An agent emerges from the shadows

Still recovering from your near-orgasm, you fail to register a series of slow claps coming from the shadowy figure now standing behind you. After a brief pause, a strong hand grips your unsuspecting scrawny shoulder, and a familiar, confident voice pierces the air: "I'm impressed David. Didn't think you would make it."

Startled by her touch, you frantically spin around. Fuck! The hot ebony agent you completely forgot about must have been there the whole time! As you jump around, your comically engorged cock ends up striking against her inner thigh, rebounding several times with a meaty flop and leaving a starkly visible wet streak on her impeccable dark skin, trickling down slowly. Nonchalantly ignoring the degrading contact to your monster cock, she continues her speech: "I've seen your files, Maxine. Any average cock would have given you a new coating in a heartbeat.".

Chiming in, Chief "hot blonde MILF" adds in a "don't argue with me" tone, still infuriated by her subordinate: "That would be all Maxine. I'm sure this is the beginning of a productive relationship." She places an abundant amount of innuendo into the word "productive", leaving it rather obvious which kind of "productivity" she has in mind.

Distracted and unable to appreciate all that entails, you meanwhile find yourself at eye level with an expressive expanse of spotless chocolate tit-flesh due to her impressive height. Thankfully, she didn’t bother to close her trench coat again, giving you a nice view of her assets. Now freed from the inconspicuous dark fabric, you get a close-up view impressive Amazon body that made your humping of Penny's throat so much more energetic earlier.

Behind you, Maxine struts out of the room with a series of pointed loud clicks of her stripper heels. Under her breath, but still loud enough for you to hear, she mutters "Fuckin' CIA. Always acting like they can just step over us. Bunch of spooks", before slamming the door loudly.

The ebony agent continues, seemingly ignoring you literally salivating over her perfect athletic, skimpily dressed form, continuing her conversation with Chief Blonde Mc. Slutboobs: "Officer Guzz seems to be having some issues with my presence as well. I hope her temper won't become a problem." You ignore most of what she is saying, occupied with scanning her athletic body instead. The glistening highlights on her dark skin in the warm light of the room only seem to add to the experience, highlighting her powerful and yet extremely sexualized Amazon hardbody. Her standing on a pair of heels definitely look understated if their height that wouldn’t look out of place on a stripper places you in a convenient position to leer over the "CIA" agent's body from your slightly slouched stance.

Behind you, the police chief replies, apparently far more interested in intra-agency cooperation than her subordinate: "It won't. She will get around to this. We are all well aware she can be difficult, but she is the best we have - she knows the underworld of the city like the back of her hand."

Ogling the rather atypical agent's long, slender legs with perfectly sculpted calves, you arrive at her juicy hips. They are definitely impressively thick, far wider than those on the pale-skipped cop that just finished furiously sucking you off. The thick round curves below the high, broad straps of her panties suggest a good ole' phat ebony booty hiding in her coat. You can't help but imagine her in some rapper's video, leaving out an audible snort at the thought of a ,"CIA" agent twerking her ass to some dirty trap beat, just as she starts to respond: "Very well. I trust your judge..."

Unamused at you cutting off her speech once again, she interrupts your degenerate daydreaming, scolding you in a slightly annoyed tone sharply contrasting to her otherwise rather formal speech, a tinge of prim and proper, upper-class accent in it: “David, what is it that you find so amusing again?” Realizing your hungry eyes are locked at her crotch level, she adds: "Have you never seen a CIA uniform before? Is there a problem with it?"

Well, if that's a "work uniform", the CIA must be the your favourite employer in the world. You manage to stammer out: "nonono, I love it. Very ... Sexy" Indeed, "sexy" is an understatement - "fucking hot" would be far more appropriate. Her “uniform pants” remind you of the fetishized model lingerie from an anal porn website you once jerked off to almost religiously. On the front, long, broad high-waist agency blue straps connect to a rapidly narrowing piece of fabric barely covering her pussy below, more fit to a hooker than the proud agent of the law. The straps are proudly imprinted with the words “CUNT INTERVENTION ASSESOR” in pristine white surrounded by a yellow line on both sides.

