("`-''-/").___..--''"`-._ `6_ 6 ) `-. ( ).`-.__.`) (_Y_.)' ._ ) `._ `. ``-..-' _..`--'_..-_/ /--'_.' ,' (((' (((-((('' (((( K R I S T E N' S C O L L E C T I O N _________________________________________ WARNING! This text file contains sexually explicit material. If you do not wish to read this type of literature, or you are under age, PLEASE DELETE THIS FILE NOW!!!! _________________________________________ Scroll down to view text -------------------------------------------------------- This work is copyrighted to the author © 2013. Please don't remove the author information or make any changes to this story. All rights reserved. Thank you for your consideration. -------------------------------------------------------- How to Avoid being Blown by Jimmy Hat (jimmy@jimmy-hat.com) *** Her brief was thorough, her job minimal. All she was supposed to do was get inside and give Shelby Taylor a face. She was to hold hands with Leo, complain about her boss and her job at his little accounting firm, and ask when Leo was going to get out of jail. It was a simple performance, pure fluff, but Agent Stanton decided at that moment to ad lib a bit. (MF, nc, oral, strip-search) *** "Strip!" barked the guard. "All right! I heard you the first time," Heather Stanton replied. As an FBI agent, Stanton made countless trips to prisons around the United States, but she was accustomed to more preferential treatment under the aegis of her gold badge. Today she signed into the prison visitors' area as Shelby Taylor, and she had a role to play. Stanton normally wore business suits and subtle cosmetics. In the guise of Shelby Taylor, she wore platform shoes, bell bottom dungarees, a baby doll t- shirt, bright lipstick, heavy dark liner around her blue eyes, and reddish-brown fingernail polish, a color named "Morrocco" that deserved a less exotic label like "Mud". Shelby Taylor would have been the finest example of trailer trash womanhood imaginable, if not for the corrections officer in the room with her. The CO's dark hair was combed down flat against her head. A severe part ran down the middle exposing a strip of her white scalp like the center line of a divided highway. Her jowls sagged, but looked almost high and firm compared to her double chin. She had the body of someone who had super-sized her McDonald's lunch a hundred times in the past year, and a vacant look in her eyes that indicated despite her familiarity with the Big Mac, she still had no idea what the sum of $3.79 and 39 cents was. The strip of bakelite pinned to her uniform had the name "Drury" etched into it. Stanton made a mental note of Drury's name, and started to take off her shoes. She looked away from CO Drury as she unlaced and kicked off the platforms, and then wiggled out of her blue jeans. Drury glanced at Stanton's legs, and her eyes narrowed. Normally Drury liked to rush this along and make things as unpleasant as possible on visitors, as she had when she called this one out of line and into the room for a spot search, yelling orders in a clipped voice. Now, though, she thought it might be nice to slow this sweet thing down, get her to take her time getting naked. "Wait a second," Drury said. She pointed to a shiny band around Stanton's ankle. "What's that?" "Ankle bracelet," Stanton replied. "I know that, missy!" Drury snapped. "What's hangin' from it? Some kinda contraband?" There was no 'r' or 'd' in the way Drury pronounced the word, and somehow an extra syllable slipped in. It sounded like 'conchabayin'. Stanton mimicked the pronunciation. "It's not 'conchabayin'. It's just a charm." "Let me see it," Drury said, licking her lips. "Put your foot up on that chair there." As Stanton obeyed, Drury moved closer, took hold of Stanton's ankle with one pudgy hand, and examined the heart-shaped charm. Her face stood inches away from Stanton's bare knee. Drury looked up from the cheap piece of jewelry. White cotton panties covered Stanton's crotch, and Drury looked them over far longer than she had examined the charm. She knew she was going to see it all soon enough, and the sight of the flimsy underwear and the contours of the mound underneath only increased her anticipation. "I guess that's okay," Drury relented, not bothering to look back at the anklet. A cold shiver went through Stanton's body. She took her leg off the chair and pulled her shirt over her head. The dark hair that hung in her face obscured her vision, and Stanton was glad that she didn't have to see Drury's reaction. She stood still. "What's your name again, missy?" "Shelby Taylor," Stanton answered. Who the hell came up with that name?, Stanton wondered. But she was relieved to concentrate on her figurative cover rather than her uncovered figure. "And where'r you from, Shelby?" "Springfield," Stanton answered. "Well, Shelby, I