Spies with Benefits

Tara was stomping towards the gym and everyone was careful to move out of her way, sensing how pissed off she was. Quinn was still on an extended vacation - that coward was avoiding her, she was sure of that. What annoyed her was that it seemed to be working. She could already feel her fury fading, and in a week or two she would be reasonable again.

In the meantime she unloaded her irritation on others, usually on the mats, and most people avoided her for that reason. Maybe one of the guys would be there today. They were not as easily thrown around as the women, and one of them might be persuaded to roll with her. This was the Agency Headquarters, so anyone in the gym would likely be an agents and well trained, and that was exactly what she needed. Some controlled violence might take her mind off her problems for a while.

The gym was almost empty at this time, but there were two men there on the mats. They were both pretty average looking, almost forgettable, and that meant they were almost certainly agents. The six feet tall, barrel-chested gorilla look was good for bodyguards, but agents needed to blend in more than anything. The looks were deceiving however, as they would spend as much time training as a typical Special Forces soldier, if not more, and they were fit and lean.

She changed into her grappling clothes, a tight fitting t-shirt and shorts, and she went out on the mats. The two men seemed to have finished their training, but she hoped she might convince one of them do go a few rounds with her. As she approached them, she recognized one of them, Mark, a hand-to-hand combat trainer.

"Hi Mark, whats up?"

Both men turned to her, and Mark waved. "Tara, good to see you. Say, you wouldn't mind giving the rookie here a grappling lesson? I really need to do some other stuff."

"The rookie?" she asked giving the other man an appraising look. He was young, looked to be in his early twenties, an inch or so taller than her, with an agent-lean body.

Mark clapped the younger man on the shoulder. "This is John. John, meet Tara."

"Pleased to meet you, Tara," said John, and then turned to Mark. "Is she good enough to teach me something?"

Her eyes flashed. "I can teach you some humility, boy," she said before Mark could answer, and she noticed with some satisfaction that John straightened when she called him a boy. Showing his weak spot this easily? He definitely had some things to learn.

Mark cracked a huge grin. "You bet she can. Tara, don't damage him too badly, we need him in one piece."

With that he clapped both of them on the shoulders and left for the locker rooms, leaving Tara and John trying to stare each other down. She had to admit the kid had some attitude, and now she was curious if he had some skill to back it up. She broke the stare-down first and went to the center of the mat, and he followed.

"You know, I don't like hitting girls," he said.

"Well that's too bad for you then," she answered, and dropped into a crouch. Then she charged him without warning, slamming her shoulder into his midsection. She grabbed his knees and pulled, making him fall onto his back, knocking his breath out with a loud "oomph". Before he could recover she grabbed his foot and twisted it, making him tap on the mat immediately. She let him go and stood above him, legs wide and fists on her hips.

"Are you learning new things already, or should I turn up the heat a bit?" she asked with a smirk.

He looked at her with a furrowed brow, but instead of answering he scissored her legs with his own and with a quick twist brought her crashing to the mat. She fell face down, bet managed to break her fall somewhat. She didn't have the time to reproach herself about the slip in attention, as he immediately jumped on her, trying to wrap an arm around her neck. She barely managed to grab his arm before he locked in the choke, and she twisted his thumb, making him let go and cry out.

Tara and John returned to kneeling positions opposite each other, each waiting for the other to move first. During their short clash Tara noticed that John was stronger than her, but not as skilled. And of course, he was a man, and so she could use some additional tricks against him, but first, she needed to test how he would react to her unusual tactics.

She feinted, and when he attacked she pulled him forward, and he fell to the mat. She immediately landed on top of him, trying to hold him down, but he was to strong for that. She managed to use his own movement to rotate him onto his back, and immediately dropped on top of him again, mashing her breasts into his face. She was starting to enjoy this, and she hoped John would not turn out to be gay, as she planned some more fun with him later. She felt the wiry muscles under his training uniform, and not much fat, and she liked it.

