According to the Countess, many years ago, before Michele was even born, Luc, who was an orphan and juvenile delinquent had, at the age of 19, been France's first heavyweight boxing champion. However, before he could defend his title, Luc was jailed for the alleged rape of a fan, and, as a result, was given the choice of going to prison, or serving for ten years in the French Foreign Legion. The choice for Luc was obvious, as he joined the Legion, whereupon he was sent to fight in Chad and the Congo; after which he became a freelance headhunter for a now defunct pharmaceutical company.
Many years ago, according to the Countess, Luc, who, like Kincaid before him, had also been her lover, had once been sent on a recruiting mission to Japan, after which he came back a changed man. Prior to being sent to Japan, the Countess had heard that Luc had been, despite his dysfunctional upbringing and forced military service, a happy and upbeat person, but when she had met him, several years after she had climbed the ranks of MI-6, he was a brooding and depressed individual. The years of war and spying, as well as his broken heart, had slowly turned Luc into a lonely man with few friends outside of the erotic underworld that he and Kincaid found themselves increasingly absorbed in.
In fact, after the Countess and Luc had ended their torrid physical affair, Luc disappeared for the several years during which Kincaid and Ukiko had been lovers, but, after news of Ukiko's demise reached Luc in Montreal, which is where he had been sent as an intelligence attache, he asked to return to full time spying, but only on Kincaid's promise that never again would a woman ever come between them, which is exactly why, the Countess explained, Kincaid had wanted Michele and Luc to spend some quality time together, for Kincaid knew that Michele's youth and sexual desires and needs were much more than any one man his age could satisfy alone.
After picking Michele up from the museum, who was dressed in a long and transparant black dress, complete with matching black stilletos, sheer black stockings and a black thong, Luc escorted her to a very expensive restaurant where they feasted on duck and red wine. Afterward they went to a showing of the new play "Mata Hari", which was a scandalous new live erotic rendition of the life of a famous female spy in World War I. As she watched, Michele could not but help get turned on by the sexual intrigue and erotically charged plot, as she thought at the same time about her own future, and then wondered if she too could be a modern 21st Century Mata Hari.
However, earlier, as she wondered aloud to Luc, over dinner, if the life of a spy such as James Bond, was as glamorous as it seemed in the movies, he cautioned her and told her all about the real life tragedy of Mata Hari. By now Michele had told Luc about what the FBI agent had said about Kincaid, and how she was now very confused about whether to stay with him in Paris, or to return home to be subjected to uncomfortable scrutiny regarding her now all but dead marriage to Barry. However, instead of offering answers about he and Kincaid's work as a spy, or even trying to reassure Michele, Luc lit up a cigarette and told Michele that, once they were in private, he would tell her all of the things about he and Kincaid that she had a right to know, but that, in the meantime, it might be best to tell her more about the real life Mata Hari, so that, when the time came, she could make up her own mind as to whether or not she should stay in Paris, or return to America.
As Michele sipped her wine and smoked on a cigarette that Luc had offered her, she listened to the story of the woman who was once the most renowned woman in spy history--although Luc suggested that, "Many believe, like I do, that she probably wasn't one, for she was naive and easily duped--and trapped--by her "friends" as well as her enemies during World War I. Born in Holland as Magaretha Gertrud Zelle to a well-to-do Dutch shopkeeper and his Javanese wife, she attended a school for teachers but was forced to leave for having sex with the headmaster. At age 18, she married a Dutch naval officer who was 20 years her senior. They soon moved to the Dutch East Indies and had two children, but divorced in 1906. She went to Paris in 1905, assuming the name Mata Hari (Eye of Dawn) and the persona of a Javanese princess. She made her debut as an erotic dancer at the home of the Japanese ambassador to France, which is the same place where you experienced your first "Bukkake" yesterday."
