On Sacred Grounds

A prequel’s sequel by Comixfana

The X-Files, is the brainchild of Chris Carter and a registered trademark of 20^th Century Fox. No copyright infringement is intended and no profit will be made. Brenda Wade and Sara Kraft are the creation of Mr. X. All other characters mentioned in this story were created by yours truly.

I’m likely to get flack that this story is too long (again), but I made an effort to keep the explanatory bits as concise as possible and make sure that this story remains in context and links ‘The Test’ to ‘Sully’s Return’.  Hope you enjoy!

Comments? Feedback? Drop me a line at comix.fana@gmail.com

“Sully and I became well acquainted some ten years ago…it’s the story of a charming young FBI agent who saved this damsel in distress, who had become unwittingly entangled in a drug-smuggling operation as she explored old Navajo burial grounds…”

• Sara Kraft Magic Mayhem

Chapter 1

Arizona bound airplane, many years earlier

The recently promoted rookie FBI agent sat calmly in his seat, with an amused smirk on his face.

“’Chupacabra…I’m surprised no one contacted the Bureau’s X files division to investigate!’ I had to say! Karma much Quentin?” Sullivan wondered, eyebrows arched, sipping on a bourbon on the rocks, turning the pages of the complimentary newspaper.

More amused than annoyed, he could not deny a deep rooted sense of excitement on his first solo mission.

“All personal effects packed and sent to storage courtesy of the Bureau, until I get a permanent Field Office assignment…got to love the perks though: full Carte Blanche, nice Hotels and First Class treatment…my Assistant DA sister would approve! And I get to do away with the damn suit and tie…leather and denim for me!” He thought, with a smirk.

He turned the page of his newspaper to the article he was looking for.

World-renowned Archeologist Sara Kraft reported missing. Navajo Nation requesting assistance from the authorities to investigate her disappearance.

His eyes focused on her photo.

“Very pretty…I’d even venture to say sexy as hell. Yeah, the authorities have been called indeed; it’s me! God I hope she’s okay!” he ruminated.

He folded the newspaper and discarded it in the small garbage bag at the back of the seat in front of him.  He then pulled his smartphone from his jacket’s inner breast pocket; to take another look at his itinerary.

“Rental Chevrolet Lumina to be picked up at the airport, then a two hour drive west to the town of Concepcion to check in the Hotel. Then get in touch with BIA agent Carlos Chavez and Sheriff Bill Green.” Sullivan thought, casting his smartphone a quick glance.

He returned his smartphone to his leather jacket’s inner breast pocket and took another sip of bourbon. He reclined his seat halfway back.

“Okay Sully old boy, if you mess this one up it’s all on you; don’t fuck this up.” Sullivan thought, gravely.

Meanwhile, at the Concepcion Sheriff’s Office

“Bet you a bottle of Jack that he’ll come in expecting to see a male Sheriff!” Green said, grinning.

An attractive woman in her early forties, Sheriff Billie Green was a proud member of the Navajo Nation, so named after her mother’s favorite Jazz singer Billie Holiday.  She had a convenient, not so secret friends with benefits relationship with BIA agent Chavez.

“Hardly a fair bet, seeing that you insist on being called Bill rather than Billie!” Chavez replied, casting her a knowing smile.

Also a proud member of the Navajo Nation, Carlos Chavez had attended UA on a football Scholarship with a Major in Criminology.  Upon graduation, he was immediately recruited by the BIA.

“You’re no fun!” Green replied, teasingly sticking her tongue out at him, glad that they were behind closed doors.

“Not what you were saying last night!” He replied smugly, eyebrows arched.

“Shush, not while we’re at work!” She said, with a wink.

“Right…so is the evidence room setup for our FBI colleague?” Chavez asked, smiling.

“Yup, Smith and Josephs finished a few hours ago, before going out patrolling.  Is that guy Sullivan as good as they say?” Green asked.

“According to Senior Special Agent Robert Baxter, the man is pragmatic and sharp as a tack; he was instrumental in getting the corrupt Sheriff Ed Beauregard of Saint Marc, Bayou County to step down and face charges.  We are to assist him any which way we can.” Chavez said, with a shrug.

Green looked at Chavez, nodding thoughtfully.

“I met old Edward a few years back, a creepy old bastard; I’m not surprised he’d be involved in corruption.  If Agent Sullivan got him to step down, he’s got my cooperation!  Now…we have a few hours until our FBI collaborator gets here, Jenna is handling switchboard and Smith and Josephs won’t be back from patrol – Rosita’s Bar – until later this afternoon…” She said, standing up, smiling mischievously.

Chavez grinned, unzipping his pants as she walked around her desk, unbuckling her belt. He approached her, heart beating fast with anticipation.

“Just a quickie now, you okay with doing this with our tops on?” Green asked.

“Well I’d prefer to see your gorgeous body in all its naked splendor, but you know I can’t resist sex with you!” Chavez said, his cock getting hard as he observed her pants drop to her ankles.

“Good, this way we can dress quickly if there’s an emergency. Now slip a rubber on it and fuck me!” She said, bending over her desk, flexing her shapely buttocks.

“Is that any way to talk to a Federal Agent?” Chavez asked, pulling a condom from his pocket.

“My apologies, slip a rubber on it and fuck me, Sir!” She said, playfully wiggling her ass.

Chavez giggled and slipped the condom on his boner. He rubbed the head of his cock on her wet slit, teasing her a bit, and then grabbed her by the waist; sliding his cock in her tight pussy.

“Yeaaahh baby, like that, fuck me!” Green said, teeth clenched, using every bit of self-restraint to keep her voice down.

Her tight regulation bun came apart as she wiggled and squirmed with Chavez’s every thrust; strands of her raven hair shaking loose on her forehead and shoulders.

“Like that, Carlos like that…” she goaded him, reaching between her legs with her right hand to play with her clit, to reach a faster orgasm.

“Your ass is so fucking hot and firm…”he mumbled, knowing that she was sprinting towards her orgasm and wanting to keep up.