don't know what they teach you in Springfield, but when I say 'Strip', I mean it down to the bone. Now keep on goin'." Stanton quickly unhooked her bra and rolled her panties off her legs. The skin itched where the underwire of her bra had pressed against the soft flesh of her breasts, but she didn't want to draw any more attention to herself by scratching them. The irritation simply added to her discomfort. "Sit down." Drury said tonelessly. Thankful that the seat was wooden and not metal, Stanton sat down. It was still cold, however, and heat seemed to rush out of her body through her back and backside. Drury watched as Stanton's nipples hardened in a purely involuntary response. Drury approached the chair and took Stanton's head in her hands. Carefully the CO ran her heavy hands through Stanton's long dark hair. She pulled out a hairpin and continued the search, looking down at the brunette's bare shoulders, her breasts, and the nipples that stood out proudly. Drury wanted to stop for a moment and feel the hard curve of her shoulders, and the soft curve of her breasts. "Stand up," Drury ordered. "Grab the table." Clenching her teeth with anger, Stanton followed the CO's instructions. She bent slightly at the waist and rested her weight against the edge of the table. Staring at a chip in the paint on the wall, Stanton braced herself for the body cavity search. Momentarily, she was jarred from her quiet resolve by the snap of latex gloves being put on behind her. Wrapped in latex, Drury's plump fingers looked like small sausages. She squeezed a dollop of lubricating jelly on to her right hand and smeared it around her fingers. She took a moment to admire the smooth firm haunches in front of her, the muscular back and the furrow that reached to her waist and ended at the tailbone, flanked on either side by a little dimple. Drury could just see a tuft of dark hair at the juncture between her legs. "Spread 'em," Drury ordered unceremoniously. Stanton moved her feet apart as far as she could and held her breath. She felt the cool, slippery gloved hand between her legs, spreading, stretching, poking. Despite the lube, some of Stanton's pubic hairs were caught in the glove. She winced once, slightly. "If you shaved that it wouldn't hurt," Drury said knowingly. In one rough thrust there were two fingers inside her, probing the smooth walls of her sex. Stanton allowed herself to exhale when Drury removed them, seemingly hours later. "Bend over more," Drury commanded. Again Stanton complied. Drury spread some jelly around the winking hole of Stanton's ass and then worked a gloved finger inside. She used her middle finger, and placed the butt of her palm against one of the smooth strong cheeks of Stanton's ass. Awkward as that was, it left Drury an open view of the woman's pussy flushed red and wet with lube. Drury pushed in until her knuckles rested along the crack of Stanton's ass. She heard the naked woman gasp for air. The CO smiled and took her time removing her chubby finger. Drury stepped back and took a moment to admire the fine form in front of her before ripping her gloves off. "OK, get dressed," Drury said. Then she mumbled to herself, "Did that little girl a favor. Now her con boyfriend can take her any way he wants her." Stanton rushed back into her clothes. She avoided looking at Drury and followed her out of the room. Outside the door stood a tall male CO with a toothpick jutting from between his lips. He wore sunglasses, tinted dark brown, but tilted his head up and down to let her know he was looking her over. He shifted the toothpick from one side of his mouth to the other and smiled. "Oh, Jesus," Stanton thought, "He saw that, didn't he? Through a window? Maybe even a camera. They probably have that on tape. They'll be taking bribes from convicts to show it on television." That kind of corruption was the reason she was there. The Bureau had an agent inside the prison to investigate allegations from former inmates. The undercover operation was running smoothly until one inmate made a big stink one night. He had noticed that although the agent wrote and received plenty of letters, he never had a visitor. Enter Shelby Taylor, as portrayed by Special Agent Stanton. The tall CO stepped out of Stanton's way when the magnetic lock released. A loud buzz sounded, a green light flashed, and the barred door to the visitors' area slid open. Stanton was one of the last in, having been delayed by the strip search. Drury hadn't offered her anything to clean herself with, and as she walked through the tables, she felt the lube squish between her legs. Almost as cloying, she felt the eyes of guards and prisoners on her as she looked for the agent. Stanton was given his assumed name, Leo Calderone. Without knowing his real name, it was impossible