She pouts her full ebony lips, obviously thrown off by your imbecilic stuttering as she replies: "It's a uniform. It's practical, David. You should get used to it, we don't want you drooling over every agent of the law we come across now, don't we?" While she finishes her annoyed intermission, you almost chuckle again as you notice a proud red-white-and-blue struggling to assert itself right on top of her mons. Despite its noble efforts it ends up looking totally out of place guarding the entrance of a glistening chocolate pussy, giving the sluttish attire a perversely patriotic note. Barely hiding anything, the rapidly narrowing blue strip of cloth leaves little room for any bush to be stuffed underneath before being swallow by her chocolate pussy lips below.

You slowly travel your hungry gaze up her sculpted abs, highlighted by her smooth, supple ebony skin glistening in the warm, dim light of the room. Finally, you arrive back at her massive set of gravity-defying chocolate knockers. All this time, she continues dictating to the equally bossy blonde, local police being subordinate to the cunty spy agency in the grand hierarchy of countless shadowy government agencies you are too stupid to know about even in this universe: "Latest information suggests there are some bigger forces at play here. If we don't act now it won't just be a string of civilians who get their throats used as human fleshlights. We need to double our patrols, set up traps and intensify surveillance."

"What kind of forces are we talking about?", you faintly hear Chief MILF's voice respond behind you, full of professional concern weren't it for the slightly moaned tone.

Understandably rather uninterested in the dire situation of the town, you meanwhile slowly bow closer to the ebony amazon's tits. By the end of her tirade, you end up comically hunched over, almost visibly salivating over the huge amount of bare titflesh on display. Not surprising given her tremendous breast size, the tubular elastic strip of cloth "covering" them, coloured in the same blue as her panties, with thin yellow borders on both sides, struggles to properly do its job. Your face inches away from motorboating her tits, she responds, calmly informing the police chief: "I'm afraid I can't disclose that yet. But the stakes go far beyond this town. Director Nutsmiller herself is counting on the success of this operation."

Consumed by far more important tasks, you barely register what she's saying. Thanks to the skimpy design of her “uniform” you can at least pretend to read her name tag (remembering names having never been your strong suit, so you don't even have to pretend that much), which is imprinted directly on her “tube top” across her enormous right tit in a prim government font. Unable bend down and take a few good moments to read the word “FRELLING”, obviously admiring her tit like an art piece instead, your cock oozing a few drops of pre-cum onto the floor. Mentally, you make a note to congratulate the pervert that designed this “uniform” inviting poor, defenceless witnesses and crooked old politicians to leer at the barely covered tits reducing the seemingly unconcerned commanding women wearing them to skimpily dressed sluts. Hell, you might even find the strength to sit through a boring political press conference if all agents were barely dressed models instead of old men in suits.

Consumed by these deep thoughts, you pay only superficial attention as the Chief loudly protests, her voice swelling with confrontational ring: "What do you mean, you can't disclose the information? I am still leading this case! May I remind you that this is still under my jurisdiction?"

Whatever those women are arguing about, huge chocolate tits are what's most important right now. Due to the minimal width of the tube top, you can make out her huge areolae slightly jut out on both sides of this strained peace of fabric, their darker brown plainly visible against her deep mocha skin. The thin material conspicuously bulges out at the letters “LL” doing little to hide the large pointy nipple poking through underneath. Mesmerized by her chocolate melons, you hear her continue somewhere in the back of your head: "Not anymore. It has become a matter of national security. I'm afraid this is more than a local deviant fucking his way through the powerless women of this town. I will also have to borrow David to give his input on the matter, Chief. I assure you we will still work together on this, I am counting on you."

In the meantime you are too busy to take note of your name being mentioned. Taking the ebony agent's tits in one globe at a time, you admire the other end of the expanse of titmeat, shifting over like a tourist admiring an art piece from another perspective. Not that you have admired many art pieces, being a lazy uncultured slob that preferred to watch TV and jerk off. On your way, you notice a drop of sweat trickle down into the nice and inviting tunnel between her tits as you turn your head comically. The uniform seems designed for her to be titfucked, with the strap keeping the dick in place securely. Whoever designed this thing must have thought of everything. Subconsciously, you thrust your pelvis forward at the though of fucking the shit out of her bazongas, your fat dick neatly sliding between her legs and leaving a soggy spot of pre-cum on the inside of her coat. She gives you a disdainful look, as if reminded of your presence herself, but only dryly comments to the bossy blonde MILF behind you in response: "It seems like there are some distractions I have to deal with first, however."

