Actions of Man on Covert Mission

'We Need Your Special Expertise'

Marco reluctantly pulled his dick out of the sweet tight grip of the ass of Jimmy… or was this Steve? After months of hook-ups in New York City, satisfying his sexual appetite for moaning bottoms, Marco had admittedly lost some of his perceptual precision on who was who. And why bother? It all only served the purpose of feeling masculine power and release animate the body for a few minutes in the otherwise dreary days.

The knock on the door to the small apartment had however been of that kind Marco knew only a government man could deliver. Better open and face whatever annoyance there was. Maybe a neighbour had lost patience with the high-pitch screaming and insistent creaking from beds, and had called the cops? 

Marco was at a low-point in life, feeling like he had little to loose. So although the 1950s America was sensitive to so called moral transgressions, and quite willing to direct state power against deviants, however defined, Marco decided to open the door in full splendour: not a single inch, no vein or muscle hidden behind clothes, just his crucifix necklace resting between big steamy pectoral muscles. 

Marco had a great body to show off. Good genes from who knew what origin had endowed him with a both considerable length and girth. And years of hard work as an agent of America in the War had trained his body to harbour great strength and vitality, not to mention a spirit packed with potent masculine courage that his body and pose projected.

On the other side of the door was not an ordinary police officer, though. It was Agent Cooper, his former superior, now head of the Soviet desk, or something like that in the vast bureaucracy. Agent Cooper was that kind of grey, utterly unremarkable guy — dickless, at least in the figurative sense. He had been a leader during the War, Marco admitted, but whatever spine, balls, guts and nerve he had then, must have been lost somewhere on the other side of the Atlantic. 

Cooper pulled back slightly when he saw the nude Marco in front of him, skin coated in sweat and other sexual juices. Cooper regained his composure, being a well-trained Government Man and all. One does not get promoted in the bureaucracy unless one can suppress the last drop of human passions after all.

“Agent Ulises… I require some of your time… it is an Agency matter”, Agent Cooper said.

“Agent Cooper, your visit honours me. But as I recall I no longer work for CIA”, Marco said without any attempt to hide his contempt.

A nearby apartment door began to open. Agent Cooper preferred discretion, and he was also quite perturbed by the thought of being seen standing there in front of this nude muscular man who clearly had just been engaged in some carnal act. Agent Cooper hinted at continuing the conversation inside the apartment.

“Agent Ulises, hear me out at least. I am of course aware of your discharge, but arrangements can be made, so hear what I have to say” Agent Cooper said once they had entered the apartment and stood in the kitchen. Marco enjoyed how awkward Cooper was as he struggled to keep his eyes away from the dick Marco so confidently dangled in full view. 

“Sure. I have a few minutes before the boy in my bed will become impatient, his ass begging for more dick, I’ll listen… but you’re wasting your time.”

“Agent Ulises, you have special abilities. I know that, we have worked together and no agent has been as capable as you… especially in certain delicate special matters, so to speak. And yes, I have to disclose to you, in strict confidence of course, that we have learnt about a plot of the Soviets… a plot that we likely need your special expertise for”, Agent Cooper said in his monotone and limp way.

“Likely need you say? And don’t bother with the flattery, I know what you think about those delicate special matters I perform so well at. Get to the point.”

“Agent Ulises, last month we learnt that the Soviet Agent Mitya has arrived in America. As you may have heard, the godless Communists have a habit of using seductive women to extract secrets from Western intelligence services. They are trained in the art of sexual seduction in the Mata Hari School, as we call it. Now, the only man who to have graduated from there, first in class we understand, is Agent Mitya.” 

“We do not know his target, we are not even sure of how he looks. He apparently pumped two French servicemen of all their secrets, they may never fully recover… I mean, this Mitya is destructive.” Agent Cooper paused, probably stopping himself from getting too explicit in what the two Frenchmen had experienced thanks to Mitya.

“We only know he is a blonde man, young and, supposedly, handsome, with seductive blue eyes… or again so we have been told by people who can make such judgements.”

