Window Shopping Ch. 03

In the Steal of the Night

James bounced down a maze of service corridors, past a few boutique employees, and over to his hideout. This job was turning into his best ever—too bad it would be his last. The thrill of the cat and mouse while he outsmarted those around him was a hard high to match. But James knew better than most that this life wasn't suited for long term employment—one detail, one slip, one loss of focus would land you dead or worse. This would be his last job; win or lose it had to be—James couldn't afford any more daring heists for the FBI to profile him with.

James swiped into his "forward base," the same break room he had the pleasure of taking Sandi in. With his modifications it was moderately secure and James was ok leaving some of his encrypted data out. But the good stuff was well hidden. He lifted the drop ceiling and crawled into the overhead. After shimmying across a few rafters he gathered the rest of his gear and headed towards the ventilation shaft he had found.

After quickly rigging a rope system, James descended the vertical shaft nearly 100 feet, emptying onto a steel girder. The tunnel he dropped into was pitch black. Pitch black is hard to describe to people who've never seen it. You lose perspective of your own hand relative to space. You can't discern if the breathing you hear is your own, or someone standing still in front of you. You can amble through the darkness, but no better than a blind man who knows he's about to walk off a cliff. That's when your other senses flood in.

Your hearing amplifies; James could hear the blood rushing through his body. Each pulse sounded like a torrent of water breaking against a jetty. His gear rustled as nylon webbing swayed under his weight; his boots creaked and his watch ticked. Tiny patterns of water echoed against the slick black walls. Small animals scurried about and faint whisperings of men's voices lofted so soft that James was convinced he imagined them.

Your sense of smell becomes primary; the smell of damp mold floods in first. Then the pungent odor rotting detritus and excrement—dead fish, mice, refuse. Every now and then a metallic taste rings through the air followed by a waft of oil and degreaser.

James lit his hand torch, a 2000 lumen LED that was guaranteed to illuminate the blackest of nights. The polished concrete walls reflected an iridescent green as they fought to shine through 50 years of slime.

He checked his PDA. The schematic he found showed a vault up ahead, but there was no guarantee that was accurate—whether it was ever there or simply filled in during construction. James knew any slip up would mean no one would find his corpse for centuries—but with great risk there's great reward. He took a deep breath and started forward.

After an eternity of ambling through the eerie tunnel James came across his prize—a 100 ton vault door that sealed a defunct command room from the rest of the tunnels. If he could get access to this room, he'd have free reign over anything stored above it, namely the entire mall—secure transactions, jewelry, banks... even free cable. Time to nut up or shut up.

*Bzzz Bzzz*

"What the..." James felt around his tactical vest for his phone.

The vibrant screen lit up the corridor as it flickered to life.

"Ah, jeeze," he murmured to himself.

"Hey, it's Sandi :) want to meet up? I'm catching the late show at the drive-in," it read.

So much for a lack of distraction he thought. James checked the time before texting back—5 hours should be plenty to finish his work, he thought.

"I can make the midnight show," he typed back

"Sounds good! Text me when you're here :) "

James replaced his cell and refocused on the task at hand. He would have to work fast to keep his date, but in his line of work, speed often caused mistakes. James went back to the old motto, "slow is smooth, smooth is fast."

The vault door was a bomb proof entrance designed to save whoever stole behind it from whatever horrors waited on the outside. Some of the bunkers created in the cold war were wonders of modern engineering. Thankfully, this wasn't one of those wonders; the designers hadn't thought to give the same level of protection to the walls as they did the door. This particular door used a 16-bit encryption key that, at the time, was state of the art. Now it was little more than a magnetic doorstop—but a doorstop that hadn't had power in 50 years, none-the-less. The easiest way inside was through the wall.

Fifty years in the damp environment had softened the rebar reinforced concrete to the point where a decent sledge hammer would chip through it. A cut-off saw with composite blade would make short work of the rebar—but all of that was manpower and time intensive.

"Ain't nobody got time for that," James chuckled to himself as he set his gear down and retrieved a series of rods and detonators from the satchel.

James placed a thermite shape-charge on the wall and wound det-cord down the corridor to a safe alcove. With the spark of a motorcycle battery, the fuse lit and a small THWUMP signaled it was safe to check on his handiwork.