Distractions? Those are big knock-out tits she is talking about! Unfazed in your perverted admiration, you move to the opposite mound of breast where instead of a name tag, you notice an agency emblem smack-dab stop of the other nipple shamelessly poking through the fabric. True to its updated name, the new seal of this universe's mighty "CIA" is the "CUNT INTERVENTION ASSESSORS” name surrounding a pictograph of a woman's crotch with the public hair above it shaved into a proud, patriotic bald eagle. Although your limited vocabulary is woefully insufficient to know what an “assessor” is, seeing the word “CUNT” so proudly displayed on a government icon, you once again giggle idiotically.

Out of patience for your bullshit, Agent Frelling stops talking and menacingly waits for you to take notice of anything else than her ebony gazongas. Her back is perfectly straight and her ass slightly jiggles as she fidgets with the tagged strap of her uniform panties, gently rubbing the flag back and forth across her labia after having your smelly cock slide by in close proximity. Taking the hint, you finally manage to tear your eyes away from her body and lift your gaze up to her expectant face.

The first thing you note about her model-worthy face, incredibly alluring despite the rather scornful expression she wears, are her full ebony lips, covered in glossy coffee-coloured lipstick. Pouted in a sarcastic smile, they bare large, perfectly white teeth. It definitely looks inviting to stick your cock into, a fact that will definitely come in handy sooner or later. Her round cheeks line an exquisite Nubian nose that makes you want to ram your pubes into it. Big, piercing eyes give off an air of amusement mixed with derision. The iris is the same striking coffee-brown as her lipstick, contrasting nicely with her black pupils. A slight border of dark mascara gives her focused gaze a rather piercing, severe quality. No doubt the make-up would run down her face in beautiful streaks once she chokes on your dick. Her thick eyebrows are neatly lined, the same dark colour as her curly hair, cut down to a regal pixie cut, the sides almost completely buzzed. Instead of a government agency, she wouldn’t look out of place on a catwalk or a glossy magazine cover, being touted as the next icon of black female empowerment.

Despite her rather reduced "work" attire, you would probably be scared shitless of her if any less blood was currently flowing between your legs. The agent's stacked Amazon frame is reminiscent of a cougar playing with it's prey, ready to pounce at any moment.

After a symbolic pose allowing you to take in the severe expression on her Nubian face, Agent Frelling scolds you with a chillingly cold voice: “Now that I have your attention, David, do you have any reason to laugh? Do you think women getting facefucked so hard their stomachs have to be pumped free and their faces almost power-washed to get all that cum off are a joke?” She inches closer to you, easily towering over your meagre frame. Shit's about to hit the fan as she bends down to you, her lips forming a chillingly harsh: "Do. You?" Nailed to the wall, you instinctively cover, suddenly reminded of the fact that despite her huge tits and pornstar attire, the furious Amazon could quite probably break you like a twig. Instinct taking over, you pathetically shield your face in a well-rehearsed covering motion.

Barely able to resist her iron grip, you feel her hands grip yours, effortlessly moving your weak block out of the way. A pitiful: "Pleasee, not in the face!" escapes your lips. The towering fury laughs menacingly and doesn't let go of your scrawny weak arms, pulling them towards her easily. Your fear for the worst, and wince pathetically. Frozen in fear, you at first ignore it as her powerful grip twists your hands around and mashes them into something warm, soft and fleshy.

In an act of atypical courage you cautiously open your eyes a few moments later after the fated blow does not arrive. Your pathetically squinted eyes instantly almost pop out of your head as they are welcomed to the sight of her pornstar-worthy dark globes resting in your pasty white hands, held in place by her strong, toned arms. Your mouth is agape with a mixture of receding shock and horniness. Before you can stutter out a response, your angrily red mushroom head already slides up along her inner thigh as your cock stiffens. Getting immediate feedback, the CIA agent gauges your reaction with calm, measured interest, a slight taunting spark appearing in her eyes as she adds: "If you like my breasts - fine, that's not unheard of. Go ahead, touch them. Get it out of your system. We have work to do, focus."