“And now he is here? Hey, I thought the Agency didn’t allow any queers so what’s the problem”, Marco interrupted with sarcasm. A talented and pretty bottom as a spy, most ingenious Marco thought. 

“He has evaded us so far, and we believe that you likely are the one to find him and thwart his efforts. Do I need to remind you about the untold deaths Stalin has caused and is causing through monstrous collectivism, do I need to remind you of your oath to protect the imperfect, but nonetheless precious freedoms we have here?” Agent Cooper said.

“Agent Cooper, I do not care for Stalin or Communism. But it was the Agency that threw me out, dishonourably I might add. Why should I fight for you? Are you not really just as eager to lock me up and shut me up?” Marco was evidently tired to hear about this, and a tired cynism had placed a heavy weight on his spirit.

“See reason, Senator Tucker Watt insisted that you be removed after you…”

“That old goat, that sack of guts!”, Marco shouted.

Senator Tucker Watt was the most high and mighty senator in the United States, at least in his own estimation. A man that liked to pontificate and lecture about enemies, foreign and domestic, where it seemed any man in awe of majestic manhood was at the top of that list. But he had one redeeming quality as far as Marco was concerned. That wine-sod had fathered the most beautiful son, the precious Billy.

It had been little more than a year ago when Marco first had seen Billy Watt. After a tense and demanding mission in Italy, Marco had been invited to Senator Watt’s home so the Senator could show the other Washington types the great and important people he had in his social circle. Of course, this was when Marco’s brand of manly nature was unknown to the senator. 

That evening was on track to become the usual boring event in a run-of-the-mill ballroom that people without integrity are so capable of delivering. By reflex, a fleeting glance of a perky butt in the corner of the eye, and Marco became alerted to the beauty. There stood Billy Watt in snug trousers, a smart and impeccably cleaned shirt, lightly ruffled hair, and that searching gaze Marco had seen so many times before: the searching gaze of a boy consumed by that sweet and secret desire to be ever closer to men’s hard dicks.

Sure, he was a senator’s son, but Marco could not stop himself, and an expert routine was initiated, passed down from Ancient times when Socrates was exquisitely fingering perky Athenian ass. This was a natural beauty begging to be brought into full bloom by steady masculine hands, care and thrusts. It was a higher mission. 

Marco had initiated a harmless conversation in that ballroom about something banal. In turn, Billy had put on the show of pretending to be more intelligent and bookish than he was (some freshman-level remarks about the Weimar Republic, most likely). A true model of wholesome American virtue, as sweet as apple pie. Fortunately, Marco noted, the conformity of his peers had not yet taken hold of this young man.

Marco made sure his muscles and dick were clearly protruding underneath the tight clothing. He turned his face sideways, away from Billy, as if looking for someone in the room. Immediately the virtuous Billy turned his gaze down to the chest, muscular thighs and bulging crotch that Marco showed off. Next step in Marco’s plan was to turn his head back quickly, ‘discovering’ Billy’s inspection, asking Billy, why he was looking at his crotch. The boy was intensely flustered, stammering something incoherent about Renaissance sculptures and Burkean respect for traditional practice.

He was so pretty, Marco thought as he stood in his dreary New York kitchen remembering the blushing cheeks of sweet Billy struggling with his intense arousal. Well, the next events that followed were even greater cause for warm fuzzy thoughts. 

As expected, Billy did not take long to seek out Marco so he could ask about patriotic service and what a military man thought of the strategic errors in the Peloponnesian War. Excuses of course. Marco would not be a highly decorated intelligence officer if he could not detect such an obvious pretence for a discreet meeting. Billy proved most eager to discover the true joys of manhood.

In less than one week Billy and Marco would explore all kinds of way to have two guys merge together. Billy really loved being on the back with Marco pressing his body on him. Billy’s legs pushed high up towards his chest, exposing his sweet butthole between his perky butt cheeks. Complete moaning surrender.