The double stimulation was paying off, as Sheriff Green was reaching a toe-curling orgasm; her telltale orgasmic moan reaching a high-pitch soprano register.

“Oh yeah Carlos your turn!  Cum for me hot stuff, cum!” She said, gasping, her voice a sensuous whisper.

“Keep talking like that and I’ll…oh yeah I’m cumming!” Chavez mumbled, breathing hard as he filled his condom.

Giggling like a Schoolgirl, Sheriff Green straightened up and turned around; giving Chavez a quick peck on the lips.  She then bent over to pull her pants back up. Chavez removed the condom and tossed it in the step-on garbage can, returning his shrinking appendage in his pants and pulling his zipper back up.

“Better fix your hair Billie, Smith, Josephs or Jenna might notice something’s different!” Chavez said, with a wink.

“That’s your fault, you’re too enthusiastic…and I wouldn’t change a thing!” Green said, gracing Chavez with a warm smile.

Chapter 2

While Sheriff Green and Agent Chavez were getting busy, Flight AA276 bound for Tucson Arizona was nearing destination. His bourbon on the rocks now a memory, Special Agent Sullivan snoozed, mentally rehashing what his newest friend, one Réjeanne Boudreau, had told him a few days before.

“So just relax and enjoy the pussy when it happens then? But when I do find my true love as Réjeanne said, how can I be sure I’m not treating the woman I love like just another conquest? Damn it, now I wish she’d never told me!” Sullivan thought, feeling a budding headache.

He opened his eyes and chuckled quietly.

“Bourbon and high altitudes don’t do me any favors…it’ll pass…how about I go over those Navajo funeral customs…” he thought, wanting to think of something else than his romantic life.

A booklet detailing Navajo customs had been provided to him by the Bureau; not exhaustive by any stretch of the imagination, but detailed enough for the purpose of his mission.  He pulled it from his carry-on bag and leafed through it until he got to the right page.

“Navajo people believe that when someone dies, they go to the underworld. Certain precautions must be taken during the burial process to ensure that they don’t return to the world of the living. These visits are to be avoided at all costs, and for this reason, Navajos are very reluctant to look at a dead body. Contact with the body is limited to only a few individuals.”

“Yeah, got to admit looking at a dead body wouldn’t do me much good either…” Sullivan thought, repressing a shiver.

“Preparing the Body for Burial

After death occurs, two men are entrusted with preparing the body for burial. They do not wear clothing during this process, they only wear their moccasins. Before starting the process, they smear ash all over their bodies. It is thought that the ash will protect them from evil spirits.”

“Reminds me of Miss Réjeanne’s mojo powder…” Sullivan thought, distractedly.

“Before burial, the body is thoroughly washed and dressed. It was believed that if the burial was not handled in the proper fashion, the person’s spirit would return to his or her former home.

Two other men dig the grave while the body is being prepared for burial. The funeral is held as soon as possible; more than likely it will be held the next day. These four men are the only ones present at the burial.

The deceased person’s belongings are loaded onto a horse and brought to the grave site, led by one of the four mourners. Two others carry the body on their shoulders to the area. The fourth man warns those he meets en route that they may want to stay away from the area.

Once the body is interned, great care is taken to ensure that no footprints are left behind. The tools used to dig the grave are destroyed.

According to traditional Navajo beliefs, birth, life, and death are all part of an ongoing cycle. It is the natural course of things. Crying and outward demonstrations of grief are not usually seen when someone dies. This is not to be interpreted as a lack of caring; according to Navajo burial customs, the spirit’s journey to the next world can be interrupted if too much emotion is shown. It is believed that the spirit can attach itself to a place, an object or a person if this important part of the process is interrupted.”

Sullivan closed the booklet, frowning.

“Then leaving anything at a burial site makes no sense, unless we’re looking at actual grave robbing, where the thieves would dig up the deceased’s personal belongings; which I don’t need to be an expert to know would be bloody sacrilege! And based on what I just read, the Navajo people would be more worried about zombies than they would be of a Chupacabra! I smell shenanigans…” Sullivan thought, returning his booklet to his carry-on bag.

The Airplane’s PA system crackled, startling him.

“Ladies and gentlemen, we have begun our descent into Tucson International Airport. Please turn off all portable electronic devices and stow them until we have arrived at the gate. In preparation for landing, be certain your seat back is straight up and your seat belt is fastened. Please secure your carry-on items, stow your tray table, and pass any remaining service items and unwanted reading materials to the flight attendants. Thank you.” The Captain’s voice said, crackling through the PA system.

Sullivan tossed his empty plastic cup into the small garbage bag and straightened the back of his seat. He sighed.

“Question number one to my BIA counterpart, who’s bright idea was it to authorize an archeological dig on a burial ground in the first place; have Navajo traditions gone the way of the Dodo?” Sullivan wondered, as the plane initiated its descent.

About an hour later, at the wheel of his rental Chevrolet Lumina and driving towards the small town of Concepcion Arizona, Special Agent Sullivan mulled over the events surrounding Lady Sara Kraft’s disappearance.

“No signs of any struggle according to the file the Sheriff’s Office provided the Bureau; her bed was still made and none of her personal effects were missing from her room.” Sullivan thought, starting to feel a few hunger pangs.

“The last ones to see her before she disappeared were Sheriff Green and BIA Agent Chavez.  Her rental car was found in its place in the Hotel’s parking lot, doors left unlocked.  Doesn’t take Hercule Poirot’s little grey cells to theorize that she was snatched away as she was returning from the Sheriff’s Office, by people who were waiting for her in the parking lot…it’s no forgone conclusion that ether or chloroform might have come into play since no one heard any screaming.” Sullivan reasoned, absent-mindedly listening to music on the radio.

“If there’s a drive-through somewhere along the way, I could sure use a cheeseburger and fries…” he mumbled, the road to Concepcion looking awfully deserted.

Nearing the Hotel, Sullivan finally came across a small greasy spoon that boasted to be the restaurant which inspired the TV Series Alice; Frank’s Diner rather than Mel’s.  Framed black and white pictures of the cast posing with Frank and his staff were hung on the walls.  Frank and the original staff had all retired a long time ago, but the new owners had done a great job preserving the Diner’s original look and atmosphere.

