Kincaid is an elite undercover operative of one of France's most secretive of spy agencies who is tasked by his agency and sent on a never ending mission to steal as much information as he can from the world's leading technological companies, by all possible means.
In this first book, La Femme Michele- Paris Noir, we are witness as the young and beautiful Michele Hudson is sexually liberated from her stifled marriage, seduced by the new man who unleashes her wild erotic side, all of which leads her becoming a trained operative of Kincaid's, known simply by her French code name “La Femme.”
The setting for this opening tale of sex, intrigue, decadence, adventure, romance, and love is the dark and noir high-tech world of Paris during the second decade of the 21st Century.
It was a warm sunny day as Kincaid sat at his computer at the café overlooking the same French naval yard where he had first left for the shores to fight for his homeland during the Persian Gulf War, nearly 30 years prior. The memories of that time were short-lived though as he sat at the café alone that Sunday afternoon, and watched the new generation of stealth corvettes head out to join the German navy in their stand off with the Americans of the shores of Germania, the newly formed Nazi dictatorship in what was the southwest African nation of Namibia. Despite the looming threat of war between the former NATO allies, Kincaid's mind was buried in the past, as he surfed the wireless Internet, via a wi-fi connection on his old Sony Vaio, and thought of his former lover Ukiko, the woman, just a few years prior, off the shores of Bermuda, he had been forced to sacrifice deep below the ocean surface.
After he entered the Internet forum that was devoted to the subject of French culture, he browsed around the recent posts, he spotted a message from a user with the handle of la femme michele, who introduced herself to the group and gave as much of a life story as one can give in four sentences. According to Michele’s post, she was a 25-year-old housewife living with her husband of seven years in the suburbs of Chicago, where her husband worked as the chief computer scientist at Motorola's military technology division. Michele said that she was hopefully going to visit Paris someday, with her mother or a friend, since her husband had a terrible phobia of flying, and that she hoped a real Parisian could tell her more about the City of Lights.
Had Kincaid not been at that exact spot in Marseilles at that particular moment in time, and in the mood he was in, he would have never even had entered the forum nor seen the young woman's introductory post. Had it not been for the fact that she had claimed that her husband was a high level employee at Motorola, he would have never considered answering the American woman's query, but as fate would have it, he did. For you see, Kincaid had recently been tasked, by his agency, with exploring the vulnerability of American and Japanese companies with significant military technology contracts, of which Motorola was on the top of a very short list. As he sipped his Heineken, and watched as the aircraft carrier, Napoleon, slipped out of the bay onward to the ensuing confrontation off the shores of Walvis Bay, Kincaid began to think of how to reply, all the while studying the supple body of the young dark haired Japanese waitress. Upon the departure of the waitress, Kincaid began to type:
Madame Michele,
Please all me to introduce myself my name is Deckard Gregoir Kincaid, but my friends simply call me Kincaid and I live and work in Paris. I am a civil servant and single. I would love to chat with you and tell you more about my fair city.
Sincerely,
D.G. Kincaid
From that letter on Kincaid and Michele exchanged e-mail and chatted, via instant messaging, at least once or twice a week, but as time went on, and they each began to reveal more of themselves, the conversations and subjects went from being safe, to those that one can only share with a stranger. Their conversations often went on for hours as they described in detail their deepest and darkest fantasies, as well as their own dirty secrets. As they chatted and e-mailed Michele became more and more infatuated with the thought and fantasy of going to Paris, taking a lover, and leaving what she felt was a boring existence that had little of the adventure and passion she craved or had been promised by her husband, Barry, on the night they were engaged.
For Michele, her world and her future had changed completely, when, on a Sunday morning, she saw in her e-mail box an attachment that simply was titled, “kincaid.jpg,” with a return address of theglobalsoul@cybernation.fr. As Michele studied the image, she could not help but say to herself, "Is this picture really him? It couldn't be, could it?" For, as Michele looked into the hauntingly familiar eyes of the man who appeared to be an older version of her lost soul mate, the one who broke her heart at the age of 19, she felt in her heart the burning ember of sexual inhibition that she had long ago thought that she would never feel, or want to experience, again…
Nine months later, as Michele walked off the plane, nearly ten hours after her Air France flight had left Chicago, she still could not believe that she was going through with what had just been a mere suggestion five days ago. It was only at her husbands urging that she had summoned the courage to not only fly, by herself, to a foreign country, but also put herself completely in the hands of what had been, until the day her plane ticket arrived in the mail, just a fantasy man who she never thought that she would actually meet.