to slip up. She had seen his picture, and he had the dark Latin features to match his surname. Stanton scanned the room, looking for him. She spotted one inmate with a woman's head bobbing up and down between his legs, and another with a blonde straddling his lap, a short skirt hiding their copulation from view. What a welcome, Stanton thought. She spotted Leo. "Leo, honey!" "Oh, Shelby, you look good, baby!" The two embraced. Stanton closed her eyes as they kissed, and felt his hands reach for her ass and give her a playful slap. Had to play the part. At least Calderone was easier on the eyes than Drury. Her brief was thorough, her job minimal. All she was supposed to do was get inside and give Shelby Taylor a face. She was to hold hands with Leo, complain about her boss and her job at his little accounting firm, and ask when Leo was going to get out of jail. It was a simple performance, pure fluff, but Stanton decided at that moment to ad lib a bit. She started to cry. Agent Stanton buried her head in Leo's chest and sobbed, heaving her chest as if she'd lost control over her ability to breathe properly. "Hey, hey, Shelby, what's wrong?" "Oh, Leo," she said between sobs, "When are you getting out of here?" "Soon, baby, soon," he answered, wrapping his arms around her shoulders and holding her tight. Stanton returned the embrace, and buried her head in his chest for a moment. When she looked up again, she saw a guard walking by escorting a prisoner through the visitors' area. It was time. "Oh, Leo, I don't think I can do this again, baby. I can't come back here again!" "Shelby, don't get upset," he said. "I'll be out soon. You don't have to come again." That was all Stanton needed to hear. She hoped the guard and the inmate also heard the exchange. Shelby had a face, and now a damn good reason not to have to show it at this prison again. Stanton was satisfied with her performance, glad that she was through being humiliated, and looking forward to coasting through the rest of the visit. The pair of agents quickly moved through the litany of Shelby's frustrations at work. Stanton rattled off her complaints and Calderone dutifully nodded his head and sympathized. Calderone mentioned possible dates of release, and it was Stanton's turn to nod in ascension. After that she figured it was high time to leave the place behind. It was at that moment that she saw Curly Williams. The nightmare of any agent working undercover is to be recognized for what they really are, to be 'blown' as the saying goes. As a Special Agent, Heather Stanton had investigated and arrested Curly Williams for running a prostitution ring out of a set of dry cleaners and tailors. The press labeled Curly the 'while-u-wait' pimp and jokes about 'sew-jobs' filled the late night talk show monologues. Having your cover blown was no laughing matter, though, even if it was the while-u-wait pimp who did it. There was nowhere to run. Curly might see her, he might not, but he was certainly headed her way. Stanton's mind raced to find a means of disguise. She hadn't realized she'd stopped speaking in mid-sentence. "What's the matter, Shelby?" Blown. It was the only word that came to mind. "Shelby?" Blown. Stanton snapped back to her surroundings. Wondering where Curly was, she took a quick look around. To the left was a woman resting on a prisoner's lap. They must have finished. She wondered if the other one was done giving head to her... "C'mon, Shelby," Leo pleaded, "What is it?" No sooner had he finished asking the question than Stanton's head was buried in his lap, and her fingers were working the button fly of his prison coveralls. The undercover agent was so surprised when she took hold of his floppy dick that it actually shrunk back a bit. "What the...?" The man gasped when Stanton took his limp organ in her mouth and swirled her tongue around its soft crown. Whatever surprise and nervousness he felt dwindled rapidly, and in equal measure his cock swelled in size. "Oh, fuck!" he stammered. This was the first time he'd ever met the brunette agent and her pretty blue eyes; now she was kneeling between his legs and sucking on his prick as if a snake had bit him and she needed to extract the venom. "Damn, Shelby," he said in utter amazement. This agent sure as hell knew how to get into the act. Quite a finale considering a few minutes ago she was signaling that under no circumstances was she making a repeat performance. His cock had stiffened and lengthened, but she continued to work over its full length, with her hands resting on his thighs, and her dark hair falling near his navel. Who was this woman? He wanted to get another look at her. As he tried to brush her hair out of the way, one of her hands leapt off his lap and slapped him sharply on the wrist. For the first time since