One deluxe bacon cheeseburger and a side of fries later; Sullivan finally made it to his Hotel room.  He tossed his suitcase next to the double bed and pulled his cell phone from his jacket’s breast pocket.

“Note to self, the leather jacket look isn’t well suited to the Arizona climate…good thing I have a lighter change of clothes in the suitcase.  My snakeskin boots might attract a few glances, but fuck it, I like them!” he reasoned, glad that his Hotel room had air conditioning.

He dialed his BIA counterpart’s cell number.

“Hello, Agent Chavez?  Agent Sullivan here; I’ve just checked in at the Hotel, I should be at the Sheriff’s Office in fifteen minutes tops.” Sullivan said.

“Hi Sullivan, the evidence room is ready, just a shame that nothing of notice came up as far as Lady Kraft’s disappearance goes; if she was kidnapped, they made sure they were covering their tracks; and no ransom request was done.” Chavez said, glad that the FBI reinforcements had arrived.

“Tough break…Agent Chavez, would it be possible to have a member of the Council of Elders meet us?  There are a few details I’d like to iron out with the Council.  I might have Carte Blanche, but I don’t want to step on any toes either…and one of the Elders might just have some key information we’re missing.”  Sullivan said, thoughtfully.

“Not a bad idea, while the Elders agreed that the whole archeological dig would be a good way to preserve the Navajo Heritage and keep a record of near-forgotten traditions in a Museum, the decision wasn’t unanimous.  Having them involved in resolving this issue and finding Lady Kraft would go a long way in smoothing things over!” Chavez said.

“Good, and that answers one of my questions already.  I might have a theory, but I’ll know more once I look at the evidence and pick the Elders’ representative’s brains.” Sullivan said, smiling.

“Very well, I’ll make a few phone calls, see you later!” Chavez said.

“Ciao for now!” Sullivan said, hanging up.

He opened his suitcase and picked a lighter tan colored jacket and an off-white collar T-shirt.

“Just enough to cover my holster and not feel like I’m melting in the sun; while keeping my FBI credentials in plain sight…” He reasoned, as he changed.

Chapter 3

After a change into more comfortable clothing, Special Agent Sullivan was on his way to the Sheriff’s Office.  A small building with few parking spots, Sullivan decided to park across the street.

“I’d like to see them ticket me!” he thought, with an amused smirk.

He got out of his rental car and crossed the street. A young woman in her late twenties greeted him at the reception desk. She had shoulder-length honey blond hair and blue eyes that betrayed the fact that she was not a member of the Navajo nation.  Her uniform, which was not regulation by any stretch of the imagination, was comprised of black open toe pumps, a charcoal tweed skirt that was cut several inches above the knees, revealing her shapely, toned legs and a gray silk cleavage blouse, clamoring to all who cared that she was proud of her perky B-cuppers.

Her name-tag indicated that her name was Jenna Watson.

“Good afternoon sir, Special Agent Sullivan I presume?” she said with a charming smile, extending her right hand.

“Indeed Miss Watson, I believe Sheriff Green and Agent Chavez are expecting me?” Sullivan replied, returning her smile as he shook her hand.

“Oh please, call me Jenna, everybody does!  Right this way Agent Sullivan. Oh yes, a spokesperson from the Council of Elders, Shaman James Gaagii is present at your request, follow me please!” She said leading the way, rolling her hips in a manner that made Sullivan wonder if she was doing it on purpose.

“Excellent!” Sullivan mumbled, trying not to stare at her rump.

She knocked at the door and opened it as Sheriff Green’s voice answered “Come in”.

“I’ll leave you to it then!” She said, with a coy smile, casting him a flirtatious wink.

“Okay, good start, the Sheriff’s receptionist is a shameless flirt!” Sullivan thought with a smirk, as he stepped through the door.

“Agent Sullivan I presume!” Chavez said, greeting him first.

“That would be me Agent Chavez, I recognize your voice form our call earlier!” Sullivan said, shaking hands with his BIA counterpart.

“That would make you Sheriff Green!” Sullivan said, walking towards the attractive female Sheriff, hand extended.

“Sharp indeed and pleased to meet you!  My given name didn’t throw you off!” She said, smiling as they shook hands.

“Simple process of deduction Sheriff, I spoke with Agent Chavez on the phone earlier, and you’re the only one in this room wearing a Sheriff’s uniform!  I guess your given name is Billie, plain Bill for short?” Sullivan said, with a wink.

“Indeed it is! Allow me to introduce to you Shaman James Gaagii!” She said, pointing at the elderly gentleman sitting on the upholstered chair facing the Sheriff’s desk.

A man in his seventies, Gaagii, the Raven, was neatly dressed, his gray hair braided.

“A Navajo version of Willie Nelson minus the beard…” Sullivan thought as they shook hands.

“You have a firm grip chąąmąʼii, the grip of a man who takes action swiftly.” The Shaman said, smiling cryptically.

“And you have the penetrating look of a certain Hoodoo priestess I count as one of my friends…you wouldn’t happen to know a certain Miss Réjeanne Boudreau would you?” Sullivan said, with a curious frown.

Gaagii threw his head backwards laughing heartily.

“Yes, as a matter of fact I do!  Let’s just say we…cooperated on a few healing rituals!  If you’re a friend of hers, that’s good enough for me chąąmąʼii, you’re alright in my book!” the Shaman said, still chuckling, revealing straight, pearly white teeth.

“Chąąmąʼii?” Sullivan asked, with a curious frown.

“Take no offense agent Sullivan, chąąmąʼii is Navajo for ‘kid’ or young man’!” Sheriff Green said.

“None taken!” Sullivan said, with a courteous bow.

“Shall we move onto the evidence room then?” Chavez said.

“Please, there’s a few things that don’t quite connect; and that’s where your expertise will come in handy Shaman.” Sullivan said, as they reconvened to the evidence room.