The day before she left, Michele's husband had told her, during a moment of jealous rage, that she was crazy to travel alone to Paris to meet a man she had met online. It was this argument, in which Michele unloaded all of her complaints, threatened her husband with divorce if she tried to stand in her way of meeting Kincaid. Faced with the realization that she meant what she said, he backed down and apologized.
According to her husband's cell mate, whom Michele's husband had befriended as he awaited sentencing hearing on charges of distributing child pornography, Michele had written to him that the moment that he had replied to her first message, she felt there was an instant spark between them.
As Michele's husband further explained to his cell mate, Kincaid was from France, and that when his wife found out that he lived in Paris she almost didn't believe him, until, as her letter him in jail said,
"The day he sent me a picture of him at the top of the Eiffel Tower over looking the beautiful Champs de Mars and the majestic 'City of Lights' beyond. The picture was taken on a sunny day; his face was tanned, rugged, as the sun lit up his dark blond hair and blue-green eyes. It was a face that I knew that I had seen somewhere before, before I was married, but it could not be him, it just wasn't possible!
Upon seeing him, My pussy became moist as I gazed into his eyes and wondered what it must be like to make love to him and once again have my heart was captured by this all to familiar face. His rugged good looks reminded me, hauntingly; of that man I once knew and so deeply loved in my first and only year of college, which, because of the pain of our separation, even today I still cannot bear to write or speak his name.
He was a man in every sense of the word. He was a dreamer, poet, writer, and very much a cowboy who I am sure now travels the world looking for whatever it was that he had never found growing up at home. The last I heard of him, a mutual friend had said that the last she heard was that, 'Hess somewhere over China, and from what I heard he left a note that simply said he'd be home when he got back.'
Yet, as I looked at Kincaid's picture, I wondered if the man whom she was staring at was the Parisian reincarnation of the one whom I had loved and lusted after so much, and who caused me so much heartbreak and pain so many years ago when he never returned from war."
From that day on, according to her husband, Kincaid and Michele chatted online almost everyday, meeting in the same room at the same time. She said to her husband, that, “when we first chatted in a private room he was so kind and sweet,” saying things that quickly had her panties very wet. Michele told her husband though that she had made it very clear to Kincaid that she believed that she was happily married, and that she and her husband, Barry, had recently, upon his urging, had begun talking about opening their marriage up to new sexual possibilities.
For Kincaid it was because of this information, and the fact that she had revealed so many unfulfilled sexual desires, that he set about continuing their online courtship, for both his own personal and professional ends. However, throughout their online courtship, Kincaid was a true gentleman and didn't push her in any way, and he had made it clear to Michele that he did not want to cause any problems in her marriage. Finally, after nine months of chatting online and exchanging daily multiple regular, and often times erotic innuendo filled e-mails, she thought that she was ready to actually let Kincaid call her on her cellular phone. For the next week, after many e-mails regarding when to speak, they finally made a date for 8:00 a.m., her time, on a beautiful Sunday morning, when she would be out on her front porch swing. Michele’s husband wanted to be next to her so that he could listen in; however, for at least the first call, she decided that she would be less nervous if she were alone with no distractions.
That evening, even after a surprisingly passionate and romantic night of early love making with Barry, during which they tried several of the basic techniques of tantric sex that Kincaid had suggested, Michele could not help but feel restless, as she faded in and out of sleep dreaming about being with Kincaid, and living an adventure, in the city that was known for it's culture, music, history, romance and erotic flair. The dreams, when they finally did arrive, centered on her and Kincaid, and the fantasy life she had built in her mind. Her dreams were all about living the romantic and erotic life in Paris with this man of mystery whom she felt was so different than any other she had ever known. Finally, at about 6:00 a.m., just as the sun was peeking up over the horizon, Michele gave up on her rest, climbed out of bed, and went to make coffee.