"During World War I Mata Hari had an affair with a 25-year-old Russian pilot flying with the French, Capt. Vadim Maslov, son of a Russian admiral. When Maslov was wounded she asked permission to visit him in a forward hospital. French officials at the Deuxieme Bureau gave her permission--in return for agreeing to spy the on the Germans, including possibly the crown prince, whom she knew. She was to receive one million francs for her efforts. To carry out her assignment, Mata Hari traveled to Spain en route to neutral Holland, from which she could cross over into Germany to rendezvous with the crown prince. En route to Holland, her ship stopped over in Falmouth, England, where she was detained and interrogated. British officials warned her not to go to Germany and sent her back to Spain. There she met and had an affair with the German military Attaché, Major Kalle, who had later sent a message to Berlin in a code that he knew the Allies could read, saying that spy "H-21" had proved valuable, after which, when Mata Hari finally returned to Paris, she was arrested. Although French and British intelligence services suspected her of spying for Germany, neither could produce definite evidence against her. Secret ink was found in her room--incriminating evidence in that period. She contended that it was part of her makeup."
"For a long time, historians, as well as many in the spy business, had originally thought Mata Hari's arrest was mere coincidence; but British documents that were released in the 1990's revealed that the British MI-5 had kept Mata Hari under close surveillance from 1915 on. In the meantime, the French too got suspicious. Either way, Mata Hari had lovers on both sides of the border, so who knows what secrets were exchanged between the sheets..."
"What is clear from the history books is that German army officers were paying her. Officially, it was to keep them company but the French intelligence office wasn't so sure about that. What if she was paid for passing on sensitive information? When she tried to cross into France to visit one of her lovers, Mata Hari was arrested by the French Secret Service and interrogated. During one of these long sessions, she succumbed and allegedly confessed to being the German spy, known as H-21. If you ask me my opinion, the trial that followed was nothing more than a showcase trial, for the French, regardless of the facts, were convinced she was "one of the greatest spies of the century, responsible for the deaths of tens of thousands of soldiers".
"Ultimately, Mata Hari was deemed guilty and condemned to death, whereupon she died in front of a firing squad despite her desperate claims that she was innocent. However, even the French didn't get the complete story, for Mata Hari never told them whom she worked with or whose orders she followed. The French dossiers, despite the passage of over a hundred years, are still closed. Despite the passage of time though, many people, particularly in Holland, have tried in vain to persuade the French government to reopen her case. The Dutch Mata Hari Foundation however, still sees possibilities to rehabilitate her with the help of a new batch of recently released unclassified MI-5 documents, for they still think there may be chance that Mata Hari was indeed innocent."
"However, if you ask me Michele, I for one hope that the mystery is never solved. To me there is something extremely exciting to read about and watch either on the screen, or in real life, the adventures of a woman as sexually liberated as Mata Hari, who dedicates her mind, body and soul to the cause of freedom. As you will see on stage tonight there are a lot of similarities, but also many differences between you and she. Among the similarities are your twin insatiable thirsts for not just sex, but dangerous sex, as well as your natural beauty and willingness to submit to the pleasures of Paris. However, as I said, there are differences. Chief among them is that, unlike the Mata Hari, who lived her life without ever being able to trust a soul, you have many people here in Paris, chief among them being Kincaid, me, the Countess, Anjun, Atikur, Maurice, Monique, Katya, as well as others, all of whom have grown to love your mind, body, and soul. I promise you Michele, for as long as you remain with Kincaid here in Paris, or wherever in the world he and I travel, you will never be lonely nor will you ever be betrayed."
It was at this point in the conversation that the only couple within hearing distance of Luc and Michele's dinner table got up and left, thus affording Luc the opportunity to tell Michele more about what it was that he and Kincaid had to offer her here in Paris, should she decide to never return to America. After the couple had left, Luc reached over and placed his rough callused hand on Michele's soft and bare leg and brought his lips to hers as they kissed passionately for several long minutes as he ran his hands over her full breasts that strained against the soft fabric that held them in, until finally their lustful embrace was cut short as the waiter approached and poured them more wine.
As they both recovered themselves Michele looked deep into Luc's eyes and then asked him what she should say to her husband and loved ones in America, to which Luc replied with a smile as his fingers continued to stroke the undersides of her breasts, “My Dear, don't you know that it was fate that brought you here to Paris. I know for a fact that Kincaid must have sensed an impending doom when he asked you to come here to be your lover. He loves you Michele, not just for the sex or the thrills he gets seeing you with other men and women, but for who you are and how you make him feel. I know that when he is with you he feels reborn and whole. He never was this happy with Ukiko, God rest her soul, and I doubt if he will ever find someone as special and who is as compatible with him as you.”
