
"Jake...I can't do that anymore. I mean, well, I mean I understand what I agreed to, and I did it. OK? But I just can't go on deceiving GI s. I'd, well, I'd rather take the court marshal and be done with it. At least I could have my life back."
"What about the bad guys?" I was surprised at how calmly he reacted to my refusal. I had expected him to rant and rave and threaten.
"What about them?"
"You wanna let the bad guys keep exploiting homos? Getting them into situations where the only way out is a long brig sentence or one between the eyes?"
"Bullshit Jake. You know that court marshalling gays, one at a time, isn't going to get the bad guys. You said it yourself, there were 14 guys already in the clutches of the Soko. How many of them were already being exploited? How long do you think it would take me to 'out' them. One at a time Jake. One at a time. I think you're going after the wrong end of the food chain. You should be busting the bad guys. Then you wouldn't have to worry about fairies being exploited now would you?" I was serious. This experience had shook me to the point that I no longer believed it was the gays 'fault'. Bad guys were bad guys. Period.
"Just settle down now. We worked this thing with the only option we had. You. And we stumbled on to the Soko and that worked. Europe is different. It's not an island like Okinawa with as many servicemen and it doesn't have to be worked the same way. They've got a hell of a lot of bad guys there and they have a better hook on who they are. Are you telling me that you'd go along with it if they targeted the bad guys instead of the faggots? No offence."
"None taken" I shot back "and yes. That's the one and only way I would agree." My forcefulness seemed to take him aback, and I could see the wheels turning in his head as he stared at me.
"And you would seriously consider taking a dishonorable discharge?"
"Damn straight I would." I could see the worried look in his face now. What was that all about? What the hell did he care about one homosexual, more or less.
"Look" he began in a low serious tone "I don't approve of what you do...sex, I mean. But I figure that's your problem. To tell you the truth, you're valuable to us. What you've done, I mean, well it would have taken us months, years maybe, to get inside an operation like that. There's no way we could have done it without someone like you, someone who can get inside and be trusted. And the only way to be trusted in a situation like that...."
"Is to be a genuine queer. Like me, right?"
"Yeah, right" he admitted.
"And outing servicemen, that's addition, right? One at a slow time. But getting enough information to bust the bad guys, well that's multiplication, right?"
"Yeah, multiplication" he seemed to like the analogy.
"Well, I'll agree to cooperate on multiplication. You can find somebody else to work on your addition." I was serious. I don't know where this resolve came from, but as long as I had it, I would use it.
"Awright. I'll take it to the chief and see what he wants to do. Can't promise shit, but I'll give it my best." Somehow I knew Jake enough to believe he meant what he said. And somehow I think Jake knew I meant what I had said.
-*-
"Target just entered the lobby. Looks like he's heading for the bar. Perk up Mary, you're on." the voice in my earpiece jerked me back into the present reality of today. I was sitting in a London hotel bar, and my target was on his way in. I had work to do.
"Hold one. Target's going to the head." I relaxed and waited for an update from the 'spotter' who was located behind the front desk, posing as a hotel employee.
This was a far cry from the shoe string budget photo stings Jake ran. This was upscale and professional. Amazing what money can buy when money's not the object. If taxpayers realized the expense involved in intelligence gathering they would probably revolt. We were sure going thru it like water.
Jake had worked out the deal for me, I would relocate to Europe and 'cooperate' with intelligence gathering here. Cooperate? They had me by the proverbial 'balls'. The threat of a dishonorable discharge still hung over me like the sword of Damocles, but the nature of the stings took on a different character. I was loaned out on temporary assignments to any and all intelligence agencies of the US and allies to assist in 'special' circumstances that required a person of my 'talents'. Directly put, I was useful in situations concerning targets with suspected homosexual, bisexual, or bi curious tendencies. I would, as one of my more poetic handlers put it, 'boldly go where no man would go' to gain information, incriminating or otherwise, in an effort to thwart the aims of certain countries or organizations. These stings were labeled 'Operation Queer Bait' and my specialty was 'it takes one to catch one'. Much like what I had done for Jake, only we were chasing the really bad guys.