On the other side of the Atlantic, Kincaid had just arrived home to his flat. He had spent the entire morning walking the streets of Paris and walking up and down the Seine, after an all night love making session with his African maid, Monique, all in an effort to calm himself down before he called Michele. The final two hours passed ever so slowly for both of them, as the minutes seemed like hours, and finally, when the anointed time came, Kincaid's hands trembled like a nervous young boy, as he picked up the phone and dialed the number that Michele had given him.
For even though Kincaid was nervous and felt his feelings for this woman grow, he knew that he had to maintain his composure and never let on his true motives for seducing this lovely woman. In their beginning chats online, which of course was by pure chance, Kincaid coaxed out of Michele more information about her husband's work at the Motorola Corporation, and it was because of this fact that Kincaid had been ordered to maintain their online courtship by the men in power who signed his paychecks. Kincaid was assigned to the French General Directorate of External Security (DGSE) where he was paid a king's ransom for being the agency's top economic espionage operative. During his long tenure with the DGSE, he had been directly responsible for the theft of billions of Euros worth of industrial and technological designs that now made certain French companies world leaders in the fields of computers and cheap high tech military weaponry.
Despite his orders to remain on the case, after about two months of innuendo filled polite chatting and some suggestive e-mails, Kincaid had already become infatuated with Michele and knew that he had to find out more about this lovely woman, whom he knew only from her words and the image of her that he had hacked out of the Illinois Secretary of State's master computer. The first time he saw her picture he knew he had to have her. Her recent photograph and petite measurements made it very clear to not just Kincaid, but also his faithful partner, Luc, and his personal assistant, Maurice, that Michele was a more attractive woman than she had honestly given herself credit for during their chats online and in their e-mail correspondence.
The more time went on, and their chats and e-mails became more personal and romantic, Kincaid became more and more aware of the troubles in Michele’s own marriage. It was clear to Kincaid, and to other's who knew Michele well, that she married and settled down much to early in life. Seven years into her marriage, which at best she could describe as “comfortable but passionless,” she had begun to search for an emotional escape from Barry, despite his recent suggestions in opening up their marriage to new partners. She found that emotional escape valve in her computer and CyberNation account. Barry now made enough money at Motorola so that Michele was able to escape her office job which she had held since she was 18. She was reluctant to leave her friends, but Barry pushed the idea, partly because he did not like the fact that her friends had told Michele not to marry Barry and for her to chase down and find that man she had loved so passionately when she was a wild 19 year old.
Eventually Barry’s pressure for her to quit overwhelmed her, and she left; however, a part of her hated him because, in essence, she felt like he had succeeded in breaking her independent and rebellious ways, and she was now dependent upon him for everything, from sex, food, money, and nearly everything else. That is why she loved the computer, as well as her journals, all of which she had locked away, in her trunk in the closet. It was in those handwritten journals that Michele had written her most erotic thoughts, none of which she had ever revealed to Barry, for she was afraid that he would try to use them against her one day, despite his desire to expand their sexual horizons.
For Michele and Barry, as the years of their marriage went by, the thought of having children was just that, a mere thought. For Barry, the subject of sex was one that only interested him if it involved watching porn, and then, and only then was he able to become excited enough to sleep with Michele. Michele wanted much more out of her love and sex life, as she wrote in her journals, than Barry was willing and able to give or even express an interest in.
Now that she was married and lived in a big house with few friends to spend time with, the opportunities for a safe sexually fulfilling affair seemed remote. There was only one dangerous and forbidden subject that even piqued the interest of Barry when it came to sex, that was the subject of an “indecent proposal.” The idea came from Barry’s second favorite Demi Moore movie, whom he always thought that Michele, in many ways resembled. Barry’s other favorite Demi Moore movie was were 'Striptease' and 'Disclosure,' with the first one being known for her boobs, while the other one Barry loved for the computers. Finally, as for romance, in Michele’s mind there was none, neither in the months before or since they had married.