“However, I must admit my dear that this business with your husband is troubling, but face it Michele, he is a traitor to his country. While it is always remotely possible that he was set up, I am afraid to say that when one is accused of being a spy, especially in the American federal court system, it is usually true. I have known many FBI and Net Force agents over the years, especially when I was assigned to the UN as a French police liaison, and they all have told me that the convictions on these types of cases is almost entirely assured. In your country the mere accusation is enough to get sentenced for a minimum of ten years. I am sure that he would understand if you told him that you wanted a divorce and to have your freedom. In fact I would bet that, if he were a real man, he would want to spare you the pain and agony of watching him being tried and punished for his mistakes.”
As Luc told her all this tears flowed down Michele eyes, lightly smearing her mascara. Up until now she had yet to shed more than a few tears, even after receiving the ugly news, but then, as she had silently mulled staying in Paris, she recalled her first day with Kincaid, when, as he held her in him arms as they walked the streets of Paris, she told him how unhappy she was with Barry. However, as per his style, Kincaid never once asked her to stay in Paris, but now here she was crying and telling Luc about how betrayed she felt and how, in her heart, how abandoned she felt and how the FBI agent had made it sound like she now had nowhere to go home to in America. As she sat there telling Luc about her years of marital unhappiness, she suddenly felt vulnerable, and how, in her mind she felt homeless and adrift, all the while Luc simply held her hand lovingly, as he silently reassured her that she indeed had a home in Paris as well as new exciting life awaiting her.
It somewhere in that tender moment, that Michele, after looking into Luc's eyes and then down to her semi nude body, suddenly realized that the adventurous world Kincaid, Luc, and all of his other friends and acquaintances inhabited was indeed her home, and the place she truly wanted to be, to which Luc picked up the conversation and said with a wicked grin, as he spread her legs slightly and felt the dampness of her thong covered pussy, "I must say Michele, even when you are crying you are still an incredibly sexy and horny woman, with a libido that is off the charts. You think with your cunt. Your hormones rule your mind, and you are the horniest and most daring girl I've ever known. You make even me blush, sometimes. And after all that I have seen in done in my career, that is a damn fucking hard to do!"
They had both laughed at that comment, briefly stopping her flow of tears, as Luc then looked around and waived the waiter away. It was at this point of the evening that Luc decided it was best to come clean and make Michele the offer for her to begin, what the DGSE had termed 'personal operative training' that, pending her acceptance, she would soon begin at the Countess's country estate.
After kissing Michele deeply one more time, Luc continued the conversation.
“Michele, it was Kincaid who first sensed that you, even as a young girl, had always had a desire to push the envelope with the men in your life; however, until coming here and stepping of what you yourself described as a boring marriage, you never had the opportunity. What Kincaid and I want to offer you here in Paris is quite simply the opportunity to live a lifetime of daily erotic adventures, which I must be honest may sometimes be filled with danger. You see, Kincaid and I are one member short for us to effectively do our job as spies. After Ukiko's demise many years ago we quite simply had not found, until you arrived, such an incredibly beautiful and sexy open minded female candidate who had the either the desire or the potential to be a spy and be able to acquire certain pieces of information, which we as men can never hope to get. You are, to be very honest, the sexual tigress we desperately need to save France as well as America from economic subservience to the Arabs, Japanese, Chinese, and Koreans. However, as a young woman, there are certain situations, should you decide to become our ‘personal operative,’ that we would need to extensively prepare and train you for, so that you can be the best female spy there ever was. However, I must admit that the training will not be easy, and at times it will be very physically and mentally demanding.”
As Michele sat there, she was silent as she hung on every word that Luc said, while in her mind visions of erotic spy games danced in her head.
”In essence, what we are offering you Michele is the chance to be reborn. Since you have come into our lives, and when I say 'our'' lives, I mean Kincaid and me, we have seen in you a talent for not just seduction, but also an ability to adapt to foreign surroundings and feel totally at home. You see Michele, Kincaid loves you more than any woman he has loved before, and he wants you to forever be a part of our life. I say this as his closest friend and confidant. Another thing, if I may say so, the other reason why we think you are capable to be part of our team, is that you look French, and you, in just a few days, have learned the language well enough to know what people are saying privately. In essence, over the course of the last two weeks, you have become European, just like I knew you would when I first met you and saw you in action at Katya’s orgy.”
