Interrogation
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The interrogator leaned forward menacingly. “Is it then your testimony that you did these things, but don’t remember doing them?”

The Director nodded meekly. He was not used to being mauled like this.

Again the insistent disbelieving voice. “You said you felt a vague sense of deja vu when you heard the news of the nuclear plume. Tell me again what you mean by this!”

“I mean that it did not feel unexpected. It was like I somehow knew it would happen. Jees! Can we move ON?”

“Not until we can nail down how you might have known that this would transpire, Director. Now lets go back to . . . .”

The voices drilled on and on until the Director had had way too much.




The door to the well appointed conference room opened and the President walked in, his hair a bit tousled, his face tired from being woken at 2 o’clock in the morning.

“What is this about?” she asked without preamble.

The Director leaned forward and began his briefing for the President. “We believe that we have a nuclear bomb loose in the United States. We believe it came across the border from Mexico last week. We believe that it is of North Korean manufacture. We believe it is of low yield, but very dirty. Our agents have not been able to pick up its trail since it arrived. Certainty that it is in the US as of this date is 64.5 percent.”

“Where did this intel come from?” asked the President.

“Mossad. From an agent that has almost become our soul intelligence source from the Israelis.”

The President sat back in her overstuffed chair, tenting her finger tips as she looked at the far right corner of the ornate ceiling. She then sat forward, fixing her eyes on the Director. “Contact Mossad. Do it now. Find me this contact person and bring her to me.”

The President stood and walked out, heading back to bed. She was gone before the men could stand to acknowledge her leaving.




Madi was still pissed. “Damn it Kevin, look at me! Why in the world did you do this to me?” She was again standing in front of the mirror looking at her little ‘i’ that dotted her cleft.

“Madi, damn it honey, I did no such thing! You know as well as I do that we were both duped, and the agent had her way with us. Now please let’s not even talk about this again. It was embarrassing enough having my crotch photographed and having the pictures shown to every one at the agency. YOU better just hope they won’t come here and want to take your photos, honey!” Kevin winced, he knew instantly he had just said the wrong thing to his wife.

She spluttered “WHAT? They might come here and take pictures of my . . . . . .Damn it Kevin, don’t you dare let them come take pictures of my . . . . . !”




Kevin was almost asleep when he felt his wife’s hand slide over his hip and descend toward his member. It was always a welcome event, even if it was occurring less and less as time went on.

His wife pulled his hip toward her. Kevin helped her efforts by turning onto his back. When his wife’s mouth voraciously devoured his still rising penis, he knew SOMEthing had turned her on.

Her hungry mouth was taking all of him for the first time that he could ever remember. His wife was truly on fire tonight! He felt his cock begin to pulse and swell even more.

“Oh god baby, ya’ll are so hard tonight! I love it when ya’ll are really hard!” She moaned as she rode him harder and harder, her tits beginning to slap together. Her pussy lips were riding his cock shaft like a steam locomotive on a steel rail.

The Director happily went with the flow, savoring the scent of her arousal, enjoying her slick wetness sliding back and forth on his shaft as she rode him. Her breasts were wobbling erotically in her overwrought randy horizontal humpings of her husbands steely shaft.

Suddenly, needing penetration in the worst way, she reached down and raised his spear impaling her wetness on his helmeted soldier, groaning in ecstasy as she took him as deep as he could go.

‘God she is wet!’ he thought. Her body began to shimmer in an unexplained shimmy of deliverance. ‘She has never come that fast!’ he mused, trying hard to last long enough.

Her pussy began to clench as she rode him. It was too much. The Director bucked his hips against his wife’s snuggling randiness as he spewed forth his little white children into her sodden playground.


The Director was almost asleep when it hit him. His normally staid, placid wife had gotten so turned on tonight because he had mentioned that the staff might come take pictures of her naked crotch! He grinned widely at this useful knowledge. He intended to take advantage of his new found understanding of his Southern Belle wife. Paybacks could sometimes be a bitch!

The Bad News

The Director was sitting alongside the Secretary of State. The FBI leaned over and asked “Did you notice what I noticed?”

“Damn straight I did. How the hell did the President know the Mossad agent was a female? Makes me wonder if she isn’t compromised as well.”

Just then the door opened. The two men leapt to their feet.

“Please sit gentlemen!” The President stepped in behind her desk and sat down. She steepled her fingers and stared at the men. “Well, where is she?”

The Secretary of State jumped into the conversation first. “We can’t find her, Madam President. We have tried all of our previous avenues and have had no results.”

The Director of the CIA added, “We have notified all of the proper people that we need her to get ahold of us. She has a special code word she uses when she contacts us. Madam President, it would not surprise us one bit, given her past methods, that she would call you direct. Please let the switch board know that if a female calls and gives the proper code word, they should get her connected with us as quickly as possible.”

“And what is the code word, Kevin?”

The Director blushed uncontrollably. “P-Pussy.” he finally stammered.

“P-Pussy?” she repeated, totally surprised.

The Secretary of State could not help but guffaw. His outburst caused him to also blush bright red. “Sorry.”

Just then the President’s red desk phone rang. Her slim hand snatched up the handset in the blink of an eye. She said nothing, simply listening for a few seconds. She murmured “Put her on.” She stabbed the speaker button and said “Yes?”

A heavily accented Yiddish voice asked “Are ve secure?”

The President answered crisply, “This is the President, and yes, we are secure. You are on speaker phone. I have present the Secretary of State and the Director of the CIA.”

Her voice was load and clear. “P-Pussy” came softly through the speaker phone.

Rather than feeling like chuckling, the hair stood up on the back of their collective necks.

“Nort 40 degrees, 44 meenutes, 55.49 seconds; vest 73 degrees 59 meenutes, 8.3 seconds at an elewation of 407.015 mayterrrrssss.”

The Director had a gut wrenching feeling that he knew exactly where the bomb was at that exact very second: downtown New York City , near the top floor of a very tall building, giving the bombs blast range the ability to obliterate for a thousand years the whole down town core of Manhattan ! He knew also that the bomb’s EMP would destroy all electronics and computers for over three hundred miles in all directions.

“You have two hoursss, sewen meenutessss. May Gohd have mahrsssy.”

The phone line went dead.

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