For Kincaid, the opportunity to know more about Michele came over the course of that Christmas and New Year, as Michele and Barry traveled for two weeks to spend the holidays with his mother in Arizona. According to the airline reservation system, which Kincaid easily hacked into from his part time lover Katya's beach house on the Riviera, Michele and her husband had purchased non- refundable tickets. With this knowledge securely in hand, Kincaid went about planning his trip to Chicago for the same time period so that he could learn much more about this angelic woman and somehow find a way to convince her to come to Paris and see what an adventurous life she could live, if only she could sample such an experience first hand.
In the weeks that led to his departure for Chicago, Kincaid called in all the resources he had at his disposal to plan his trip and get inside the Hudson home. Kincaid was able to access a large number of commercial and classified French spy satellite imagery photographs to see just exactly where the Hudson house was, and what the layout of the neighborhood was. The French had taken such photographs of the area, as Michele and Barry had bought a large mansion less than two miles from the sprawling Motorola corporate campus. Kincaid then accessed a number of U.S. government databases that gave him information as to both Michele’s and Barry’s social security numbers. With these numbers, Kincaid knew, he had full access to most, if not all, of the information he would need to help him both get the girl, while at the same time infiltrate Motorola and gain access to their most profitable secrets.
At the same time Michele and Barry’s plane lifted off from Chicago en route to Chicago, there arrived, on board the regular Air Canada flight from Montreal, via Paris, a Frenchman who went by the name of Pierre P. LePue, from Cherbourg. The trip to Chicago had not been Kincaid's first, but it had definitely been more than a year. For the first 24 hours after his arrival, Kincaid surveyed the area around the Hudson home, which was protected by Brinks Security system. The Brinks Company was by far the easiest of the home security companies in America to hack into, and by the next morning all of the home's shields light timers had been taken down and off-line. All one now had to do was walk up to any door and turn the knob and enter the empty domicile. The reason for this was simple, Barry wanted to have a showcase smart home, but he never really thought about the fact that someone could hack into his Brinks account and simply turn off the magnetic locks, none of which had a manual override, but then again neither did the people at Brinks who designed the system.
That night, as everyone in the neighborhood headed out to parties or Christmas Eve mass, Kincaid slipped into the neighborhood, on foot, through the forest preserve and walked up and in to the Hudson home. Once inside, Kincaid took out his laptop, dialed into the Brinks computer system and put back online the Hudson's light timers, so that at 5:00 p.m., all of the lights in the house slowly began to turn randomly turn on, room by room, so that on the outside it appeared that someone was at home celebrating the holiday. Once the lights were on, Kincaid did his best to avoid to avoid walking by any windows in the front of the house. Fortunately for him Michele and Barry’s computers were in the basement office, while Michele’s journals were in locked in her night stand and her trunks at the foot of the bed, along with several erotic novels, including 'Emmanuelle', and 'The Story of O' .
Since Kincaid's trip was being paid for by the French government, he thought it best to focus on the person whom justified the travel expenditures, Barry. Barry’s office was much like that of Kincaid's, cluttered with computers and peripherals; however, the information he sought was on Barry’s Simtec desktop computer. Kincaid sat down at the machine and booted it up. While the machine went through its start up routine, Kincaid fished out of his backpack his laptop, as well as his CD of hacking tools and password breaking programs, and a Subway sandwich and bottle of Evian, for Kincaid refused to drink American water. The décor of the office was very plain, and if his choice of furnishings was any indication, unless it was a book devoted to computer programming languages, Barry likely had never, as Kincaid's favorite singer wrote and sang, “read dozens of books about heroes and crooks.” While Kincaid was very patriotic, and worried about American domination in the fields of computers and advanced weaponry, he could not help but admire American authors, singers and song writers, especially those like Hemingway, Buffett, and Waller.
It did not take long for Kincaid to figure out how to get into Barry’s Motorola account, since like every typical computer programmer, he wrote down his passwords on a notepad next to mouse pad. For the next four hours Kincaid completely filled each of the 50 DVDs disks up with all of the information that they could hold. However, this information that Kincaid now safely stored away in his bag, and which he would then make backup copies later and then FedEx back to Paris, was only the tip of the iceberg. As he monitored the information downloads Kincaid explored the contents of Barry’s office, which in Kincaid's mind screamed out that Barry loved his machines as much, if not more, than his wife. Kincaid sensed that the responsibilities of Barry’s job, and his career goals, had somehow over the years had caused him to neglect his wife's needs.