Luc than looked deeply into Michelle’s eyes and said, “I want you to think our offer over. However, at some point after Kincaid's return, which I suspect will be soon, you will receive a telephone call from me, in which I will give you explicit instructions regarding the beginning of your training to be a personal operative. However, should you say no, to either me or Kincaid, the offer to join us as a personal operative, which is what we call French female agents, will be withdrawn, and we will have to say goodbye, but if you say yes, I can assure you that it will be the start of a wondrous and adventurous new chapter in your life that you will someday be able to fill several volumes of memoirs.”
That was all Luc said the remainder of the night about he and Kincaid’s work as spies, for soon their dinner arrived and they shared a toast as Michele smiled and licked her lips with the thought of the sexual adventures to come, especially on this warm night with Luc. After dinner Luc escorted Michele to the theater, where the opening night of the English language production of Mata Hari was soon getting underway. For the next two hours, as Michele instinctively held on tight to Luc's hardness, stroking it through the tight spandex compression pants that held his cock tight against his body, she was mesmerized with the live stage productions of the legendary seductress. By the time the play ended, Michele's pussy was on fire, as she suggested to Luc that they go back to his place and "talk." To which Luc replied with a mischievous grin that she had yet to see the lights of Paris and suggested a ride to the top of the Eiffel Tower, the idea of which, as Michele looked first into Luc's lustful eyes and then up to the top of the ancient tower, sounded to her like a wonderful idea.
Upon their arrival Luc and Michele entered the elevator first, so that they could stand in the corner of the crowded car and face the doors on the ride to the observation deck. As the elevator headed, Luc's hand rested in the small of Michele's back, idly stroking it through the fur coat that concealed her near naked body that was dressed in the barest and sheerest of dresses. His gaze traveled down from her long dark hair, to her long and dark mink coat, and down to her calves, as he nibbled on her ear. Eventually his right hand found its way into her coat as his hand slid lower, caressing, through the thin material of her dress, the curve of her buttocks. His thumb then slipped under the dress, touching her bare bottom, after which his hand tugged on her thong waist band, still caressing her bare buttocks, as he now stroked and kneaded her flesh and stealthily bunched her skirt, raising it to expose her buttocks to his roving hand, stroking, rubbing, and softly kneading them as he watched her face in the mirror of the steel door in front of them..
Meeting his gaze in the mirrored door, Michele boldly met his stare, her brilliant blue eyes challenging his chocolate brown ones. He could tell by her dilated pupils and full lower lip that she was now at the peak of arousal, and he could feel his groin tighten as his erection grew. Then, after the elevator jolted to a stop, Michele steadily held her gaze, silently daring him. To all outward appearances, Luc's hand was resting in the small of the Michele's back beneath her mink coat. Only the two of them knew he was caressing her bare buttocks as they spoke softly, admiring the arches and whorls of the Eiffel Tower as they walked to an unoccupied corner of the observation deck.
Once they reached the semi dark corner of the windy observation deck, Luc then removed the mink coat, tossing it to the ground. He then stood behind her and, holding her to him with one arm resting beneath her breasts, he slipped his other hand into his coat pocket. Like all of his clothes, his topcoat had been specially tailored. On the inside of either coat pocket, near the top, there was an opening in the lining which permitted him to reach through his coat into his pants pockets. As they looked out over the crazy quilt of Paris, the chilly wind raised Michele's nipples and blew her hair around while Luc reached his hand through the opening in his coat pocket and began to raise the back of her skirt, and then with a rip tore off her thong and ordered Michele to open her mouth, and then used the panty for a gag. As Michele was being force fed her wet thong, Luc's cock began to swell as he slowly brushed the thin fabric of the skirt over the skin of her buttocks, then, once he had completely bared her backside to him, he stepped even nearer and rested his erect and aching cock, which was still clothed, in the cleft of her buttocks.
