Sylvia Finishes Bond Off

Both people remained frozen in their positions in the king-size bed of the Regency styled house in Chelsea Square. Bond staring at the intruding pager, Sylvia looking back and forth between Bond and the pager, his cock in her mouth. When the pager buzzed the second time, 007 swung into action. Clasping the crown of Sylvia's head with his left hand to hold her in place, he rolled over onto his right side, taking her with him. This caused his left leg to swivel up and over, effectively pinning Sylvia with her thick waves of black hair between Bond's hairy thighs. The combination of the leg-lock and hand on the back of her head assured that Sylvia's mouth was not about to leave his dick.

Reaching out with his right hand, he hit the 'silence' button. But he did not rotate back to his original position. Instead, seeing how 'trapped' the woman was, he thrust his hips back and forth a few times. She did not resist, but lay there passively letting him face-fuck her. After he shoved his shaft in too far a couple of times, causing her to gag, she did wrap her right hand around the base of his erection, so that he could only go in so far.

Eventually, he did release her and lay on his back, saying, "Sorry for the interruption. Please, do continue."

Re-arranging her position, she once more settled in on her knees between Bond's legs. "I really hate that thing," she glared at the offending electronic device on the night-stand.

"My Director likes to be able to reach his employees at all times," 007 answered with a shrug.

Holding the shaft of his hard-on at the mid-point, Sylvia licked across and around the head, her gaze drifting from the pager to the pistol. "Hmm mmm," she replied. "And you carry a gun because the competition for gadgets and novelty items is so fierce.

Again he shrugged. "Universal Export handles more that just trinkets. We deal with farm machinery, office equipment, some textiles."

"Hmm mmm," Sylvia again responded. But she was growing tired of this conversation so she decided to put an end to it by putting her mouth back on his cock. She only took the head in this time. Her right hand started pumping on the shaft while her left cupped his balls. Sucking as hard as she could, she created a vacuum around the glans.

As she anticipated, soon Bond was writhing around helplessly under her. His hands held her head as his hips rotated around in a circular fashion. She felt his balls tightening up closer to his body, signaling his release was imminent. When Bond started to repeatedly babble her name and tighten his grip, she knew that was it.

Leaning forward a little more, getting ready for what she knew was about to happen, Sylvia worked her fist up and down that shaft as fast as she could. All the while sucking, and sucking hard, on the head.

A loud groan from Bond accompanied the first eruption of sperm that exploded into her mouth. Another immediately followed. And another. Sylvia skillfully remained in position, not letting his bucking hips and arching back through her off. She kept sucking and furiously stroking, repeatedly swallowing down the torrent of cum, guiding him through his orgasm.

When she felt the twitching of his cock subsiding and the grip on her head loosening, Sylvia slowed down her movements. Gradually she stopped altogether, but remained hunched over him, his softening cock still in her mouth.

Lifting her head and sitting back on her haunches, the naked woman dabbed at the corners of her lips. "Alright. Go call the messenger service and find out what earth-shattering crisis is occurring in the land of trinkets and tin-toys."

Bond smiled that cruel smile of his and sat up in bed. Grabbing the back of her head once more, he pulled her to him, covering her wide, generous mouth with his. As he kissed the beautiful Sylvia Trench, he could taste himself on her lips.

Then it was out of bed, into the living room, and dialing the phone for 007. By the time he returned, Sylvia was dressed. Although, of course, her hair hung loosely about her shoulders rather than in the upswept fashion of last night. "Let me get dressed and I'll drop you off at your home," he told her as opened his underwear drawer.

"Don't bother," she stepped up close to him and tapped his bare chest. "I can catch a cab. I wouldn't want to cause you in delay in responding to a Hong Kong cheap knock-off threat."

Standing on her tip-toes, she kissed him again. As she departed, she called back over her shoulder, "And try not to be gone for three months like the last time."