Photos of the Burial Grounds were pinned to a wall, various artifacts, which looked like traditional pottery were set on a table.  Sullivan observed the photos, his gaze occasionally moving to the pottery on the table.

“So those pots were found on those marked spots in the pictures?” Sullivan asked.

“Yes, and then reports of a monster scaring off the University workers occurred, the day after those pots were removed from the burial grounds.” Green said, wondering what was going through Sullivan’s mind.

“Shaman, your opinion on a monster conveniently showing up to disrupt the dig after those counterfeit artifacts were retrieved?” Sullivan asked.

“Those artifacts shouldn’t have been found on the surface in the first place!  All belongings are supposed to be buried with the deceased!  As far as a monster showing up the next day, a Chupacabra of all things…I smell a rat chąąmąʼii, based on Navajo tradition, my people would have been more worried about the dead coming back to haunt the grounds!” the Shaman said.

“Exactly what I was thinking, which means the booklet I’ve read on Navajo burial customs was right on the money…it must have been a hard decision to allow this Archeological dig!” Sullivan said.

Gaagii sighed and nodded.

“Our ways are being lost; we were hoping that allowing those University Students to do their dig and documenting everything, there would at least be a record kept for posterity.” He said, looking glum.

Sullivan nodded, returning his attention to the pictures.

“So precisely in those six specific spots…then Sara Kraft is dispatched to authenticate those pots and determines them to be counterfeit…” Sullivan said, walking towards the table.

“Yep, later that day, the three of us had dinner at the Sheriff’s house, and then she disappeared!’ Chavez said, eyebrows arched.

“Thus those pots have no historical value?” Sullivan said, picking up one of the pots.

“None at all, what are you thinking?” Sheriff Green asked as Sullivan shook the pot next to his ear.

“Just playing a hunch, looks like those pots have a false bottom, I can hear something moving inside as I shake it…” Sullivan said, dropping the pot to the floor, smashing it to bits.

“Have you lost your MIND?  What about chain of evidence?” Chavez barked, shocked.

“Carte Blanche status my friend…” Sullivan said putting one knee to the floor.

He stood up, holding a rectangular object wrapped in cellophane in his right hand. 

He cast Sheriff Green and Agent Chavez a stern look.

“My friends, the dig disrupted a drug smuggling operation, and if my hunch is right, there’ll be more of that stuff buried in the graves those pots were marking; those were quality samples for the buyer.  I’d call my DEA contact now, but if Lady Kraft is still alive, having a DEA team show up might get her killed.  Finding her is priority one.” Sullivan said, tossing the cocaine brick on the evidence table.

“Lady Kraft got kidnapped for her trouble…” Green said, her voice trailing off, shocked.

“Bingo!  I want to take a look at those burial grounds myself…that fake Chupacabra must have left tracks that could lead us to the kidnappers.” Sullivan said, his gaze shifting From Sheriff Green to Agent Chavez, and lastly to Shaman Gaagii.

“We were instructed to assist you in any way we can agent Sullivan, unless Shaman Gaagii has any objections?” Chavez said, looking at the Shaman.

“None at all chąąmąʼii, in fact, I used to be quite the tracker in my younger days, mind if I tag along?” the Shaman asked, smiling.

“My friend, I wouldn’t have it any other way!” Sullivan said, returning his smile.

Sullivan’s expression softened as he addressed Sheriff Green, Agent Chavez and Shaman Gaagii again.

“And by the way, please call me Sully, my friends call me Sully!” he said.

Chapter 4

Bound and gagged in a dimly lit mining tunnel several kilometers away from the small town of Concepcion, Sara Kraft stubbornly wiggled her wrists in an attempt to pull a Houdini on her captors.  A small slit was cut in the middle of the piece of duct tape covering her pretty mouth, to allow a straw to go through.

“How many days now, force fed Ensure through a straw and forced to pee my shorts? Those bastards will pay through the nose when I get my hands free!” She angrily thought, furiously struggling, ignoring the pain in her wrists and shoulders.

In the above tunnel, her captors were being chewed up by their superior.

“The heads of the United Cartel are furious! First you decide not to move the operations to this mine when news of the UA Archeological dig was first heard. Then, you leave the sample markers on the burial grounds, not clueing in that the UA people would pick them up as Navajo artifacts…” Cartel representative Don Alejandro Martinez said, fuming.

“Agreed Don Alejandro, but we unfortunately experienced unavoidable setbacks…” one of the Americans on the team named Decker tried to reply.

“¡CALLATE!” Don Alejandro’s bodyguard, a bald, burly man named Ramon shouted.

Don Alejandro dismissively raised his right hand, silently ordering Ramon to quiet down.

“Then, you try to frighten the UA workers by dressing up one of you fregons like a Chupacabra…a FUCKING LATIN AMERICAN URBAN LEGEND in FUCKING ARIZONA!  You DUMB PENDEJOS!  Drawing MORE FUCKING ATTENTION!” Don Alejandro screamed, his voice echoing through the mine tunnels.

The American smugglers Decker, Smith, Robertson and Johnson kept quiet, swallowing nervously.

“If that weren’t bad enough, when Lady Kraft was brought into the picture, rather than retrieving the merchandise under the cover of darkness, which would have made more sense, you tontos kidnaped her!  We could have cut our losses and reconvened the distribution here!” Don Alejandro said; staring a hole through his American counterparts.

Decker raised a trembling hand.

“Yes Decker, you have a question?” Don Alejandro asked, the sarcasm in his tone quite obvious.

“We can still retrieve the merchandise Don Alejandro, before the DEA is called in.” Decker said.

“If they haven’t been called in already…but if you do manage to retrieve the merchandise, you might walk out of this one without Colombian neckties.  And what of your captive?  She’s high profile, the FBI has already been called in to investigate her disappearance.” Don Alejandro said.

“Never saw our faces Don Alejandro, I used enough chloroform to keep her asleep for the first few days, and we’ve been keeping her fed with Gatorade and Ensure…always keeping a ski mask on.  We could chloroform her again and leave her sleeping in her Hotel Room bed.” Johnson offered.