Marco applied generous amount of lubricant, clockwise rotation, to that pink twitching hole of such infinite delights. Billy was inexperienced, he admitted, only the shaft of a toothbrush had he once inserted out of curiosity. So opening up for Marco’s full girth required both determination and assistance. There was no shortage of determination, so the lubricant was the last piece of the puzzle.

Long, careful thrusts were applied. Virgin boys are best led carefully. Their desire to feel the insertion of a big dick inside themselves should be encouraged of course, but too much pain at first and they might abandon my exquisite guidance for a lesser man, thought Marco. It was tragic whenever these things were handled in unmanly ways. Marco recalled the tight grip Billy’s butt applied to the dick it received. It was hard not to squirt that boy full in mere minutes of love-making. Marco had to apply his training to calm his balls and spirit so he could take Billy in more ways.

And the moaning, that lustful moaning, thought Marco, as his train of thought continued. Billy like many boys, tried to contain his expressions of pleasure. Marco had fucked Billy in a good-old doggy position, but then forcefully pressed him face down, getting his butt to open up even more, taking another inch of hard cock inside. The combination of being the object of superior manly force and being opened up, literally, by strong manhood, was too much for sweet Billy, who screamed out a massive intense moan that rattled nearby windows. The fact that these were the ballroom windows of his father’s boring mansion added to the sensation. From that day, the mere touch of dick against his body made Billy whimper with joy. His inhibitions and fear of pleasure and strength had thoroughly been washed away.

How wonderful it would be if these thoughts could go on. Every thrust, kiss, quiver and smile we produced together those four weeks we had were of a whole different kind, Marco thought. Not that quick transactional fuck that Marco had become so adept in as part of his espionage. This was true bonding. The four weeks came to an inauspicious end, however, and Marco’s mood turned dark. 

An unfucked ideological fanatic working in the Tucker household happened to catch a glimpse one day when Billy was on his knees, eagerly sucking and licking Marco’s dick. The fanatic reported the ‘beastly event’ to the Senator. He wasted no time, and used all his political power to ensure the dishonourable discharge of Marco. Not even the lowest of jobs in the military service or municipal law enforcement was an option for Marco anymore, that far the Senator’s determined hatred and power reached.

But worst of all, poor Billy had to take most of his father’s abuse. The sweet boy, an artist of great sexual dexterity, an all-American golden beauty with sharp intellect, a true model for the grand future of our Union, was not going to continue at Princeton as planned, his paper on the Golden Fleece shredded in anger by the Senator. Rather he was sent to a mundane boarding school of undifferentiated houses with instructions to be ‘whipped into a man’ and ‘corrected’. 

To hell with those people, Marco thought, as his mind returned to the present situation, in part due to Agent Cooper’s embarrassed coughing.

Thinking about sweet Billy had made Marco’s dick grow to its full size, standing in full glory, impossible to avert one’s eyes from. The dickless Agent Cooper did not have the decency to drop to his knees and sing praise to this grand spectacle. He was just coughing and grimacing in feigned disgust. This man was grey formless bureaucratic goo come alive, Marco thought.

“Senator Tucker and the CIA told me to go off and die after I opened up his eager son to his natural strength and revealed to him the true potential of manhood and patriotism. I have no interest to come back. I was shipped off to become a lotus eater”, Marco said. Agent Cooper did not dare to press things any further and left.

Marco returned to the bedroom. His random boy for the night was still there, face down, ass up, panting with anticipation as he was preparing for the continuation of Marco’s commanding force. 

Above the bed the only art piece in the apartment was hanging: a replica of a Renaissance painting of Saint Sebastian, pierced and bound. Marco looked at the saint with sadness, for a moment feeling there was something hiding in plain sight in the saints silent posture, something he had known in the past. He could not clear his mind. Anger and hate flowed in.

Marco’s thrusts that night were rough and aggressive, seeding the boy for the night several times, making the boy unable to sit properly for the next two weeks. Still, the boy yelped with joy and confusion. Anger did not make Marco a tender lover, and Agent Cooper’s visit had been nothing but a source of it. However, the thought that CIA was in a struggle to catch a Russian bottom spy pumping them on secrets gave Marco some cruel joy.