Looking over the city lights Luc whispered into Michele's ear how he had always fantasized fucking a woman on the Eiffel Tower, as he continued to stroke and knead her ass, moving lower to the tops of her thighs. Using his cheek, he then brushed aside her hair and began to kiss and suck the back of her neck. As he paid particular attention to the place where her neck curved into her shoulder, licking it with his soft, warm tongue, he brought his hands around to her belly, threading his fingers through her trimmed pubic hair, after which he parted the outer lips of her cunt. As Luc brushed his fingertips across her clitoris, Michele moaned softly, savoring the feeling as he ran a fingertip along the crest of her slick and engorged inner lips, while at the same time she began to grind her backside against him. Michele instinctively responded to his gentle pressure on her inner thighs by spreading her legs apart, arching her back, tilting her hips, and pressing her buttocks firmly against his pelvis. Whereupon, having positioned herself for entry, Michele grabbed the mesh of the chain-link “suicide fence” for balance and support, as Luc answered her not-so-subtle hint by inserting the middle finger of one hand into her vagina, squeezing her breast with his other hand, and sucking wetly on her neck.
Noting that she was now ready for him, Luc withdrew his finger, which caused Michele to whimper at the loss, and then moved his hand to the fly of his pants, trailing his fingers across her belly and hip. He then brought his thick, hard penis out of his pants and placed the tip against the moist lips of her vagina, slowly pushing the tip of his penis into her slippery vagina as she wiggled against him. At this point Luc resisted the temptation to drive swiftly and deeply into her and kept only the tip inside her. Kissing her neck, wetly tracing her pulse from her collarbone to her earlobe, he then distracted her as he moved his hand from his penis, over her hip and belly, to the lips of her vagina. Whereupon, after spreading the lips of her vagina with his thumb and middle finger, he began to tease her clitoris with his index finger. As he teased her clitoris, he allowed Michele to wiggle against his penis and take it more deeply inside her. Feeling her wiggle herself against him caused his penis to swell even more.
By now Luc was unable to bear the tension, as he began to slowly and steadily thrust into and out of Michele, and with every thrust, he felt his scrotum tighten as the tip of his penis parted, then plunged past the lips of her vagina. For the next 15 minutes Luc fucked Michele like a cheap whore, as he told her just how beautiful she was and how there on the tower was simply a taste of the things he had planned for Michele that night in Paris. Growing more excited, Michele turned her head and rested her cheek against the chain-link fence enclosing the observation deck. As she did, Luc's soft and rough smokey French accented voice whispered, “Yeah, you like that, don’t you!” To which Michele replied, "I never want to it to stop!"
Several more minutes later, Luc's thrusts became faster, harder, and deeper as Michele's pussy became more and more moist. It soon however, became increasingly difficult to remember to rub her clitoris, for, just as he felt his cock begin to twitch and his scrotum tighten, Luc felt her tremble and release her own warm, sticky ejaculate, as well as a loud moan of ecstasy that attracted the attention of all those on the deck. Finally, as Michele's moans peaked, and with one final plunge, Luc nipped her earlobe and released his thick, white spunk inside her, the force and amount of which spilled over and onto the wooden deck as the lovers held each other tight, until finally their moment of bliss was interrupted by a security guard who ordered them to stop, after which Michele lowered her skirt and put on her mink.
Not to much later, back on the ground, Michele and Luc found themselves at a same small café where days earlier, in a nearby alley, she had been raped. However, instead of remembering the experience as a frightening one, Michele recalled how erotic the whole experience had been, first when she had been fucked in her pussy and ass on the dance floor by two muscle bound strangers, and then later out in the alley where she was fucked with a loaded pistol. As she thought back on all of her erotic experiences in Paris, she and Luc silently held hands as they spent the next hour drinking wine and listening to jazz standards, some of which Michele noticed, seemed to make Luc cry; however she wasn't quite sure why until, after he had told her a story about how Kincaid's passion for the Kama Sutra led to his being allowed to study in Japan for a year, after he was released from his naval service. It was then that Luc suggested that they take a walk back to his apartment, during which, he told her the story of his lost love, the one for whom she had seen him crying over as he listened to the jazz band play 'Autumn Leaves'.
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