It was also apparent that Barry was a bit of a materialistic neat and control freak as Kincaid went through Barry’s financial records and saved to a CD, all of the bank information he would need to launch the next part of his plan in separating Michele from Barry. At about 11 p.m., Kincaid had finished his mission of downloading all the needed information from Motorola's computers. On the disks were all the company secrets, including the master passwords, which Kincaid planned on using to infiltrate Motorola, as well as blackmail Barry, should he refuse to comply with the 'indecent proposal' that would soon be offered to him. Kincaid then turned off the computer and closed the door. Two weeks later, when Barry returned home he would miss the message on his computer, as he turned to watch the winning field goal of the Rose Bowl, which said that he last logged onto the Motorola system at 5:15 p.m. on 12/24/19.
For the next two weeks, every night, after night had fallen, Kincaid continued his trips to the Hudson house as he read and copied, via a compact digital scanner, not just Michele’s current journal, but the most lurid parts of her other past journal volumes which had been written since she was 18 years old. In all Michele’s thoughts, feelings, fears, dreams, and fantasies covered 20 leather bound volumes. For Kincaid, he would have to read and work fast if he were to truly know and understand this woman whom he had come to love and whom he wanted to possess for his own. As he read through Michele’s diaries he saw that this woman was exactly the type of woman he could love, and who could also, at the same time, fulfill his own sexually daring, voyeuristic, and sadistic fantasies.
The diary entries about her sexual desires made even a man like Kincaid, a man whose sexual exploits in the field of international espionage, blush like a school girl. Several times, as he read, he had gotten so worked up reading about Michele’s fantasies that he had to jerk himself off just so he could keep reading with a coherent mind. In her diaries were erotic stories and dreams of rapes, voyeurism, exhibitionism, romantic encounters, threesomes, kidnappings, gang bangs, dark alleyway encounters, lesbian love, submission, anal sex, butt plugs, dildos, bestiality, doctor visits, bondage, asphyxiation, sex with robots, etc…
Most of the tales and dreams of lust were all written well after the advent of the Internet, but when Kincaid ran a system scan on her own computer; he found no traces of porn on the system. Yet, on her husband's system there was a long trail of web sites that catered to the male voyeur, such as those that had hidden web cameras in teenage female locker rooms. As Kincaid rechecked Barry’s system, he planted, on the computer, a Trojan horse, which when it was activated, would download Motorola's computer secret defense research and send it to a special FBI e-mail account. For Kincaid, this was his true ace in the hole, and it was also one that he would activate, but only if Barry refused to accept and go along with his indecent proposal.
Several days later, by the time he had completed reading her last journal, which it turned out was the first one she had wrote, which described her brief affair with a man whom Kincaid thought he himself might have met some years ago when he was traveling through Iowa to visit John Wayne’s hometown of Winterset, he felt that he knew better than her husband exactly what kind of woman Michele was, and more importantly the kind of woman she wanted to be. The kind of woman Michele wanted to be, and the type of man she wanted to have, were completely opposite from the reality that Kincaid now found himself investigating as he set about looking at her clothes and taking notes as to her shoe and dress sizes. It was readily apparent to Kincaid that Michele was an X rated version of the character Francesca in the book The Bridges of Madison County, a book she had never heard of until he had suggested it to her early on during their online courtship.
It was the same book that Barry had commented on one night as being a trashy married woman's fantasy. His comments on the movie, according to a message Michele sent to Kincaid one night, were even worse. However, it was pure coincidence that Kincaid had the same name as the cowboy hero of the book, but he felt it was a prophetic book for him. Kincaid envisioned himself as the cyberpunk computer cowboy version of Robert Kincaid, but he left the cowboy look to his best friend Luc. Kincaid's look bordered on the cyberpunk military edge. For Kincaid most of his wardrobe consisted of trench coats, conservative suits, and dark clothes, all of which were practical choices in the world of industrial, high-tech, and computer espionage.