I had been in the service of my country for two years now and gone was the innocent belief that targets were anything but targets. They were business to be dealt with. And forgotten. Business only.
"Target's headed for the bar. Show time" the voice crackled, signaling that the wait was over. "Black suit, looks like Armani, shoes black loafers, probably Gucci. Gold pinkie ring, looks expensive.You got a dandy Mary." I removed the tiny earpiece from my ear with one demure swipe of my hand, palmed it, and had it in my pocket before he cleared the bar entrance. Just like I had been trained. Practice makes perfect.
He was at least six feet tall, a little overweight as middle easterners can be, with short, jet black hair. His facial features were average, with a pencil thin mustache that made him look like a bad guy. But he was dressed...well, he looked the part of money.
He was an air attache of the Libyan air force, Bin something or other, in London for one of the 'diplomatic' visits he made every few months. More like he met regularly to feed money and instructions to several splinter IRA groups who operated in the UK. But he had other interests, or so my handlers seemed to think, and that's where I came in to the picture. I was on loan to a combination operation by the CIA and MI5 for the purpose of 'getting a peak into his bag', as the English put it, both literally and figuratively.
The sexual innuendo couldn't be more clear. His gaze swept over me as he walked past on his way to the bar. As his eyes met mine, my response couldn't be more clear either, and I caught him glancing over his shoulder as he sat at the bar sipping what appeared to be a gin and tonic. I always took the opportunity to return his stare, and before too long it was obvious where this was heading.
"From the gentleman at the bar" the lisping waiter said as he sat a fresh glass of champagne in front of me.
"Which one?" I played along.
"The butch Arab there in the Armani" he sounded breathless as he motioned toward the mark.
"O god, he is good looking, isn't he?" why not empathize with the poor boy, he wasn't going to get any of the action tonight. At least not any of this action.
"Umhuh" he exaggerated, "good luck."
"Thanks" I said to the waiter, raising my glass in the direction of the bar and mouthing the word again. He nodded and turned back to his drink.
But not for long. The crowd in the bar was ebbing and flowing as people and groups came and went. During the next lull, he made his way over to my table.
"Care if I join you?" he asked "I just hate to drink alone."
"Please do" I replied looking up at him with one of those 'I'm available' looks. I could be so obvious when I wanted to.
"I hope you don't mind" he began. His accent was a comparatively mild for a middle easterner, more like an actor. "It's just that, well to be honest, I noticed you sitting here alone. And...I do dislike drinking alone."
"To tell you the truth, I was tired of sitting here alone too. And to be honest, I don't like drinking alone either."
"Then it is settled. Since neither of us like drinking alone, we'll have a drink together. American?"
"Canadian actually" I lied. Everyone seemed to trust Canadians.
"Lovely country. I've visited there several times. What are you doing in London?"
"Oh, just seeing the sights" I continued to lie. I was good at that too.
"Ah yes, the sights. But all by yourself?"
"Most of the time, yes." I was trying to be coy. It seemed to open up more possibilities if I didn't have some pat storyline to follow. I was good at improvising.
"Ah, I see. And when you're not alone?" Now he was getting somewhere.
"I'm with...someone" I deliberately drew out the words to see if I could pique his curiosity. Apparently I did, as his eye brow went up immediately.
"And so tonight...is it to be alone, or with someone?"
"Well, so far it's been alone. But now, well...." I let my voice rise a half octave to accentuate the possibilities.
"Now you're with me" he finished the sentence for me "and since you seem to enjoy fine champagne, could I offer you a night cap in my suite? I'll have a bottle sent up. And I have a wonderful view of Hyde Park. You could enjoy the, uh, sights."
Bingo. Time to real him in.
"Something tells me that the sights aren't all you have in mind." I looked him straight in the eye. And winked.