John was obviously distracted by her maneuver, as he didn't struggle as effectively as he should, and she also noticed a bulge growing in his trouser. Oh yes, he was thinking about more than the fight, that was certain. She wrapped her arms around the back of his neck and used them to press her breasts even harder into his face, cutting off his air supply, and he quickly tapped out.

She let him up and they returned to their initial positions on the mats, opposite each other.

"That was not a typical submission," he said with a raised eyebrow.

Tara looked at him with a smirk. "Hey, whatever works. You tapped in the end."

"You won't catch me again with that trick."

"I wouldn't be so sure of that. And this is not the only trick up my sleeve."

They stood up and faced each other, and then John attacked without warning, tackling Tara and they both went down to the mats with a dull thud. He failed to surprise her however, and she had her legs wrapped around his torso as soon as they were down, preventing him from moving. While her upper body strength might have been lower than his, her legs were something different. She hooked her ankles behind his back and squeeze, causing him to grunt in pain. He tried to pry her legs apart, but his arms were weaker than her legs, especially in this position.

Before he could try a new tactic, she suddenly let him and immediately wrapped her legs around him again, but this time in a modified triangle choke. Modified, because instead of wrapping the legs around his neck, she wrapped them around his head, pressing his face into her crotch, again limiting his ability to breathe. This was not as effective a submission hold as a regular triangle choke would have been, but effectiveness was not her concern.

The only thing separating his mouth and nose from her pussy was now the thin fabric of her shorts, as she was not wearing anything underneath. That this fact did not escape his attention was obvious from his ineffective struggles. In the end he did simply push her legs off his head, and he sat there looking at her with a red face, trying to catch his breath. After letting him go, she remained sitting with her legs open, watching him with a smirk in the corner of her mouth.

"Your technique seems to be lacking, boy. Or are you maybe distracted?" she asked.

"You are using some... unorthodox techniques. I haven't had a chance to adjust."

"Excuses, excuses. You know, in the field you can find all kinds of opponents, and they won't be following any rules," she said and stood up. "Ready for another round, or do you give up, and acknowledge my superiority?"

He narrowed his eyes, and also stood up. "Not on your life. I'll be kicking your ass yet."

This time Tara didn't wait for him, but attacked first instead. He was starting to make his move at the same time, and she caught him off balance, grabbing his arm and throwing him over her shoulder. He landed on his back with a loud slap, and she dropped onto her ass next to him and wrapped her arm around his neck in a headlock. Then she wriggled under him, and wrapped her legs around his midsection to complete the hold.

He struggled, but couldn't free himself, but Tara didn't tighten the hold to force him to submit. Instead, she loosened the leg scissors and slowly worked her way with her feet into his trousers. She then grabbed his underwear with her toes and pulled it down, freeing his cock, which was hard as granite already. He started struggling frantically, but either didn't have the strength or the motivation to pull her feet out of his trousers, and she started running her toes along his shaft. She felt his breath quicken, and his cock start to twitch, and then she stopped and instead applied pressure on his neck again.

"Ready to give up, boy?" she crooned.

He tapped out immediately and she let him go. Then she stood up and placed her foot on his chest, keeping him on the ground.

"If you want to continue, I'll be free in the evening. I'm staying in room 204B. I trust you can find it by yourself."

Then she removed her foot, turned around and left the gym, leaving him on the floor, looking shell-shocked.

Tara was walking back to her room thinking about the exercise she just had, or more precisely about its ending. Or even more precisely about the size of John's cock. She didn't see it, but she explored it with her feet, and it had to be at least seven inches long, maybe eight. After rolling around the mat with John, smelling his sweat and aftershave and feeling his muscles she was so wound up that just the thought of the huge shaft penetrating her was enough to make her flush scarlet every time. She needed to get somewhere private and scratch that itch right away.

The room which she had assigned in the Agency headquarters was small but comfortable. These rooms were meant only for temporary residence, but she always managed to get one with a large bed anyway. You never knew when you might want to share it with someone, and Tara made sure to sleep alone as rarely as possible. A large bed also allowed for some wrestling without the risk of falling out of it. This was a necessity for her, as she liked being dominant, but at the same time wanted her bedfellows to be able to put up some resistance.