Don Alejandro nodded thoughtfully.

“Señor Johnson has a brain in his skull! Merchandise first.  Then, safe return of the Señora Kraft.  Fuck this up and I won’t be able to hold back the United Cartel’s hitmen any longer.  Come Ramon.” Don Alejandro said, taking his leave, his bodyguard Ramon in tow.

Meanwhile, the ad hoc team of Special Agent Sullivan, Special Agent Chavez and Shaman Gaagii were retracing the mock Chupacabra’s tracks on horseback.  They dismounted where the tracks began, near the initial dig, the site where the ashes of the traditional burial tools were themselves buried.  The Shaman chuckled, going over the various footprints.

“Yes, the University chąąmąʼii’s were spooked alright, based on the multiple footprints scattering all over the place; but look at this set of prints right here…deeper and with what looks like bear claw prints around the tip of the footprint…” Shaman Gaagii said, with an amused grin.

“Chupacabra descriptions vary from a reptile-like creature with leathery green skin and sharp spines, to that of a hairless wild dog with fangs and claws that suck the blood of livestock…either version is no taller than three feet tall; this one seems to wear size 10 heel boots with claw attachments!” Chavez said, also grinning.

“Which would make this Chupacabra about 5’10”…which direction should we take Shaman?” Sullivan asked, with a smirk.

Gaagii squinted, surveying the terrain.

“Eastbound, towards those hills chąąmąʼii, unless my intuition is off, towards the old Copper mine.” Gaagii said, mounting his horse.

Sullivan and Chavez followed suite.

“If you’re right, that’s a good two miles away Shaman!” Chavez said.

“Then it’s a good thing we’re on horseback chąąmąʼii!” Gaagii said, chuckling.

A few minutes later, they reached the top of the hill.

“Well, well, look down there, tire tracks!” Sullivan said, grinning.

“Heading towards the old Copper mine’s direction, good intuition Shaman!” Chavez said.

“Experience chąąmąʼii, experience!” Gaagii said, with a smug smile.

“Okay, if that’s where our drug smugglers / kidnappers are hiding, things might get rough and I don’t wish to jeopardize your lives on top of Lady Kraft’s doing a half-assed rescue mission.” Sullivan said, looking at Chavez and Gaagii.

Chavez and Gaagii looked at Sullivan with an appreciative nod.

“You’re alright Sully, I wasn’t sure what to expect when you were recommended to rescue Lady Kraft, and when you smashed that counterfeit vase, I thought we’d made was a massive mistake…” Chavez said.

Shaman Gaagii laughed heartily, as he had enjoyed the counterfeit pot getting smashed, to him those artifacts were sacrilegious and he would have gladly smashed them all himself.

“But you do know what you’re doing.  This is Navajo territory, if you need reinforcements, Shaman Gaagii can make a few phone calls, and you can have a small army backing you up!” Chavez said, with a sympathetic smile.

“That’s appreciated, and would certainly come in handy, but you and I are trained Federal agents; this is our duty. And like I was saying, I don’t want to jeopardize civilian lives.” Sullivan said.

“Like young Carlos said, this is Navajo territory chąąmąʼii, you have Carte Blanche from the Feds…we have Carte Blanche on our lands.  I promise our warriors won’t get in the way, they’ll simply watch your back.  If anyone of them gets hurt, it’s on us.” Gaagii said.

“Very well, having a perimeter around the mine would be good…what the…a helicopter? Here?” Sullivan said, looking up as a private helicopter was flying towards the old Copper mine.

Chavez took a closer look with his binoculars.

“Colombian Army surplus…heading towards the old Copper mine while we’re investigating cocaine smuggling and the disappearance of Sara Kraft…you’re sure you don’t want to call in the DEA Sully?” Chavez asked, looking at Sullivan.

“Like Shaman Gaagii and you both said Carlos, this is Navajo territory, and I don’t want the smugglers to panic and murder her if the DEA gets involved.  Once she’s safe and sound, the BIA can request a DEA team…” Sullivan said, his voice trailing off.

“Chąąmąʼii wants to avoid innocent lives being lost. I like him!” Gaagii said, with an approving nod.

“There must be plans of that old mine?” Sullivan asked.

“Good idea, the Concepcion archives would have those blueprints; good way to plan a rescue mission!” Chavez said, as they turned their horses around.

“I like to do my homework, especially when human lives are at stake!” Sullivan said, as they made their way back to town.

The helicopter carrying Don Alejandro Martinez and his bodyguard Ramon back to Mexico flew back above their heads.

Chapter 5

They reconvened at the Sheriff’s office.  Sullivan went to his rental car and pulled out a brand new laptop from the trunk, while Shaman Gaagii got on the phone to ‘gather his troupes’.

“It’s a long shot, but if those new experimental drones are as good as the top brass is boasting, an infra-red and ultrasound scan of that mine would help us locate the smugglers…and if we’re real lucky, locate Sara Kraft.” Sullivan thought.

He re-entered the Sheriff’s office, so focused on the mission that he missed Jenna casting him a flirtatious smile.

“I just emailed you the mine’s blueprints Sully.” Chavez said.

“Thanks Carlos, now the Sixty-four grand question…” Sullivan said, putting his laptop on the Sheriff’s desk and switching it on.

He pulled his cell phone from his pocket and called a secure number on speed dial.  He positioned the phone’s camera lens to his right eye following the prompt, and then pressed a key on the dial pad.  The remote retinal scan completed, Sullivan put the cell phone to his ear.

“Special Agent Quentin Sullivan requesting technical backup…Townshend! You got promoted to our Tech division!  Tell me, how ready are those new drones? Perfect; I invoke my Carte Blanche status, I need an infrared and ultrasound scan at the coordinates I’m emailing you right now…” Sullivan said, typing on the laptop with his free hand.

Sullivan nodded and smiled.

“I owe you one Chris; this is the fastest way to pinpoint Lady Kraft’s location!” Sullivan said, smiling.

He ended the call, to allow his FBI friend and colleague to complete his task.