The explosive had burned a 3'x3' hole into the reinforced concrete wall, giving James access to the vault.

Stale air surged into the damp corridor. James consulted his ToxiRAE to ensure the air was still breathable: 20% oxygen, no organic volatiles or LELs. Not ideal, but not a problem for someone in good physical condition. He pressed on.

James crawled into the vault—untouched by humans since the 60's. It was a veritable time capsule of cathodes and cobwebs. A quick scan showed the room to be in decent condition with several desks and outdated electrical panels dotting what was once a bustling command center. James set to work splicing wires and running cables—powering up remote sensors and installing his network into the framework of the abandoned silo. Several hours passed by before his command center was up and running.

With one last flip of a toggle, the room came alive with computer monitors and fluorescent lighting.

Screens flickered to life and his graphic interface displayed every security camera from the mall above. James scanned around until he found the high priority shops—those with assets or transactions in excess of $1 million per month.

The anticipation of the score was palpable in James' chest.

After setting the loop protocols he began scanning the remaining monitors for signs of guard activity. He was surprised to see very little—maybe two or three guards actually patrolling their beat, while the rest remained off screen doing who knows what. This could prove even easier than he hoped.

Of the guards that did patrol, one caught his eye in particular. It was the Hispanic guard from the coffee shop. She was casually roaming through Dick's Sporting Goods, taking time to try each piece of athletic equipment and thumb through the various articles of clothing. After a while she came to a stop and looked around to ensure she was alone.

James leaned forward in his makeshift chair.

She quickly began unbuttoning her uniform shirt and peeling back layers of clothing. After stripping to her bra and panties the guard pulled clothes from the rack and began trying them on. Shirts and shorts and pants—loose cotton and snug lycra.

James stared intently at the monitor—the guard's curves accentuated the latest in sports fashion. Her black hair faded into the background; her firm body shone brightly in the night vision security feed; her muscles rippled through the cool air and her breasts heaved with each breath. She unclipped her bra and allowed her ample chest to bathe in the dark store air.

James zoomed in for a better view of her perfect bosom—delicious boobs that hung in the air with just a slight amount of sag under their own weight. She continued trying on sports bras, tucking and freeing her boobs several times. Every new bra seemed to take her longer and longer to adjust; after a while she started losing interest in the bras entirely and played more with her nipples than the clothing.

A quick flash around the room to verify she was still alone and the guard slid her panties off as well.

James remained riveted to the monitor, hardly able to believe his luck. The guard sat and began stroking herself, slowly at first, but building in fervor. Her breasts jiggled slightly with each stroke of her shaved pussy; her toned muscles bristled with effort—she furrowed her brow and bit her lip.

James only wished he had the audio to go with the show; he could just imagine her dripping wet pussy churning with pleasure as she screamed closer to orgasm. Her body glistened with a light bead of sweat in the night vision feed.

Finally the Latin goddess shuddered and clamped her legs shut; after a long pause she relaxed and slumped backward—her legs went limp and splayed open, giving a perfect view of her cute pussy. A few more moments went by before the guard began cleaning her mess and redressing in her dark uniform. She meticulously replaced each article of clothing and scanned the area for any sign of her mess. James was a little disappointed that the show wasn't longer, but grateful for the break so he could make his date.

He opened the video feed and erased the last 30 minutes of that camera—instead installing a loop of the empty store with matching time stamp. He flicked his equipment to automatic monitoring mode headed topside for a shower and change.

Thirty five minutes later James was pulling into the crushed gravel lot of a second-run drive in. He paid his fee in cash and pulled off to the side of the parking lot. James retrieved a bag of electronic goodies and after some fiddling he managed to ping Sandi's cell phone. He drove until her truck was in sight and then found a decent spot to park—one with quick access to an exit and an OK view; he was just a few spaces back from Sandi's truck, a beat up black 4Runner.

"Here," read his text.

"Ok! I'm in lot E, row 12. Black 4Runner about 3 in from the end."

"Be there soon."

James waited a few more minutes before exiting his car and approaching the 4Runner from behind. He scanned the lot for anything that seemed out of place as he grew nearer the passenger side of the SUV.