In the room she locked the door and went straight to the shower, dropping her clothes along the way. She spent a significant amount of time in the shower, using the shower-head and her fingers to bring her to climax time after time, thinking how she would defeat John again this evening. And defeat was the right word for it, even if the competition would be different. Tara viewed bringing her sexual partner to orgasm against their will as a victory, and only after draining them of energy would she pleasure herself using their body. This caused her relationships to be rather on the short side, but it didn't bother her much. With her job taking her all over the world all the time long-term relationships would be hard to pull off anyway.

By six o'clock she was ready and waiting. She was getting horny again, but didn't do anything about it, as she didn't want to have the room smelling of pussy when he arrived. John probably thought she invited him simply for sex, but he had a surprise coming. He would probably want to assert his dominance after she manhandled him earlier today, and with that cock of his he was probably used to reducing women to a moaning and twitching mess in a matter of minutes. Well, she would quickly disabuse him of that notion. She imagined him lying helplessly under her and shooting his load up to the ceiling, and before she knew it her fingers were in her panties, rubbing frantically until a shiver and then a jolt ran from her core all the way to the tips of her toes and fingers.

She lay there for a moment, panting and chastising herself. Damn it, girl, that's another pair of panties going into the laundry. She got up and dug a new pair from her luggage and changed into them. At least she didn't need to worry about a matching bra, as she wasn't wearing one, only a short robe. She cracked the window open and let in the cold autumn air, and went back to waiting. In retrospect, she should have been more specific about the time, as now she wasn't sure when he would arrive exactly. No matter, that delicious cock of his would belong to her either way.

It was almost ten when the bell at her door sounded, and by that time she had gone trough another three pairs of underwear, and she got tired of changing, so now she was answering the door dressed only in a red satin robe so short that it barely covered her butt. John was waiting on the other side of the door, his black silk shirt and tan slacks accentuating his lean body.

"I hope you like Pinot Noir," he said, gesturing to a bottle of wine in his hand.

She looked him up and down, ignoring the bottle, and licked her lips. "Oh, I'm sure I'll enjoy the taste."

She opened the door wide, inviting him in with a gesture.

"Make yourself comfortable and let me grab some glasses."

She went to the kitchenette, but instead of grabbing the glasses from the upper cupboard, she bent down to rummage in the dishwasher, and grabbed two glasses from there. She put the glasses in the dishwasher earlier with exactly this in mind, and she knew John had gotten a good look at her legs, ass and shaved pussy. When she returned to him, his bulge was threatening to tear his trousers apart, and she smiled as she handed him the corkscrew.

"Here, use this. I hope you're handy with your tools."

He stopped devouring her with his eyes, and took the corkscrew, his touch lingering on her hand for a moment. "I'm sure you won't be disappointed."

John poured them some wine and they sat down on the sofa, drinking.

"So, you wanted to continue our training from before?" asked John looking her in the eyes. He's trying very hard to keep his gaze above my neck, though Tara with some amusement. At least he has some self control, maybe he'll last for a while.

"Not exactly. As you know, agents rarely engage in hand to hand combat, as it is always better to stay incognito than to draw attention. We do however need other, shall we say interpersonal skills. Do you know what a honey trap is?"

He seemed surprised by the question. "A tactic of using romantic or sexual relationships to extract information, induce compliance to requests or gather blackmail material."

"That sounded like a textbook definition, but essentially correct," she said with a wry smile. "The point is often to fuck the target silly until you can control them. That's easy for us, women, to do. Give a good blowjob and the man is yours. Male agents have a bit more difficult job, as they need to reduce the target to a moaning, whimpering mess. Now, the question is, do you have the skills to do it?"

Tara could see he was taken aback by her forward attitude, but he gathered himself quickly.

"No woman ever complained about my skills," he said, looking at her through narrowed eyes. She thought for a moment he was offended, but then she noticed the hint of smile in the corner of his mouth. Cocky, aren't you, Johnny boy.

She continued. "And what if you meet an enemy agent, sent to seduce you? Can you resist her, or maybe even turn her?"

"How would I know that? That depends on many factors."