"I had the feeling, when I first saw you sitting here, that you were the kind of young man who might appreciate what I have in mind."
"Um..." I sighed "I think, just maybe, you're right."
"Shall we?" he asked, standing and indicating toward the bank of elevators just outside the bar entrance.
"Why not" I shot back emphatically, and we both laughed at the Laurel and Hardy ness of the whole thing.
I ditched the earpiece radio in the potted plant next to the bar entrance and nodded almost imperceptively to the 'bellman' who walked by, our prearranged signal that I had made contact and was going 'under' with the mark. Under had several meetings, the first of which was that I had left the radio behind and would have no other contact with my handlers. I was, in a word, on my own here. Whatever happened next, was between the mark and me, totally. There was no monitoring now, I was expected to go with him and get whatever information I could from the list of things my handlers had briefed me on. They had a list of wants. I had to do my best to fill that list.
But these were professionals. They understood patience and that sometimes you had to have a lot of it to work into a relationship necessary to get all the questions answered. 'Getting the goods' as Jake called it. Most of these marks were very intelligent. And very suspicious. It may take half dozen meetings to be at the point where I could ferret out all this intelligence. And that was the only part I still had trouble with.
Ever since my disastrous experience with Kino, I tried to distance myself from the mark. Not physically of course. I had to respond physically. But emotionally it was only about the pleasure sex brought. No strings. No attachment. Just fulfilling my hedonistic tendencies for gratification, both giving and getting.
I gave up trying to fool myself about what I was doing, and why, two years ago. I was good at the sex part of my job because I enjoyed it. Being a sexual plaything for men came natural because it was, at least for me. I wanted it, I was good at it, and I enjoyed it more than anything else in life. In fact, I couldn't seem to get enough of it, which had caused some problems with a few of my handlers. But I didn't let that bother me anymore, I had learned to take it in stride.
The other part they taught me. And they taught me well. Lack of morals seemed natural to me, and the deception, lying, and stealing suited me fine. I don't know if I expected to parlay these skills into a career or not, but for now I was content to do what they wanted.
The suite was impressive, on the top floor of the hotel with a panoramic view of Hyde Park, far below. I showered and gave myself an anal douche while we waited for room service to deliver a fresh bottle of champagne. I recognized the operative who delivered it and we both refrained from making any kind of eye contact.
We sat on the couch, sipping champagne and watched the car lights passing below us. Hyde Park seemed to be a sea of darkness in a city alight. Assad, as he called himself, prattled on about his many visits to London and all the sights he had seen. I played the attentive bimbo, making polite conversation full of 'oohs' and 'aahs' as he talked on about himself. To tell you the truth, I could have cared less, and was near the point of terminal boredom by the time he slipped his arm around my shoulders. That perked me up, and I responded by nestling my head on his shoulder as he pulled me closer. My hand went to his thigh in an exploratory move that was accepted as it was offered. He spread his legs slightly and pulled my hand to his crotch, where I felt the stirring of his excitement. I ran my hand up and down the front of his trousers and felt him stiffen in response to my attention.
Assad pushed my hand away gently as he unbuttoned his trousers and pulled them down past his knees. He wasn't wearing underwear and I was greated by the sight of his massive cock, at least ten inches of uncut dark meat that immediately set my mouth to watering in anticipation of what I knew lay ahead. I brought my hand up again and let my fingers play lightly down the semi hard shaft toward the massive ballsack that lay below.
He would have none of this foreplay, and he pushed me roughly off the couch and into the floor, where I knelt in front of him and helped him off with his shoes and trousers. As he spread his legs before me, I crawled between them and turned my head to lick along the inside of his left thigh, working my way slowly up until my tongue was at his pubic hair. I licked and kissed the soft skin beneath the hair as I worked my way to the base of his penis, leaving a glistening trail of saliva as my tongue traced down the center of his ballsack and separated the huge nuts where they rested on the couch. I slid my tongue under his ballsack and sucked one nut partially in my open mouth. The taste was enough to make me swoon, and I eagerly licked and sucked on the mass in front of me. Bringing a hand up, I cupped both of them in it and lifted the sack off the couch to get more of the ball in my mouth. I used my tongue to caress it as my lips sucked more and more of it inside. The aroma of his manliness filled my nostrils and transported me higher up the curve of sexual excitement.
