WHAT IS YOUR PLEASURE, MR. BOND? part 1
James Bond awoke from a light nap to the delightful sight of a small head bobbing slowly in his lap, the girl's shimmering black hair fanned over his belly. He had to crane his head a little to see the mole on the girl's left shoulder to realize that it was Ping working with measured precision on his stiff cock.
"Thank you, Ping, my darling," he said and glanced up at the cloudless blue sky above.
Ping let his cock slip from her mouth with a soft, wet pop. She smiled sweetly up at him before resuming her task, firmly holding onto the base which caused the veins to swell, her tongue traced them along the length of the thick shaft. Her hands gently kneaded Bond's balls.
Bond noticed Pong seated nearby dreamily working two fingers up her own cunt, but she was not a bystander for very long, rising from her deck chair and knealing behind Ping and began noisily eating out her companions cunt, whilst continuing to masturbate herself.
Still goggy, Bond watched this scene. Two weeks prior he was freezing in a small Sibirian town sporting a thick beard concocted by Q via a formula which eccelerated hair growth where applied. He hated the damn thing and felt a great weight aleviated when he shaved it off. But that was meely the tip of the iceberg. It had been well over a year since he had had a proper vacation, moving from one mission to another which left him battered both body and spirit. An appeal to M for leave went unacknowledged but he threaten to resign M (who never responded very well to threats from subordinates) finally allowed him his vacation time. There were plenty of other Double O agents on active duty at the moment (Bond reasoned) that his abscense would not effect current missions. He was granted a three week leave.
The island resort resembled the hind leg of a horse, Bond thought as his helicopter made it's approach to its own landing area. A car awaited and whisked him in the utmost elegance to his private villa. It was on a trip back to the mainland to enjoy the local nigtlife where he would eventually meet Ping and her friend Pong. He always had an affection for Asian girls. They had a strange feline quality about them that appealed to Bond. He took them back to the island where they would stay as his guests.
All the aggrivation of the job seemed to fade away now as he now lifted Ping up by her underarms much to the annoyed little wimper of Pong who was now left kneeled on the ground with her face shimmering with Ping's pussy juice. Neither girl weighed no more than a hundred pounds and were easy to lift and Bond effortlessly lifted Ping up and poised her to be impaled upon his gorged cock. Pong watched as Bond's sizeable cock slowly disappeared up into her friend's pussy. It was prepped and eager to be satisied. Pong reached over and stroked the portion of Bond's cock still exposed. It was more than half way in at this moment and Ping was wriggling like a worm on a hook as the thick proportions stretched her open in the most delightful way. She sighed and spoke in a language that was unfamiliar to Bond, but there were many regional dialects that were only understood by the locals and sounded like gibberish to foreign ears. Bond could not quite pinpoint their geographical origin, but he repressed this suspicion which was an occupational hazard in his line of work. Pong squeezed Bond's testicles and spoke in a similiar language.
Bond had had enough teasing. Ping was riding the knob of his cock, slipping down an inch or two but withdrawing again. He seized her hips and f***ed her down and with a loud shriek Bond's cock was buried deep into her pussy. The tightness was extraordinary and once she opened herself up to him she began riding him with enthusiasim.
Pong refused to be excluded and squated down over Bond's face and she giggled when his tongue ran wild over the landscape of her cunt, teasing the clitoris until it was hard as a small pebble. He nibbled on it which provoked more cries in her native tongue. Abruptly the girls switched positions and it was now Pong lowering herself down over Bond's cock which was heavily lubricated by Ping's pussy juice. She slid in gracefully, not as timid as her companion but a control o her vaginal muscles which delighted Bond. They clutched his shaft tightly, contacting and opening with a contoled regularity. Bond lay back on the deck chair and allowed himself to be fucked by this amazing young woman.
But even Bond had his limitations and it was nearly an hour since they began. The girls finished him off by alternately sucking his cock. While one worked his cock the other sucked his balls and then they traded. Bond wished to savor the pleasure for as long as possible before at last allowing himself to ejaculate. Ping's face was heavily glazed by the time he was finished and Pong was soaked as well. They wiped themselves off and ran to the pool.
Bond settled back into the deck chair and sipped his drink but the melted ice had made it tastless by this time. He watched the girls. Ping was at one end of the pool and Pong was at the end with the spring board.
"One...two...three," the girls called out in unison.
Pink had hit the water first and a bright flash blinded Bond momentarily. He could see Pong in midair seeing her friend floating in the water as she was about to meet a similar fate. She screamed helplessly and a second flash confirmed to Bond that the pool had been electrified.
He stood by the pool looking down at Ping and Pong drifting lifelessly. He went back into the villa and dialed the main office.
"Yes, Mr. Bond," a man on the other end replied cheerfully.
"There's been an accident," Bond started to say.
"May I know the necessary details, Mr. Bond?"
"There seems to have been a short in the wiring of the lights in my pool. My two guests have tragically been electrified."
"A horrible occurance, Mr. Bond," said the man. "May I suggest you head into town for dinner and I will have my crew come round to your villa and clean everything up for you."
Bond accepted the suggestion and reservations were made at a popular resturant. Bond tried not to steal glances at them in the pool but he could not help himself. He showered, shaved, and dressed in a casual suit.
The telephone rang just as he was heading for the door.
Before he could speak he heard a voice on the other end say:
"Do not mourn too gravely for your two guests, Mr. Bond, they were not exactly who you believed them to be."
The line went dead before Bond had a chance to utter a single word. It was not the voice of the man from the main office, but it sounded vaguely familiar to Bond. He replaced the phone and was taken to the small dock where a boat awaited him. He imagined a small army of employees of the resort descending on the villa, plucking Ping and Pong out of the pool like a pair of dead autumn leaves. He saw much death in his profession but this felt excessive. Was he the true target. Obviously someone had to rig the electrical system so that anyone going in for a leisurely dip was in for the schock of a lifetime.