“Well, what do you think?” he asked like an excited child.
“A Robin Reliant?” Blond frowned.
“Your powers of observation leave me speechless. But this is no ordinary Robin Reliant.”
“Thank fuck for that.”
“I realize that you’re over the moon, beside yourself with excitement, but try not to swear. You’ll notice that the vehicle is finished in a rather fetching primrose yellow.”
“Will I, sir?”
“You will if you look at the vehicle rather than that fucking girlie calendar on the wall.”
“Sorry, but I thought I recognized those wet pouting lips from somewhere. Had her face been in frame, I might have been able to place ...”
“Will you stop rambling and listen! Now, this is most important. Important to the point of extreme importance. This is no ordinary paint, Blond. It might look like ordinary paint but it contains a lethal quantity of cyanide. One lick, and you’re dead.”
10
I wish I could give mine a lick
.
“If your hands come into contact with the paint for more than a couple of minutes, you’ll drop dead.”
“That should keep the traffic wardens at bay. I would have thought the registration a give away, sir. I mean, any fool will know who I am with BLOND ONE plastered all over ...”
“That’s where you’re wrong, as usual. Any fool will realize that it’s not you because only a fool such as you would have such plates.”
“If only a fool such as me would have such plates then it stands to reason that it’s my car.”
“That’s the whole point, Blond. Being the fool that you are, you’d have plates like that which in turn would indicate that it’s not your car.”
“I see. Well, I don’t see but it doesn’t matter.”
“It’s lateral thinking, Bond.”
“Yes, right. Might I ask why I’ll not be driving an Aston Martin?”
“Because you’re a painter and decorator.”
“Am I?”
“Indeed, you are.”
“I thought you said I was an arsehole.”
“You’re both. How many painters and decorators do you see driving Aston Martins?”
“Quite a few, actually.”
“How many?”
“Well, none.”
“Exactly. You’ll be working in the Houses of Parliament, redecorating the hallways. The first thing you’ll do is pick up ...”
11
“Horny little tarts, sir?”
“No! You’ll pick up snippets of information, discover who’s into perverted sex, and befriend one of the guilty members. All you have to do is drop a few hints to get in with him.
You know the sort of thing I have in mind.”
“I know exactly what you have in mind, sir. Once I’ve located and befriended a pervert, I’ll get chatting to him.” Blond folded his arms, his dark eyes looking up to the ceiling as he smiled. “How’s this for starters? I could do with a quick shag. I don’t suppose you know any horny birds with hot, wet, tight ...”
“No, Blond, that’s not the sort of fucking thing I had in mind,” Spew returned. “Subtlety is the name of the game.”
“I thought prostitution was the name of the game. OK, how’s this? Er ... Could I do with eating some hot, juicy pussy, or what?”
Spew shook his head agitatedly. “No, no, no,” he sighed. “Try this one. I have an idea that we’re like-minded perverts. Wink wink, nod nod. We must get together for a chat.”
“What if he’s a brown dirt cowboy, sir?”
“A what?”
“A cocoa shunter, a chutney farmer, a chocolate runway pilot, a ...”
“What the fucking hell are you talking about, Blond?”
“Language, sir. What I meant was, what if he’s gay?”
“Gay? Ah, that’s a good point. In fact, it’s a bloody good point. I’m glad I thought of it.
Should he turn out to be gay ... I’ll leave it to you, Blond. I’m sure you’ll come up with something.”
“I’m sure I will!” Blond chuckled as Miss Honeycunny approached. “Sooner than later, if my olfactory nerves are correct and that’s hot, wet fanny I can smell.”
12
Eyeing the young woman’s long legs, Blond adjusted the bulging crotch of his trousers.
His penis stiffening as he imagined her naked body writhing in orgasm as he crudely shafted her tight pussy, he brushed his dark hair back with his fingers. He reckoned that her suckable fish flaps were dripping with goose grease as she flashed him a salacious smile and winked at him.
There again, Blond reckoned that all women’s suckable fish flaps were dripping with goose grease.
Time to spurt my spunk and drain my bollocks
, he reflected as she ran her hands over the violin curves of her young body. Cupping the fullness of her rounded beasts as Blond’s eyes widened, she wiggled her shapely hips.
“Haynes,” she said huskily, provocatively licking her succulent red lips as she tossed her long golden locks over her shoulder. “It’s been a long time.”
“Time can be a long time at times. In fact, I’ve not had it since I was body-searched by a naked stewardess at Gatwick Airport last Friday. And that time last Friday was a long time ago.”