"Well, there is a way to test it."

He was obviously curious about what she was getting at. "An how exactly can that be done?"

"With a sexfight against an experienced agent," she answered, and leaned back.

He seemed perplexed. "A what now? Sex and fight I understand separately. How are they supposed to go together?"

"Oh, its very simple," she said, holding his gaze. "We wrestle in the bed and try to bring the other person to an orgasm. Whoever get to a climax first, loses. Or we can do best two out of three."

Now John leaned back and looked at her, playing with the wineglass, making the wine inside slosh around in a circle.

"And that's what you want to do now?" he asked in a low tone. "Is this supposed to be some weird exam, or are you just horny?"

"Now, now. If this was a test, would I tell you?"

He shrugged. "On second thought, I don't care. I'll enjoy, how did you put it, reducing you to a whimpering, moaning mess."

"You might be surprised, boy."

"Oh, I already know you are competitive, but I also know I'm stronger than you. If I understand the rules correctly, I just have to wrestle you down until you cant defend yourself, and then I'll have all the time in the world to fuck you silly. No, wait, I think I'll take it slowly, bring you to the edge and make you beg for release. An when you have begged, I'll make you come so hard, you'll squirt all the way across the room."

Oh, yes, he was cocky as hell. Tara knew she would enjoy bringing him down a peg or two. She might even allow him to get her to come once, she wanted to try that huge cock of his after all, but no more than that. She would dominate him and make him lap her pussy obediently by the time the night was done.

"My, my, look at that grin on your face," he said, interrupting her thoughts.

Grin? Yes she was grinning indeed, and hadn't even noticed when it happened. She had to regain control, now. She set her wineglass on the floor next to the sofa and got up, standing in front of him with her left hand on her hip. Then she lifted her right foot and placed it on his crotch, where his cock was still threatening to burst his trousers at the seams.

"Well then, show me what you got, boy," she said looking down on him, and then she went to the bed and knelt on the sheets facing him, her knees spread wide.

John set down his wineglass without a word and stood up from the sofa as well.

He stood in front of her and started to unbutton his shirt, leaving it open while he slowly unbuttoned the sleeves, giving Tara a glimpse of his muscles. She didn't wait for him to finish, but instead unfastened his belt with one hand while massaging the bulge in his trousers with the other.

"Why such a hurry?" he asked, looking down at her.

"Why not? I want your cum on my face right now."

It didn't seem possible, but his trousers got even more strained. She unzipped them and pulled them down just as he finished removing his shirt. He removed his loafers earlier, so now he just stepped out of his trousers, and was left only in his trunks which were stretched to edge of breaking. Tara reached to remove his last piece of clothing, and she was caught off-guard when he grabbed her by the shoulders and pushed her onto her back. Her head bounced off the soft bed distracting her for a moment and her robe became undone, showing her toned body.

Without waiting for her to recover, John grabbed her legs and held her ankles down next to her head, folding her in half. In this position her pussy was right next to his face, and he made use of it by assaulting it with his tongue, licking along her slit, making her gasp. What the hell happened? She was supposed to dominate the rookie, but instead he was licking her to oblivion.

She moaned again and again as John switched to working her clit over. He alternated between licking it in a circular motion, sucking on it lightly and then blowing on it. He would also pause, so that she could not get used to the rhythm, and she felt the heat inside her getting stronger and stronger. Her breath was getting ragged, but it was only the first flutters of the coming orgasm that reminded her that she was supposed to defend herself.

Her hands were free, but she didn't have the leverage to push him of, so instead she sought his cock, which has already escaped from his pants. She started to move her hands up and down the shaft, hoping to distract John. Damn, that cock of his was really huge. Despite herself, she imagined the whole eight inches filling her pussy, stretching it, hitting all the sweet spots inside at the same time, and that thought brought her over the edge.

She screamed, her voice filled with pleasure and frustration in equal measure, and she trembled violently as the orgasm hit her. She felt herself squirting like a fire hydrant, and then suddenly the pressure holding her down was gone, and her legs flopped back to the bed, completely devoid of strength.