The last thing that Kincaid did, on that final night in the Hudson home, just hours before Michele and Barry’s return, was to look at their family and wedding photographs, just so he could see more of the woman whom he hoped would someday be his in Paris. The wedding pictures of Michele were beautiful, as were all of the pictures of her. Kincaid desperately wanted to take one for himself as a souvenir, but he knew that if she ever found it, that all his work and planning to obtain the love of his life he had been so desperately seeking, would cause his entire world to crash down.
Hours later at the airport, as he waited for his delayed flight to Montreal to depart, Kincaid, hidden behind a pair of Rayban sunglasses, watched from a bench as Michele and Barry picked up their luggage from the carousel. It was obvious, from the look on her face, that she had not enjoyed the trip. As she unknowingly passed him, just inches away, Kincaid took off his sunglasses and watched her tight ass, in designer jeans, walk slowly out of her reach. “So close, yet so far,” Kincaid thought to himself as he grabbed his backpack to head to the gate where his Pan Am-Air Canada flight would soon be taking off and sending him to another dangerous assignment, somewhere on the far side of the world.
Several months later, in that same quiet Chicago suburb, Michele was sitting on the back porch watching the birds feed and play when the phone rang. She thought about not answering it, but only for an instant; as her desire for pleasure outweighed her fear and apprehension. She walked hastily to the living room sat on her sofa, her shaking legs barely able to support her, and picked up her cellular phone.
"Hello." She said softly, trying to hide her anxiety, her voice almost betraying her.
"Good morning Mon Amour. How is my darling this day?" Kincaid asked with a smile in his voice although his heart was also pounding in his chest and he too was shaking all over, for he too had been thinking and dreaming of this moment for quite a long time.
"Wonderful, and you?" she answered.
"Tre bien, and even better now that I hear you", as he reminded himself of the answer he always used when they chatted, hoping this would help both of them to relax a little.
"I was so excited knowing that I was going to talk to you that I barely slept last night, and today I walked all over the streets of Paris just to calm and steady my nerves," he said. "I'm so happy to hear your voice after all those long chats we have had."
"You know what sweetie?" Michele asked.
"What my dear?" Kincaid responded
"I just love your voice... you have just the sexiest voice I've ever heard." As she said those words her husband, who was listening from the kitchen, heard clearly the desire in Michele’s voice.
"Thank you.... yours is not bad either". He laughingly answered in his husky and throaty French accent.
Both of them, hearing each other, soon began to think about the hot cyber love sessions they had in the chat rooms, and could now put a voice on the words they've been reading for so long. The mix of the voice with the sexy thoughts, that they both were having, was slowly starting to turn them on as the conversation began to quickly become more serious and to the point.
"You know sweetheart I've been thinking of you every minute of the day these last months. I think I'm addicted to you," he admitted.
Michele felt her hands start to shake after hearing his admission. She had been thinking the same about him and wanted to desperately tell him so. Yet, before she could form those words, as she listened to his sexy voice softly talking in her ear, her free hand slid down her stomach toward her throbbing clit. As Michele’s breathing started to change Kincaid noticed the sudden shift in her breathing pattern.
As Kincaid listened to Michele’s desire build, his imagination begins to run wild, thinking of all the things she might be doing. However, Kincaid was still afraid to ask, despite his desire to know; for he didn't want to rush her or scare her, so, as all Frenchmen are won't to do, he began to start her off slow.
His voice was soft and hardly heard when he asked, "What are you wearing this morning my dear?"
Michele's voice was full of the desire when she told her soon to be lover that she was wearing her sheer white satin and silk robe.
"Nothing else my sweet?" He asked.
Lost in her rising passion she nodded “no” first, but then realized that what she needed to do was actually speak and tell him.
A soft "no" was her only response.
Sensing her shyness, Kincaid then took control of the conversation and told her not to speak, but just to do exactly what he said. He knew this would turn her on even more and hoped that it would also relax a bit.
"Sit comfortably, close your eyes and just let my voice guide you, My Love,” He said in a whispering tone.
Following his orders, she settled more cozily into her outdoor chair, closing her eyes, letting his voice guide her hands and mind. Yet, even before he had said anything, she was already turned on and her body was on fire.