“I’m sure we can do something to put that right. Do you need the loo?”
“Er ... No, why?”
“It doesn’t matter. It was just a passing fantasy. A fantasy that has passed me time and time again during my long and lonely nights and left me wondering what life is really about and ...”
“Miss Honeycunny,” Spew interrupted her in annoyance, mopping his brow with a handkerchief. “We are
not
here to discuss sex.”
“Aren’t we? Oh, I mean ... No, sir.”
“What was it you wanted?”
“I know what I want!” Blond chuckled. “A tight, wet, squelchy ...”
13
“Shut the fuck up, Blond! Miss Honeycunny, how can I help you?”
“The sleaze file, sir,” she smiled, trying to forget her fantasy and appear concerned. “It’s missing.”
“My God!” Spew gasped.
“Fuck me!” Blond breathed.
“Any time,” Honeycunny smiled.
“What do you mean,
missing
?” Spew asked, rubbing his pointed chin.
“It was in the filing cabinet yesterday, and now it’s gone.”
“There’s a mole in our midst,” Spew murmured pensively.
“There’s a fanny in our midst,” Blond sniggered, gazing longingly at Honeycunny’s shapely hips as Spew dashed to his office to answer the phone.
Lifting her short skirt and displaying the triangle of tight, red silk bulging to contain her swollen sex lips, Honeycunny let out a rush of breath as she walked behind the car. She was a horny little beauty, he observed as he followed her, his penis twitching as he eyed the white fish-juice stain on the crotch of her panties. Out of sight of the lab assistants, he unzipped his trousers, hauling his erect cock out and rolling his foreskin back to reveal the bulbous knob of his rock-hard shaft. Kneeling before him, Honeycunny wasted no time in taking his purple plum into her hot mouth and fervently sucking and slurping like a starving babe at the breast.
“You haven’t lost your touch,” Blond gasped, driving his glans to the back of her hot, spunkable throat. “Or your tongue.”
“Mmm, mmm,” she moaned through her nose, rolling her inquisitive wet tongue over the silky-smooth surface of his twitching knob.
14
“You’re a good cock sucker, Honeyfucker. I mean, Honeysucker, Cunnyfucker ...
Honeycunny. Oh, what the fuck.”
“Haynes,” she said pensively, slipping his saliva-glistening knob out of her hot mouth and looking up at him. “Why have you never fucked me?”
“You know I can’t do that, baby. To shove my meaty fleshpole up your juicy spunk pot and release my spunk would be tantamount to screwing you.”
Her sky-blue eyes frowning, she cocked her head to one side. “That’s the idea,” she said, somewhat puzzled.
“Yes, but Spew won’t allow it.”
“Spew won’t allow anything that involves having fun with sex,” she sighed wistfully.
“Talking of which, do you need the loo?”
“No, I don’t. Why do you ask?”
“Just another passing fantasy. I do wish you’d fuck me, Haynes.”
“One day, I might fuck you. Anyway, don’t speak with your mouth full.”
“It’s not full.”
“It is now.”
Driving his orgasm-ready glans deep into her hot mouth, Haynes gasped and writhed in oral ecstasy. Honeycunny’s head moving back and forth as she crudely mouth-fucked herself, she closed her eyes, lost in her wanton act of fellatio. Blond looked up at the ceiling as his heavy balls rolled and his purple crown twitched and swelled within her gobbling mouth. This was heaven, he reflected as she wanked his solid shaft and kneaded his full balls. But it would be hell if Spew returned!
15
His throbbing glans absorbing the wet heat of her sperm-thirsty mouth, he knew that he had very little time as he heard Spew bang the phone down and yell something unintelligible. His sperm finally coursing along his veined shaft and jetting from his pulsating glans, he breathed heavily as Honeycunny sucked and drank from his ballooning fountainhead. On and on his spunk gushed, bathing her pink tongue, spraying the back of her throat, dribbling down her chin as his heavy balls drained. Repeatedly swallowing his gushing sperm, moaning through her nose as she wanked his rock-hard shaft and sucked on his throbbing knob, she sank her teeth into his veined cock. The last of his male cream spurting from his slit as Spew’s footsteps grew louder, Blond pulled away, hurriedly withdrawing his saliva-dripping penis from the woman’s sperm-brimming mouth.
“What the fuck’s going on?” Spew asked as Honeycunny rose to her feet and licked her spunk-glistening lips.