Assad was, as I have come to recognize from experience, one of those 'real' men. The macho types who enjoy, no make that who need, to be in complete charge during sex. Those men who instruct, guide, and more importantly, control every aspect of the act. The kind of man who made being used enjoyable. I sensed that I was going to enjoy this.
Working my mouth back up the front of his sack to the base of his cock, I extended my tongue to lick at the base, tasting the slightly acrid cologne he seemed to be wearing down there. I continued my licking, working slowly up his cock shaft while keeping a light grip on his balls.
"Suck my dick, you whore" he instructed. It excited me to be talked to that way, and I didn't need to be told twice. I brought my open mouth down on the foreskin encased head and took the first two inches inside. Now my taste buds were on fire with the enjoyable sensation of finally having some of this monster inside my mouth, and I worked my tongue in tiny cirlces around the top to coax the head from it's sheath. Imagine my delight when the head popped free of the foreskin and increased the total length by another inch. This man had a big cock, and it was going to take all of my considerable talent to take all of it. But try I did, and within a few minutes of determined cocksucking, I had over half of it inside, the head just past my gag reflex and into my open throat. I paused for a second, gulping air thru my nose, before pushing down hard and forcing another few inches down my thoat. As I continued to impale myself on this rigid hunk of man meat, more and more of it slipped thru my lips and the thought occurred to me that the head was at least half way to my stomach now. As my air gave out, I slowly raised my head, withdrawing til just the head was in my mouth. His cock was glistening wet from a combination of saliva and precum, and as I plunged down again, disstending my throat in the process, I was able to take him all inside til my nose was mashed in the rough kink of his pubic hair. As if in appreciation, Assad brought his hands down to the nape of my neck and massage it as my head slowly bobbed up and down in a deepthroated blowjob.
He let me suck him for a few minutes more, then pulled my head up, stood, and walked to the bedroom. Without a word, he led me. Without a word, I followed him, til I stood in the doorway of the massive master bedroom. A large cirular bed, raised of the floor at least three feet, dominated the center of the room, with another set of curving windows facing in the direct of Harrod's department store. As I surveyed the opulense that was to be our playpen tonight, he stripped. He was a big man, not fat, big. At least six feet tall, with a fairly well proportioned body. His North African complexion presented a start contrast to the creamy decor of the bedroom, and accentuated his size. His most prominent feature stood proudly in front of him, rock hard and, by my estimation, twelve beautiful inches of solid cock.
Over the last two years my tastes had expanded to the point that I appreciated all aspects of sex with men, but the sight of his massive cock caused my ass to twitch in anticipation, and I knew that a blowjob was just a preliminary to the main event. I could feel my spincter relaxing in self defense and a warm glow creeping up my entire anal cavity as I imagined giving up what he wanted.
"How do you want me?" I asked, slipping out of my robe and letting it drop to the floor at my feet.
"On the bed, here" he replied, indicating the edge farthest from the windows. I stepped over the robe and sat on the edge as instructed. The spread felt cool against my naked bottom. Assad ripped open a condom pack and handed the contents to me as he stepped forward, his stiff cock just inches from my face. I positioned the condom in my mouth so the tip was facing inward, and brought it to the end of his cock. As he stepped in toward me, I pushed the roll down his shaft with my lips as more and more of his penis slipped inside my mouth. When the tip reached the entrance to my throat, I pulled back and rolled the rest of it on him with my fingers.
"You've talent" he said, sounding impressed with my oral prowess.
"Practiced" I said simply.