He could just barely see Sandi in the front seat of the SUV, her soft features basking in the glow of both the movie screen and her iPhone. She seemed to be fidgeting while attempting to wait patiently and casually glancing around every so often.

James made sure he was visible to the anxious teen—as not to startle her—and knocked softly on the passenger window. Sandi smiled wide and leaned over to unlock the door, allowing him in.

James sat in the refreshingly cool AC and held out a small bouquet of flowers for Sandi while he shut the door behind him.

"Thank you!" She beamed.

Sandi was dressed in a strappy white dress decorated with vibrant splashes of floral print. Her breasts were cropped enticingly by the dress, which flowed loosely around her slender frame. Her pale blonde hair was pinned back by a teal hair band and allowed her gorgeous face to shine bright in the blue tint of the movie intermission screen.

"They're beautiful," she proclaimed while still smiling.

"Just like you—and they match your dress," James replied warmly, causing the 20 something to blush.

"What've you been up to?" Sandi asked.

"Ah, not much. Just loitering around the mall and trying to get some work done."

"Picking up more baristas, huh?"

"No, just the one barista, actually," James replied coolly at the half truth.

"Well I hear that barista has never done anything like that before."

"Oh, do you?"

"Yes. And have you?"

"No, I haven't heard that," James responded with a smirk.

"Have you hooked up with a stranger before!" Sandi slapped James on the arm with a giggle.

"I have—but only when I really like them; or they spill hot chocolate on me."

"Ha. You spilled it on yourself, Mr. Mr... James? What's your last name? I don't even know your full name!" Sandi exclaimed.

James' expression went blank and he stared sternly into Sandi's playful eyes. Her features suddenly became less jovial, beginning to regret the question.

"Bond, James Bond." James replied with a solemn face.

"It isnot!" Sandi yelped in a high pitched tone of amusement.

The couple rolled in laughter at the ice breaker before finally calming down. More small talk ensued about work, and school and local hot spots. Favorite teams and ice cream flavors, job interviews and worst dates. Finally the screen flickered indicating the second movie was about to start: The Pink Panther (1963).

They sat enthralled by the 60's-chic nostalgic crime mystery—the lovable but laughable Inspector and the suave Sir Charles. Every so often they would remark about the clothing or scenery, and a little more often they exchanged sideways glances. Somewhere during the ski outing they began holding hands. And during the bedroom masquerade they began kissing—small pecks at first, but growing increasingly heated.

James pulled Sandi's chin towards him and gently held her face while kissing. Each lengthy kiss was planted deliberately to entice her into wanting more. He suckled and gingerly bit her lips before working down her chin and neck, breathing in her sweet vanilla scent. Each time he kissed he savored the sweet and salty taste of her skin. He could hear her breathing getting heavier.

His hand slowly slid from her face, down her elegant neck, and to her heaving chest. He cupped her braless breast and massaged it gently, only separated by a thin strip of floral print. He used his thumb to circle her nipple until it poked stiffly into the thin cotton.

Sandi ached to embrace him. Her nipples were hard and she could feel her pussy moistening with anticipation. She reached over and groped his cock through his pants, massaging the length of the member and working the zipper at the same time. After a few minutes she was able to free his cock and grip it steadily in the now steamy SUV.

James took his cue to loosen her top and suckle her breasts; each nipple rolled in his mouth and begged for more attention. He slipped his hands between her legs and rode her skirt to her hips—he was pleasantly surprised to find her pussy was already slick and panty-less. He moistened his fingers and continued exploring her tight slit with his strong hands.

Sandi moaned softly at the warm teasing and tightened her grip on James' cock, pumping it steadily while she enjoyed his tongue and fingers. She could feel his cock, swollen and firm, pulsing with each of her ever faster strokes.

James slowed her hand down and moved it between her own legs.

"Mmm—wh—what's the matter?" Sandi questioned between kisses.

"Not a thing," James whispered as he began masturbating Sandi with her own hand, lubing her with her own juices.

"You're kinky as fuck," Sandi moaned at the soft pressure of her own fingers.