“Er ... Nothing, sir,” Blond grinned, zipping his trousers.
“What were you doing?”
Fucking Honeycunny’s wet mouth
. “Scratching my bollocks again, sir.”
“Why were you both hiding behind the car?”
“Er ... Any luck with the missing sleaze file?”
“I haven’t looked into it yet.”
“I realize that,” Blond chuckled.
“Then, why ask?”
“You can’t look into the file because it’s missing.”
“I mean ... Never mind. Why are you shaking?”
16
“Lack of alcohol causes me to shake like a leaf in the wind, sir. I’ll be all right once the wind drops. I mean, once the pubs open.”
“You’re to keep away from pubs, Blond.”
“I wonder what the weather forecast is?”
“Hot, wet and windy. Miss Honeycunny, instead of standing around licking your wet lips, go and search for the missing file.”
“I only wish I
could
lick my wet lips!” she giggled. “Sorry, I meant my pussy lips ... No, I didn’t.”
“The missing file, Miss Honeycunny.”
“Lick the missing file? Oh, I see. Straight away, sir.”
As the woman strutted across the lab, Blond eyed the swell of her rounded buttocks.
Pondering on the tight and no doubt fingerable entrance to her rectum, he recalled his contact in Tokyo. The eighteen-year-old bisexual nymphomaniac was desperate to marry Blond and live in England. She was a good fuck, he reflected. Her forte was shoving a cucumber up her anal shaft and using a rubber hose connected to a vacuum pump to suck orgasms out of her inch-long clitoris. While her naked body shuddered and writhed, she’d feed her vaginal throat with grapes and suck her nipples into her hot mouth to add to her debased pleasure. She also put on excellent schoolgirlie lesbian shows for Blond’s benefit, but to marry the girl?
“Now that she’s out of earshot, I’ll tell you a secret,” Spew whispered mysteriously, placing his hand on Blond’s shoulder.
17
“She’s in Japan, sir,” Blond murmured, lifting Spew hand off his shoulder and wondering whether the man fancied him. “I hardly think she’ll hear you from there. Especially with the vacuum pump running flat out.”
“What? I was talking about Honeycunny. Who the fuck were you talking about?”
“Fukie Fanny, my horny bit of ... My contact in Japan. Funnily enough, she’s Japanese.”
“Stop waffling, Blond. I’ve just received a phone call from Special Agent, Dick Shaft.”
“Good old Dickie. How the fuck is the old perv?”
“In rather an awkward spot. And don’t swear.”
“I didn’t fucking swear.”
“You fucking did, and you’re doing it again.”
“You’re the one who keeps fucking swearing, sir.”
“Don’t fucking argue. To answer your question, Dick’s chained naked to a wall in a stenching hell-hole of a rat-infested, disease-ridden, puss-bubbling, spunk-flooded prison in the darkest depths of fucking Siberia.”
“Sounds nice. Was it a package holiday or ...”
“You’re pushing your luck, Blond.”
“Sorry, sir. I must say that it was rather sporting of his jailers to allow him to use the phone.”
“Are you completely mad, Blond?”
“Not completely, sir. I’d say, on a scale of one to ten ...”
“Shut up. Of course they didn’t allow him to use the fucking phone.”
“You’re swearing yet again, sir.”
“Shut the fuck up, Blond! Due to his professional training and years of experience in the field, he had the sense to nip out and use a local call box.”
18
“Dickie always had initiative. It’s just as well he also had a ten-pence piece on him.”
“The point is that he’s discovered the phrase used by foreign agents to confirm the authenticity of their contacts.”
Rubbing his chin, Blond thought for a moment. “What does that mean in plain English, sir?” he finally asked.
“An agent meets whom he believes to be his contact, right?”
“Where?”
“It could be in a bar or ... It doesn’t matter where the fuck it is. The agent says,
do you
have the time?
The contact replies,
it’s twelve-fifteen
.”
“Excuse me for asking, sir. What if it happens to be five o’clock?”
“It doesn’t fucking matter what time it is, the answer’s the same. It’s twelve-fifteen.”
“What if it really
is
twelve-fifteen, sir?”
“Blond, it wouldn’t matter what the fucking time was.”
“You’re swearing again, sir. My point is, if the agent asks someone the time and it really
is
twelve-fifteen, the agent will incorrectly believe that he’s found his contact. His assumed correctness will be incorrectly assumed. Assumed incorrect assumptions can be wholly incorrect and subsequently very dangerous.”