"Spread your legs wide and let your hands roam over your wonderful body" he said "caress your tits and pinch your nipples."
As her legs spread she could feel her juices start to leak along her slit, while her hands went directly to her aching tits, squeezing them over her robe. She could feel her nipples already hard through the light fabric. Then with one hand she removed the strap of it, unveiling one tit, while she sucked in her breath as she felt the cool air over her nipple. She then caressed, cupped, and squeezed her nipple softly, as her breath began to come out faster, as her excitement quickly grew with the imagination that it was his hand touching her. That idea and the pinching of her nipple got her even hotter as she let a light moan escape from her lips.
She then pressed the speaker mode button on the cellular phone and let it fall near her so that both of her hands were free to take care of her heated body. Michele then bared her other breast and began to give it the same treatment, as she continued to let his voice take control over her body.
"Let one hand slide over your stomach" Kincaid said in a hoarse voice betraying his desire and arousal.
Michele reluctantly let go one of her tits and slid her hand over her stomach as Kincaid commanded her, "Don't touch your pussy, just caress the inside of your leg scratching the upper part".
Michele’s hand traveled down still, feeling the contact of her pussy hairs on the tip of her finger. However, she resisted the urge to let her hand go directly down her aching pussy so that she could get release from the intense desire that was building inside her. She wanted this feeling to last forever, and the longer Kincaid was going to play with her the more she knew she was going to like it. Michele was now feeling incredibly safe as his virtual sex toy.
Her hand then slowly moved up along the inside of her thigh until she reached the sensitive upper part, at the same time she bit her lower lip in order to refrain another moan, as her nails scratched over her exposed skin, while her other hand still clung to her breasts, so that she could play with both of them at the same time, as he commanded her to, "Let your fingers slide lightly over your slit.” As she followed his order, she felt how soft her bare pussy lips were, and how wet she had become. She couldn't believe how aroused she was even though her pussy hadn't even been touched.
"Suck one of these fingers in your mouth as if it was my cock, make it really wet,” Kincaid commanded. As he commanded her, she could hear his breathing becoming harder, and she wondered if he wasn't stroking his cock at the same time he was leading her. At that thought she envisioned him naked in front of her, his cock in his hand, hard for her, ready to make love to her. She wanted to ask him, but at that same instant her hand reached her mouth and she sucked hard on her middle finger and a muffled moan escaped her lips. As she sucked she tasted her sweet tasting nectar. By now there was no coming down from the kinky and euphoric feelings that now coursed through her veins.
Kincaid then commanded, "Now I want you to cum for me Michele." He said, "Get that finger deep inside of you.”
Michele’s hand went directly to her sex, and she plunged her finger inside right away into her aching pussy, at the same time her head jerked backward, as she let out a louder moan "huummmm yessssss," which Kincaid heard quite clearly over the speaker phone. Her moans now gave him even more confidence as he loudly said, "Get two fingers in!!! I want you to finger fuck yourself hard and fast!”
Michele did as Kincaid demanded, and plunged her fingers in and out, and as far and hard as she could so that her hips were bucking up and down to meet her hand. She was practically hyperventilating as she moaned with each thrust, all the while whispering soft words to him.
"Yesss baby I wanna cum for you" she said, "I want you Kincaid! Take me! Take me now!" She was starting to lose control; her mind was totally focused on his voice, and her pleasure. Behind her closed eyelids, she was fucking him, seeing their bodies entwined, sweat covered, seeing his hands caressing her, his lips kissing her.
"I want your other hand to take care of your clit". She half heard him through her racing mind and moans. But still she followed his voice. Her hand let go of her tits and went directly to her aching and swollen clit, freeing it from its hood, while her fingers rubbed it hard and fast while she kept on finger fucking herself with her other hand.
Michele’s pussy was so wet that it leaked into the palm of her hand and drenched it, as well as deep down the crevice of her ass, as well as the tops of her thighs. Her moans became louder and louder as she was felt a huge climax building in her stomach. She arched her back and her body was thrashed on the sofa wildly, as her unfocused eyes flared open, totally blind to what was around her, still seeing the erotic visions her mind was sending her.