"And this talent" he continued "at what price?"
"Price?" I tried to sound innocent.
"All English boy-whores ask for money." he sounded so sure of himself that I couldn't resist that I couldn't resist the temptation to play cat and mouse with him.
"Ha. You've obviously not frequented the parks and cottages much. Besides, I'm not English, remember? I'm Canadian."
"I've been to the parks. I know what goes on there. But this is not a simple blow job. This is to be a fuck like your bitch ass has never had before." God, this guy was conceited. But I had to admit that by the size of his cock, I hoped he was right.
"Well, if that's true, how could I possibly ask for money?" I said, smiling up at him as I laid back on the bed, spreading my legs as I did.
Assad spread lube on the condom as I adjusted myself on the bed til my ass was just at the edge. I pulled my legs up to rest my feet on the edge as he moved to me. He lifted my legs at my knees and pushed back til they were folded on either side of my chest and my pink button was tilted up at an inviting angle. He bent slightly at the knees to bring his penis in line with my hole, and the sensation of cold lube on my hot pucker made me catch my breath.
I had been fucked regularly during the past two years, both on and off the job, and took medium to large cocks without a problem. But Assad's cock was big, probably the largest I had ever had, and the sharp pain that originated in my sphincter and ran down my legs caused me to cry out. But it only took a brief second for me to relax. I had learned that pushing out helped ease the pain and help me relax, and before I could cry out again, the pain was replaced by the first, unmistakable signs of acceptance. My sphincter relaxed and stretched to receive him as he slid a few inches inside me. He hesitated, pulled out slightly, and then pushed slowly back in, first an inch, then two, then maybe six. I could feel my muscles giving way quickly to the point that they weren't effectively doing anything but providing friction as the lube worked its magic.
I moaned in pleasure as my insides reacted to the all too familiar feeling of a man invading my most inner sanctum. I could feel myself letting go, losing all control. Focusing only on the pleasure Assad's cock unlocked in me. I couldn't think a single rational thought as I concentrated only on giving him pleasure as he pleasured me.
Some people say that queers are born, not trained. If anyone was born to do this, it was certainly me, and as the waves of passion and pleasure washed over me, I couldn't imagine wanting anything as much as this.
Assad pushed my legs back until my knees were nearly at my head, thrusting his cock in and out of me faster and faster. His thrusts reached far inside me now, and I began to feel the ultimate stimulation as his cock head repeatedly brushed against my sensitive prostate. He would bring me to an anal orgasm, I knew it, and I welcomed it when it came, sending wave after wave of the most intense pleasure I craved. My climax sent a thick stream of semen arcing across my stomach and drenching me in its warm wetness. I didn't come down, even after I shot my load, as Assad furiously fucked me til, after what seemed like hours, he stiffened and I felt the warmth as he filled the condom with his ejaculate. He took another dozen or so thrusts until he finally softened and pulled out, being careful to make sure the condom came out too.
"I want your cum" I whispered as he lay, panting, beside me. At first he looked puzzled, but then a look of understanding seemed to spread across his face as he came up on his knees beside my head. pulling the condom off, and offered me his wet cock. I took it quickly in my mouth cleaned the tasty remnants of his orgasm from it, enjoying the taste of his manhood.
"More?" he asked as I pulled his cock from my mouth and lay back.
"Umhuh" I sighed, breathless, and watched him dangle the condom, upside down, over my mouth. As I opened wide and stuck out my tongue, Assad squeezed the condom between his fingers and pulled down, forcing a thick stream of cum out the open end and into my waiting mouth. As air mixed with his semen, it gave it a strong, rancid taste. From experience I had learned that taking cum from a man's penis into my mouth was more of a sensation than a taste. But letting it stand for a time enriched the taste to near disgusting levels. I had developed a 'taste' for really strong semen to the point that I often jacked off in a glass and ate it later.
Who says you can't have your fuck and eat it too?
To be continued lesli99@hotmail.com