James replaced her hand on his cock, now slick with her juices, and allowed her to continue her handjob. It didn't take much more of her slippery stroking to send James to climax.

Sandi broke their kiss and leaned over the seat; she wrapped her cute mouth around his thick cock and pumped a few more times while swirling his head with her tongue.

James surged over the edged and pulsed wave after wave of thick cum into her mouth. Sandi eagerly allowed the warm, salty taste to fill her mouth while she milked her new found lover. After his orgasm subsided she slowly withdrew from his crotch and swallowed the load in one gulp.

"Didn't want to make a mess," Sandi offered.

"Good girl," James sighed and smiled while she licked her lips.

After a few moments he leaned her back against the driver's door, for better access to her still swollen cooch, and resumed stroking it. He took her hand and groped her breast with it and after a while lowered his head to her moist slit; she continued to play with her nipples while James lapped at her slit. Her moist pussy was slick with her sweet and tangy fluid. Her tiny lips glistened in the front seat of the SUV while he gently lapped at each fold.

"Mmm," Sandi moaned softly.

An extra hand to her clit punctuated the dutiful rhythm of his heavenly tongue. He could feel her contracting around his tongue and grinding her hips to his face. James slipped a wet finger inside and massaged the top of her g-spot, building her tempo even more.

"Oh God, keep going," she whispered huskily.

Her throbbing pussy was glued to James' mouth while her crescendo built. The warm slushing and steady pulsing lit her loins on fire; each moment that passed surged more pleasure into her dripping wet pussy until her orgasm teetered on edge.

"MMMM!" Sandi was droning through her pressed lips, oblivious to her moans as her impending orgasm rose.

A final press into her g-spot and her dam broke; Sandi felt her whole body flex and clamp down on James as she flooded his face with her slippery sweet cum. A torrent of clear fluid gushed into James' mouth and over the leather seat. He caught small puddles and smeared them over her disheveled body and under her ruffled clothes.

While her orgasm subsided James continued kissing and licking her cum from her sweaty body until he reached her mouth. He sloshed what remained into her wet kiss and held her close while her breathing evened out.

He pressed her hand to his crotch to signal they weren't done just yet—Sandi could feel his cock stiffening against her cool skin and her pussy twitched back to life.

"Already!?" Sandi proclaimed with a laugh.

"Well if you don't want to..." James trailed off with a boyish reluctance.

"Not so fast mister..." Sandi paused, "MisterBond!" she stated with a giggle, realizing she still didn't know his true full name. Her flexible body sprang across the truck and pinned James to his seat. Sandi reached down and reclined the seat a bit to give her some more space and began stroking his cock between her legs.

James buried his face in her bosom while she continued stiffening his cock. He lapped at her nipples and used his free hand to moisten her slit once more. Sandi pressed him back into his seat with her breasts while she arched up on her thighs. For a moment, her back was pressed a bit awkwardly to the ceiling while she lined his head to her slit.

Her warmth radiated down onto his tip as James let the nubile girl slide herself onto his shaft. Her warm, wet cunt contoured around his cock as she impaled herself. The heat permeated into his rod while she bottomed out and hugged him close.

"Mmm... fuck," she mewled after settling. Her legs were straddled wide and her pussy was imperceptibly grinding into his hips.

James lifted Sandi's tiny frame while she stretched her legs; then he slid her down, again and again and again. Each raise and lower slowly slid his slick cock into her slippery pussy. Each stroke filled her silky slit and dribbled her juice onto his cock. Each thrust produced a soft slush that swayed the truck's suspension. Sandi loved the full feeling and the teasingly slow pace; at the bottom of each thrust she gyrated her hips, stimulating her clit before rising again.

The truck continued to sway in motion with their soft rocking; James' thick cock stretched the tiny girl's pussy, each slow stroke filling her up and massaging her closer to an orgasm. Sandi could feel the pressure in her pussy building—sending butterflies into her stomach, racing her heart and quickening her breathing. James built up speed to match; the escalating tempo as he sloshed Sandi up and down filled the cabin with slick crackle of her juices; her sticky-sweet scent filled the air. Her pussy throbbed even closer to orgasm, her clit still sensitive from James' juicy feast.