Annoyed by your lack of agency, she forcibly pushes your pale palms into her dark flesh and thrusts her breasts forward simultaneously. Her other hand remains her thick hip, fingers tapping and gently pulling the strap of her high-waist slut panties, perhaps trying to move them out of the way of your vulgarly twitching bulb as it leaves a glistening trail of pre-cum, spit and lipstick while it slowly slides along her leg. Her voice once again turns into an almost barking growl as she adds: "Do you need an invitation? Go ahead, play with them! Go to town on them, I can take it!" Despite her towering height, only partially down to her precariously high-heeled black stiletto pumps, your emerging tip climbs dangerously close to her pussy, the obscenely large dick brought to almost full mast by the bossy professional commanding you to **** her chocolate fun-bags in the same tone she'd use to order you to get a coffee for her.

Finally rattled from your shock, you squeeze the agent’s exquisitely melanin-rich globes with your cupped slender hands. Relieved you're finally following her commands, she growls: "That's better. You like them?" At that point, your brain is once again only half-attendant as you grunt: “yeah.. fucking hot chocolate tits” in response while you bury your hands in the abundant flesh, covered solely by the thin, dark blue strip of cloth passing for a "uniform". Hungrily molesting her puppies with growing fervour, you smile with the foreboding happiness of a child that just got a fascinating new toy for Christmas.

While you play with her enormous, but definitely natural tits, the imposing black queen smiles impishly. Occupied by molesting a pair of impressive chocolate-hued fuckglobes, it takes a firm push directing your chin upwards to direct your attention to her waiting nubian features. Seemingly unflinching despite your lewd molestation, the statuesque dark-skinned amazon allows your claw-like hands to continue hungrily fondling her huge hooker-grade melons as she purrs through her pillowy, thick ebony lips covered by understated light lip-gloss: "Now, that wasn't so hard, was it? I see you are enjoying my "chocolate tits" very much, David."

Hearing her encourage your needy, debauched fondling of her perfectly shaped, exotically dark boobs with calm confidence, you intensify your manhandling of her ebony breasts, kneading the supple flesh with renewed indulgence. You nod enthusiastically, blurting out: "Yeah, fuckin' grade-a knockers you have there, ... agent".

Her voice gets lower as she switching to an almost seductive purr: "See, I knew you would enjoy them, no need to keep just looming over them and disrupting our conversation. I know how to keep you motivated David. If you can help me, we can be friends. And I can provide my friends with some perks…”, adding a weighty pause and biting her lip: “ and benefits.” At this point, you're already hard as rock. Without her breaking focus, holding you by your chin, you feel a touch on your filth-covered cock as she wraps her other hand around its engorged girth, currently pushing it's head just past the thin deep blue line of cloth barely veiling her pussy, alluring dark skin noticeably bulging over on both sides.

The skin of her palm isn't exactly silky smooth, not surprising given her stacked muscular frame that probably saw some hand-to-hand action. But she more than makes up in technique, sliding up and down your girth with a subtle motion, and steadily increasing the pressure, gently tugging back your meaty foreskin while she slides her hand along and forming a tight ring around the back of your now exposed crown, still sensitive and ready to spurt forth hot jets of spunk into the inside of her coat right then and there. Her skilful dark hand has less trouble fitting around your veiny girth, slender dark fingers wrapping around the filth-encrusted pallid skin, tinted by different shades of smeared lipstick and dried streams of mascara.

A large drop of almost opaque pre-cum quickly escapes your exposed head as she gently tugs the sensitive exposed pink skin at the back of your mushroom-sized knob. Her milking hand immediately juts forward and cups it in her palm. Using the pungent, heavy smelling liquid as lube, she jerks you with increased speed, filling the room with a series of nasty moist sounds. All this time, she keeps your head in place, the impish smile on the ebony woman's luscious lips growing larger, while you **** her warm, natural tits, your pawing hands sliding under the thin strip of cloth of her uniform, pinching her hard, puffy ebony nipples right below her name tag.

