DISCLAIMER: The Bond universe is the creation of Ian Fleming. No infringement intended.
CHALLENGE: Written for Passion & Perfection's Big 5000.
ARCHIVING: Only with the permission of the author.
THANKS: To Ann for the beta.
The Bond Manual:
For Super Sexy Spies
Rule Number One: there is always time for sex
The Ambassador's daughter had three things Jane wanted, the plans to her father's secret underground facility, an ice-cold bottle of vermouth and a body burgeoning with all the pent-up promise of a twenty-one year old virgin.
"How does it feel?" Jane asked, sliding her hand along the outside of the girl's thigh. "Being all grown up?"
The girl tried not to let her excitement show, but it wasn't everyday that she was seduced by a smooth talking English woman with a mysterious past. In fact, her father had made damn sure that no one had ever tried to seduce her, much less live to tell about it. "I've been grown up for years," she purred. "You're just the first to notice."
Jane couldn't quite believe the girl's claim. Despite a father who made Bush look like a liberal, the whole city would need to be blind not to notice his daughter's bright blue eyes and gravity defying breasts; the latter of which were pressed firmly into Jane's side, their warmth sending an answering heat to places south. "I'm sure I won't be the last," she prophesied.
The girl smiled in what she hoped was a demure fashion and shimmied until her skirt rose up another few inches to reveal her specially purchased garter-belt. It was a move she'd witnessed on late night television while surfing one of the many programs her father had forbidden her to watch. It was a daring move, but as Jane's hand rose higher, she knew the hours she'd put into practising the manoeuvre had been worthwhile.
"I'm sorry I didn't bring you a present." Jane began to trace the intricacies of lace that lined the garter-belt, her fingers brushing against silky smooth skin with every move. "There must be something I can give you to make up for my little faux pas."
"You..." The girl's voice broke as her mind was bombarded with twenty-one years worth of fantasies. "You could..." Her nerve failed her. "Buy me a drink?"
"You're the one with the vermouth," Jane returned, leaning over the girl's trembling body to retrieve the chilled bottle she had spied earlier. "So, how about I mix us both a martini?"
With a nod, the girl banished her nervousness and then proceeded to cover Jane's hand with her own; the gentle touch turning persuasive as she prompted the hand under hers into motion. "Please."
The martinis forgotten, Jane allowed the girl to believe she was initiating her own seduction as their lips met in the first of many kisses. The blueprints for the super, top-secret underground lair would still be there in the morning, and until then, it was Jane's duty, as a Bond, to help the Ambassador's daughter discover the true beauty of being a Bond-girl.
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