“Chances are that the remaining copper deposits and rocky walls may nullify any such scans you know.” Chavez said.

“Don’t lose faith yet Carlos, one of those drones is a smaller baby drone model that latches onto the larger mother drone…small and quiet enough to sneak into one of those ventilation shafts and perform the infrared scan from the inside!”  Sullivan said, smiling.

“Amazing, and what’s your plan Sully?” Sheriff Green asked.

“Formulating one as we speak…since I can’t talk our good Shaman friend out of involving his troupes, we can have them run a diversion at a safe distance; God only knows what firepower the smugglers have at their disposal.” Sullivan said, looking at the blueprints on the laptop screen with a frown.

“They’ll be just fine Chąąmąʼii they’ll give you that diversion and make sure Ms. Kraft is returned safely.  It was the Council of Elders’ decision to call her in as an expert, which means she was kidnapped because of us.  Those Warriors are loyal to the Council, so if I tell them to follow Chąąmąʼii’s – Agent Sullivan’s orders, they will; you have my word.” Gaagii said, with a nod.

Sullivan smiled.

“Every bit of help is welcome Shaman, that’s for sure…oh…hold up…” Sullivan said, as an incoming email bleeped on his laptop’s screen.

Sullivan’s smiled turned to a grin.

“Way to go Chris old pal!” Sullivan said, opening the attachment,

He keyed in a few more commands and overlaid the scan results on top of the mine’s blueprints.  One heat signature stood alone in a lower mine tunnel, while four other signatures stood next to the mine’s entry.

“Okay, so I’ll take an educated guess that this single, fainter heat signature is Lady Kraft, either very weak but still alive, or in a lower level tunnel; and the four bright ones here are our smugglers.” Sheriff Green offered, squinting at the screen.

“I agree Sheriff, now…” Sullivan said, concentrating.

He smiled.

“Is there a place in Concepcion where I can rent a dirt bike, a jeep or better yet, a dune buggy?” Sullivan asked.

“My cousin Ted has a dune buggy you could borrow, what’s your plan?” Sheriff Green asked, eyebrows arched.

“The Bureau will compensate your cousin for this loan, you have my word.  Before the Shaman’s troupes assemble around the mine’s entrance, I’ll take a leisurely ride in the dunes, taking the long way around…  If they have any surveillance, a man taking a joy ride won’t arouse suspicions.  Once I’m behind the mine, like here, near this ventilation shaft; I’ll park.  I’ll sneak back to the main entrance on foot and toss a smoke grenade inside to flush them out.” Sullivan said, pointing at several points on the screen.

“Then the smugglers come out, coughing and wheezing, and realize they’re seriously outnumbered!  Permission to join Sully?” Chavez asked, smiling.

“The more the merrier Carlos, after all this is Navajo territory; having a BIA Agent on the rescue mission would be fitting.” Sullivan said, giving Chavez a friendly clap on the shoulder.

“How about having the Sheriff involved too? That mine is still within Concepcion City limits!” Sheriff Green said, grinning.

“You are welcome to join, absolutely; this is your backyard. Tell me Shaman, how long will it take for your Warriors to get on site?” Sullivan said, first addressing Sheriff Green and then Shaman Gaagii.

“Twenty minutes to a half hour to gear up and meet us here.  Then we get on horseback and do your diversion.” Shaman Gaagii said, with a nod.

“Ted’s dune buggy should be here in 10-15 minutes, I’ll call him now.” Sheriff Green said.

“Good, if you don’t mind, I’ll go to my Hotel room and take a quick shower, your wonderful hot climate is starting to get to me.  Then I’ll gear up myself, slip into a bulletproof vest and come back here. See you all in half an hour give or take; Carlos, you got shotgun in the dune buggy!” Sullivan said, casting him a friendly smile.

“Absolutely Sully, the environmental shock can be a bit brutal!” Sheriff Green said,   smiling.

“Sweet, I’ll slip on a vest myself!” Chavez said, comically rubbing his hands together.

Listening at the door, Jenna smirked mischievously.

“Good, there’s my chance, I’m due for my lunch break and I’m horny…I might have some Sullivan tube steak for lunch!” she thought, discretely making her way to the main door, getting ready to follow Sullivan to his Hotel.

“Make sure you let your Cousin know we will compensate him for his loan Sheriff Green, and that we’ll pay for any damage that might occur.  If there’s any gunfight, it’s a real possibility.” Sullivan said, as he was walking towards the door.

“I’m sure he’ll appreciate that, thanks Sully!” Sheriff Green said, with a warm smile.

“No worries, let’s meet back here in about half an hour, you have my cell number if there’s an emergency?” Sullivan asked.

“Yep, got you on speed dial.” Chavez said.

“Me too.” Sheriff Green said.

“Perfect, how are you progressing Shaman?” Sullivan asked.

“Four more people to reach Chąąmąʼii, they’ll be here when you return, I promise!” Gaagii said.

“Alright, see you all back here in 30 – 40 minutes!” Sullivan said, making his way out.

Unbeknownst to him, a very horny and determined blonde was tailing him.

Chapter 6

Back in his Hotel room, Sullivan stripped off his sweaty clothes and walked into the bathroom.  He turned the shower taps and waited for the water to reach a lukewarm temperature. He opened his toiletries bag and pulled out a bottle of shower gel and another one of shampoo.  He stepped into the shower stream and exhaled slowly, cooling down.

“Dry heat my ass, I wonder if I should wear shorts and sandals…I wonder how hot that new ultra-light bulletproof vest gets in the sun? I guess I should still wear jeans and a jacket to make sure my concealed weapons remain concealed…shit…” Sullivan thought, reaching for his bottle of shower gel.

Lost in his own train of thought, Sullivan did not notice the flirtatious, honey blond vixen who had followed him to his Hotel and let herself into his room.  She quietly stripped naked, and walked to the bathroom, her breathing and steps covered by the sound of the shower. He had his back turned to the bathroom door, still not noticing her.

She struck a sexy pose, a mischievous smirk brightening her pretty face.