she'd suddenly dropped to her knees, Stanton released her mouth from his shaft. "Leave the hair alone," she said quickly, before going back to work. "Whatever you say, baby." He was as confused as when she started, but aroused enough not to care anymore. Rock hard, his cock pulsed in her mouth. Stanton thought Curly had to have passed by now. She pulled off again, taking the wet sticky shaft in her hand. "Can you see Curly?" "Curly?" he said in surprise. It just so happened the man was walking by at the time. "Yeah, what you want, man?" Curly asked loudly. Stanton's heart leaped into her throat. It was a good thing that she no longer had a cock there; the collision could have been rough. She had to get rid of Curly. She squeezed Leo's cock. "Ahhh," he exclaimed. "Nothing, man. I'm busy." "Shit, I can see that. Izzat yo woman?" "Yeah," Leo answered. "Well, when she's done there, send her my way." "Fuck you, Curly." Curly laughed and walked away. "See ya back at the yard, man." Now Leo could guess why the agent had buried her face in his lap. That was a pretty smart move. He was about to tell her that the coast was clear when he remembered that he was sporting a monster hard-on, there was a blue-eyed girl with her head between his legs, and he was in prison, undercover or not. "Keep going," he whispered. "Curly's a few feet behind you." She worked slowly and methodically. Leo helped by guiding her head with his hand, but he was careful to let her hair cover her face. Her mouth was warm and wet sliding along his rigid prick. "Keep going," he said. "That's so good." Stanton heard the last bit of what he said, and it was her turn to realize what was going on. But she was a bit too late. Leo erupted in orgasm and two months of frustration burst from his balls and into the roof of her mouth. If she pulled off at that point, she risked a shot in her face or hair, so Stanton let him blast away. Two, three, four warm streams filled her cheeks. When the spasms stopped, Stanton opened her mouth. The goo trickled along his shaft and down onto his balls in his coveralls. Most of it, anyway. She wanted to smack him, but instead she kept to their cover. She actually smiled. "You're the best, Shelby." he said, and meant it. "I can't wait until I get you outside this prison," she replied. She meant it, too. Stanton let him peck her on the cheek, and then she turned to leave. Naturally, Curly was nowhere to be seen. As she walked, she felt the lube again between her legs. She wanted a shower. She wanted a breath mint. She needed to get the hell out of there. What she got was a guard stopping her on the way out. "That was a helluva show you put on there." Drury said to her. "Fuck off," Stanton replied. "Hold on there, bitch," the guard said, catching her by the arm. Instinctively, Stanton thought of flipping the CO over her hip. Instead she stopped and stayed in character. Drury went on talking. "We have rules here, and that little indecent act is against 'em." Stanton met her with a blank stare. "The fine is fifty bucks," she said. A bribe, Stanton thought. On top of all that, she expects a bribe. Stanton pulled three twenties from her jeans and thrust them at the CO. "Happy now?" "Not really. But now that you know the rules I guess you can go." Not really happy, Stanton thought. She wasn't the only one. She made her way back to the beat-up CRX the bureau procured for Shelby Taylor and headed back to the field office. During the debriefing, she simply mentioned a 'distraction' that she arranged with Leo when she saw Curly. She filled out the bureau's copious forms, and a local field agent gave her a lift to her hotel. After a long hot shower, she met her partner Maytag at the hotel bar. "How did it go?" he asked. "I don't want to talk about it." Stanton took a long swallow from her gin and tonic, then looked over at her partner. "Hey," she said. "What happened to that orange tie you had on this morning?" "I don't want to talk about it," Maytag answered. It was a story for another time. They finished their drinks in silence. END Author Note: I hope you enjoyed that, and I'd love to hear your comments. There is an anonymous e-mail form (and more stories) at http://www.jimmy-hat.com , or you can mail me: directly at jimmy@jimmy-hat.com Anyone wishing to charge fees for access to this material, through any media or publication, must receive the written permission of Jimmy Hat. ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ This story was written as an adult fantasy. The author does not condone the described behavior in real life in any way, shape or form. Anyone tempted to act out any of the scenarios in this story should seriously consider seeking professional help. ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ Kristen's collection - Directory 79