With her hand still around your disproportionate meat stick that soon pisses forth an almost constant stream of pre-cum which her hand spreads as lube, the dark skin of her hand quickly sogs in filthy, dyed batter. Baring her teeth in a sarcastically condescending smile, a spark of threatening intensity appears in her eyes. Still holding you by your chin, the chillingly cold dagger appears in her voice again: “Now I want you to remember one thing, David".

While forcing you to keep her piercing eyes in focus, she accelerates the motions of her other hand, jerking you with increased intensity, powerful motions brushing back and forth across your cock from the hairy pube-covered base to the sensitive mushroom at the top. High-pitched flopping sounds resonate through the stately room. Drowning them out, the ebony beauty continues: "I can be rather unpleasant if people don't do as I say. So stay on my good side.” As if stressing her point, she now tugs your cock almost violently, stopping short of making it really unpleasant, but clearly showing you who is in control here. With your hands still around her dark tits, your legs are trembling as the stream of pre-cum oozing out of your pisshole becomes a river that drizzles down onto the slightly worn but polished parquet.

Bringing you to the edge of orgasm, she makes you cum violently just as she closes off with a final: “Are we clear?”. As the first jet of steamy thick jizz escapes your cock, you grunt a loud: "YEUUH". With her hand arching your cock upwards, the creamy mess hits the front of her panties. It splatters right across the proud US flag in a long defiling white string, leaving the red-white-and-blue underneath a soggy damp mess as it soaks into the fabric, the tip of the glob reaching up to the CUNT INTERVENTION AGENCY lettering on the strap. While you keep firing the heavy, thick cum, her assertive hand guides your dick downwards, never letting up the loud jerking motions.

You being horny as fuck and mesmerized by the chocolate beauty in front of you, your disproportionate meat pulses in her hand and keeps churning out record amounts of thick baby-batter. In rapid succession, another jet fires on the right at her barely covered pussy lips promptly soaking through the thin deep blue fabric digging into them and coating the noticably darker skin jutting out on both sides in steamy, slimy covering of jizz that could make her pregnant just be sheer **** alone.

As her assertive hand continues guiding you downward, you fire several jets some of which cling to the side of her sculpted, muscular calves running down like Oreo cream on her chocolate skin. Several shots fly past her and splash against the inside of her coat, soiling the neutral dark fabric. At the end of the arc, your cock directed downwards, you finally run out of cum after the eye-popping amount you have just produced. With an audible wet splash, another thick drop lands on top of a "formal stripper" heel on the ebony Amazon's feet.

While you almost collapse from exhaustion, held in place by her hand on your chin and another around your dick, she milks out a few last drops out of you that splatter on the polished wood below. Blissfully drained, you slowly come to your senses, as you feel her arm shift away from your exhausted and drained dick. With her face remaining rather neutrally attentive, she determinedly guides her hand into the forest of scrubby public hair and cups your equally emptied plum-sized balls. Her face flares up in smug smile, as she gives them a light squeeze and comments matter-of-factly: "Good. I like having an understanding. And I see you have a pair of what makes a good agent."

Removing your weary hands from under the dishevelled piece of cloth constituting the top half of her uniform, she accurately aligns it back, managing to adjust it pristinely. The fact that a disgusting slob just pawed her tits for a good several minutes notwithstanding, aside from showing even more of her dark areolae than before, the thin tube of cloth once again proudly reads the agent's name while leaving little of what's underneath it to the imagination.

The bottom of her uniform is a different story however - one leg is covered in slowly dripping thick white strands obviously contrasting against her dark skin. The fabric of the CIA panties is covered in moist stains and the proud US flag is almost blotted out by a gooey strand of jizz. Luckily, she does not seem to mind the mess you made. If anything, she seems to somewhat enjoy wearing your baby-making cream all over her spotless dark skin, judging by the lack of any attempt to clean it up and the wet film rapidly forming around her pussy lips. Far from showing any aversion or disgust to the mucous, heavy liquid, the pixie-haired professional just comments nonchalantly: "Now, we should get to work. We can't let your talents go to waste.". Her gaze momentarily darting to your monstrous donkey dick, she adds, subconsciously biting her lip: "Unless you have any remaining business to settle with Chief Frelling, I would suggest we better get going".

Having made her case with you, she gazes at you expectedly with her piercing dark eyes, waiting for you to make a firm decision for once.