“Shall I scrub your back, Agent Sullivan?” she asked in a sultry voice.

“HOLY…” Sullivan shouted, startled, spinning around to face his intruder, right fist clenched.

He cast his intruder a confused look.

“JENNA?” Sullivan shouted again, more surprised than angry.

She laughed heartily, her perky B-cups jiggling merrily.

“You should see the look on your face right now!” she said, giggling.

“What on earth do you think you’re doing here? A woman’s life hangs in the balance; I really have no time for games!” Sullivan said, admiring Jenna’s firm, shapely body in spite of the annoyance he felt.

Jenna cast him an exaggerated hurt look.

“What’s a horny woman to do?  I’ve been sending you signals since you showed up, I’m attracted to you; you turn me on Sullivan, and you ignore me! And I’m fully aware that once this case is all wrapped up, you’re leaving this shithole town for your next case!  A girl’s gotta seize her opportunity!” Jenna said, in a whiny voice.

Sullivan took a deep breath, trying to calm down.

“Who the hell does that skank think she is, inviting herself in my Hotel room and assuming she’s so irresistibly hot that I’ll just fuck her upon command?  How entitled can you get?” He thought, his lower extremity betraying how attracted he felt towards the sexy blonde.

Then, Sullivan shook his head and chuckled.

“Too uptight indeed, relax and enjoy the pussy until I meet the one…I think I have enough foresight to figure out which one’s an affair and which one will be the woman I love…” he reasoned silently.

“Now what’s so funny Mr. Muscle man?” Jenna asked; her mischievous smirk back on her lips.

“Carpe Diem indeed…you’ll have to forgive my stupidity, I still can’t tell the difference between friendly flirting and being seduced!  We hardly have enough time for a romp, sorry to disappoint you!” Sullivan said, trying to keep his cool under the circumstances.

“Hey, I’m all in for a quickie big guy, I’m so turned on right now I might climax just squeezing my legs together!” She said; her upper lip curled up in a way that made her look like Debbie Harry.

Sullivan laughed heartily at that last comment.

“Alright then, I give in; haul that sexy butt of yours in the shower with me, it’ll have to be a quickie, there’s a damsel in distress to rescue!” Sullivan said.

“My sexy butt will stay right here if it’s all the same to you! There’s a comfortable bed right there!” Jenna said with a smug smirk, pointing her right thumb towards the bed behind her.

Chuckling, Sullivan turned off the taps and opened the shower door.  He reached for a towel and started to dry himself off.

“You’re one aggressive young lady, you know that Jenna?” Sullivan asked, now towel-drying his hair.

Jenna shrugged, blushing a little.

“This is going to sound like I’m making excuses, but I was diagnosed with Hyper sexuality disorder…the Sheriff tolerates my HSD driven escapades, but showing back up at the reception with wet hair like you, would be a bit too coincidental…” Jenna said, her voice trailing off.

“And might be interpreted as interference in a Federal operation!” Sullivan said, combing his damp hair.

Jenna nodded, looking guilty.

“I usually…satisfy my needs with Hotel patrons; but there hasn’t been a whole lot of tourists in the past few weeks…and in case you’re wondering,  I’m on the pill and clean, my condition  dictates that I get frequently tested for STD…” she said, now questioning her decision to pursue Agent Sullivan.

“All good to know,  though I only wanted to lather you up in the shower as foreplay,  then move on to the bed, I always pack condoms just in case; but if we can do without,  so much the better!” Sullivan said, a look of pure desire on his face.

“Our Special Agent is a boy scout huh?” Jenna said, with a teasing smirk.

“A horny boy scout, come here…” Sullivan grunted.

She gasped, as Sullivan picked her up by the waist and lifted her up as if she weighed a feather. She wrapped her arms and legs around him in a tight combined bear hug / body-scissors, and then leaned in for a kiss. He slowly lowered her onto his boner; penetrating her while her feet did not touch the floor.

“Good Gawd you’re STRONG! You’re-so-DEEP!” Jenna whimpered, reaching a trembling orgasm.

“You weren’t kidding when you said you could cum by squeezing your legs together were you? That warm ooze trickling out of your pussy tells me you had quite the orgasm! We ain’t done yet kiddo!” Sullivan said, carrying her to the bed, still impaled on his cock.

She whimpered a weak “Uh-huh”, head spinning from the sensory overload and violent orgasm.  Panting, she nuzzled him, eyes closed.  As he gently laid her down on the bed, she released her hug and body-scissors, casting him a smouldering look.

“Your turn to cum Sullivan, fuck me hard!” she commanded, in a husky voice.

“As if you had a say in the matter! Inside or on you?” Sullivan said, rocking his pelvis back and forth, building up a rhythm.

“Ah…ah…ah…in…in…inside, easier…to…clean…in…the…bathroom, don’t…hold…back OH MY GOD DON’T STOP! “ Jenna shouted, once again reaching sensory overload as Sullivan complimented his thrusts with a clit massage, using his right thumb.

“Odd how her titties swing in circles rather than up and down, and in opposite directions too…must have been a Go-Go girl before working for the Sheriff…” Sullivan thought, fascinated.

Still fucking her pussy and massaging her clit, he grabbed her right ankle with his left hand, bringing her perfectly pedicured foot to his face; kissing it, licking her toes, getting a taste of salt, soap and the leather of her shoes. Breathing hard and in prey of another orgasm blooming in her lower belly; Jenna let out a loud orgasmic moan.

“Hmmmuuuuuuuaaaaaaahhhhhh, SULLIVAAAAAANNN!!! You’re taking too loooooong!” she whined, her vulva starting to feel sore.

“Not so tough are you? You dirty girl, you can’t take me huh?” Sullivan said, gloating, enjoying the expression of ecstasy on her face.

His dirty talk was interrupted as Jenna tightened her vaginal muscles in a desperate attempt to trigger his orgasm.

“YEAH SQUEEZE MY COCK, I’M GONNA CUM! I’M…NNGH! NNGH! NNGH!” Sullivan grunted, Old Faithful filling Jenna’s pussy with buckets of cum.