Kincaid kept on telling her he wanted her to cum for him and how much he wanted her. Then he started to moan saying he was about to cum too, as Michele then realized he was masturbating too. This revelation then sent her over the edge as she came in a loud moan almost screaming, her body shaking all over, as her juices flowed to continuously form a little puddle under her bottom on the leather of the couch, while her pussy clenched her fingers. She barely heard Kincaid as he came with her, groaning and whispering her name.
She couldn't believe how hard she came. She had been masturbating before but she never had such a climax, and now she was coming back to Earth, with a feeling of exhaustion that made it seem that she had had sex for several hours.
"Kincaid?" Michele whispered breathlessly
"Yes darling" answered Kincaid, as his voice betrayed the fact that he also had a hard time recovering from his own powerful climax.
"That was wonderful sweetie! You were wonderful. I never had such pleasure masturbating".
"You were perfect too, I wish we could have made love together for real".
"Me too" she answered with a hint of sorrow in her voice.
Slowly they started to talk about each other, little by little discovering, and in many ways rediscovering, each other. Talking was so much more personal than instant messaging. As they talked they shared those feelings that you share with only those people whom you most intimate, until finally after nearly three hours they had to hang up, and then planned on continuing their conversation online, but not before Michele could discuss with her husband Kincaid's special request.
After she had showered and calmed herself down, Michele, who was still nude after her shower, sat Barry down and told him that Kincaid had offered, and Michele had accepted, with Barry's approval, to be sent to her an open-ended plane ticket to Paris, for travel to see her online lover, anytime she decided that she wanted to accept his offer to visit him for he termed “the most erotic four weeks” of her life. Yet Michele’s husband, far from being upset, seemed relatively excited at the prospect of his wife being propositioned, and her acceptance of such a wicked and erotic indecent proposal. Barry had always fantasized about this, but always felt, falsely, that his wife loved and depended upon him to much too ever leave him and their comfortable lifestyle. Barry’s decision was further solidified by the fact that when he logged on to his own e-mail account, he found a message from Michele’s mysterious French cyber lover, which, after reading it, with Michele by his side, had turned Barry on so much that he made love to Michele with a renewed sense of passion, the energy source of which was Kincaid's 'Indecent Proposal.'
A later e-mail, which Barry had received at work, was sent via an anonymous and encrypted remailer, to let him know what Kincaid's plans for his wife were, and that, with his permission, he would broadcast via the Internet, all of her sexual encounters, delivering it to him, via an encrypted web site. A third e-mail was sent that informed Barry that, as a way to back up promise of Michele’s safety, Kincaid had deposited in Barry's credit union account $250,000 as proof that he could deliver the “goods.” It was after Barry had seen his new bank account balance, and after Michele had left America, that Kincaid informed Barry that the "goods" he sought, in return for his wife's safety, was his master user name and password to the Motorola intranet, and for him to provide any and all future requests for corporate information that Kincaid put forth. In return Kincaid promised that he would pay Barry a healthy fee, tax free, as well as suitable sexual replacements for his wife during the entire course of her absence, which Barry would later find out was a false promise, for instead of receiving a call girl, after having balked at Kincaid's later demands, after Michele had embarked on her trip to Paris, Kincaid activated the Trojan horse. 24 hours after the Trojan horse program was unleashed the FBI raided the Hudson home, and found enough child pornography, on Barry's home and work computers, that it would only be a matter of time before Barry began serving a long sentence in a Federal Prison.
Weeks later, as Kincaid read the online Chicago Tribune account of the FBI raid on the Hudson home, he sensed that Michele would never want to return home and wait faithfully, for up to 30 years, for a convicted child pornographer and traitor to her country, which according to news accounts, is exactly what Barry was. According to the indictment that was later filed against him, Barry was accused of trading corporate military secrets to the Russians, in exchange for money, the accusations of which were backed up by the evidence Kincaid had planted on Barry's computer and in his bank account. As for Michele, Barry claimed to his attorney that it was Kincaid, whom he had never met or even seen, whom had framed him, and stolen both his wife and freedom; however, since there was no evidence to support his claims, his attorney set about trying to strike a plea bargain.
To Be Continued...