Spent, Sullivan laid in bed next to Jenna.

“Still managed to get a quickie out of you didn’t I? Not bad for a ‘kiddo’ aren’t I?” Jenna said, propping herself up on her elbow to look at him; her smug smile back on her lips.

“Pretty damn good actually, sounded like I was hurting you though, are you okay?” Sullivan asked, getting up to get dressed.

“A bit sore, but I’ll live, it certainly was worth it!” Jenna said with a wink, also getting up to get dressed.

“Okay, I’m not familiar with Concepcion, are there any donut shops in town?” Sullivan asked, already dressed from the waist down.

“One good one that I know of, why? You don’t strike me as the donut type!” Jenna said, slipping on her underwear.

Sullivan slipped on a plain t-shirt, the new bulletproof vest and his holster, chuckling.

“Not for me Jenna, for everyone volunteering for this mission, Sheriff Green, Agent Chavez, Shaman Gaagii and his warriors…” Sullivan said, slipping on a light cotton jacket to cover his bulletproof vest and holster.

He pulled his wallet out of his pocket.

“Here…get $50.00 worth of coffee and donuts and bring them to the Sheriff’s Office.  That way, your disappearance won’t look as suspicious; and you’ll be everybody’s hero!” Sullivan said with a wink, handing a few bills to Jenna.

Smiling, she took the cash and kissed him on the cheek as he clipped his FBI ID to his belt.

“That’s plain genius! Thanks Sullivan!” She said, slipping the bills in her cleavage as she finished getting dressed.

“Please, call me Sully; my friends call me Sully!” Sullivan said, smiling.

Chapter 7

After pulling a few smoke grenades from the trunk of his rental car and briefing the troupes at the Sheriff’s Office, Sullivan and Chavez were taking a dune buggy ride around the old Copper mine.

“See any movement Carlos?” Sullivan asked, as Chavez observed the general vicinity of the mine with his binoculars, his trusty Remington shotgun on his lap.

“Nothing at all, no movement, the pickup trucks parked near the mine’s entrance remain empty; it would appear they don’t suspect a thing.” Chavez said, letting his binoculars hang by the strap, onto his chest.

Chavez looked at Sullivan with a smirk

“So how was she?” Chavez asked, grinning.

“Come again?” Sullivan replied, with a frown.

“Without making a bad pun with coming Sully, you know what I’m talking about! The coffee and donut run was a good ruse, but Jenna taking a powder just moments after you left to shower at your Hotel, the same Hotel where she picks up her sex partners…plus the fact that she’s been eyeing you like a hungry coyote with her HSD…way too coincidental!” Chavez said, chuckling.

Sullivan sighed, figuring that he might as well own up to it.

“Solid deductions my dear Watson!  As pleasant as it was, I was a means to an end to her, nothing more.  She’s an attractive young lady with a sexual disorder…and I wouldn’t make a habit of it.” Sullivan said, as he drove the dune buggy past the left point of the mine.

“How so?” Chavez asked, with an inquisitive frown.

“Well for starters, I’d hate the feeling that I’m taking advantage of her disorder to get easy sex; whether she consents to it or not.  Second, I’m likely to do a lot more traveling around the country until I get a permanent assignment with the Special Ops branch…which is not likely to be anywhere near Concepcion Arizona.” Sullivan said, with a shrug.

“The legendary X-Files!  And yeah, I do see your point.  I think we’re nearing the ventilation shaft…our good Shaman’s men are probably getting in position as we speak!” Chavez said, rubbing his hands together out of excitement.

“Get ready to rock and roll Carlos, got those zip-tie restraints?  Even coughing and wheezing from the smoke grenade they might still be pretty testy.” Sullivan said, slowing down as they neared the ventilation shaft.

“Got a dozen in my holster’s compartment; and enough ammo in my Remington to pacify any angry smuggler.” Chavez said, smiling.

Meanwhile, in the Old Copper mine

Waiting until the cover of darkness to recover their merchandise, the smugglers sat a few hundred feet from the mine’s entrance on foldable chairs around a small table, playing poker to kill time.  The successful retrieval of the merchandise, followed by Lady Kraft’s ‘safe return’ while heavily sedated to her Hotel room were the only way they could come out of this without facing the United Cartel’s wrath.

Unfortunately for them, they were sadly unaware of the joint FBI – BIA operation that was about to unfold, with a healthy assistance from the Sheriff and a dozen volunteer Navajo Warriors.

“So Decker, how is her Ladyship doing?” Johnson asked, as Decker walked over to join the game.

“Oh she’s fine…damned bitch pretended to be passed out, waited until I was close enough, nipped up and tried to Karate kick me in the nuts…how she managed that move with her hands tied behind her back beats me.  Then she threw herself at the end of her chain like a wild animal taking a few wild kicks in my direction…I sure as hell ain’t volunteering to sedate when it’s time to return her to her Hotel room!” Decker said, removing his ski mask and sitting down.

“I’d laugh, but she pulled the same thing with me the last time I brought her Ensure and Gatorade…” Smith said, tossing Decker a beer can from the cooler next to the table.

“Thanks, I guess we’ll have to crowd her; restrain her while she gets chloroformed.  At least she’ll be able to shower and change into clean clothes once she wakes up in her Hotel room.” Decker said; the thought of Sara Kraft’s urine soaked shorts making him gag a little.

Outside, Agents Sullivan and Chavez carefully and quietly made their way towards the mine’s entrance on foot.  Once in position, Sullivan looked at the smoke grenade in his hand, and then at Chavez.

“I understand you played College Football?  Care to do the honors?” Sullivan whispered, handing Chavez the grenade.

“It would be a pleasure!  Hold this!” Chavez replied, taking the grenade with one hand and handing his Remington to Sullivan with the other.

Chavez pulled the pin and tossed the grenade into the mine’s entrance; guesstimating the smugglers’ location based on the infrared scans taken earlier.  The grenade fell about ten feet shy of the Poker game, close enough to have the desired effect.  Smiling, Chavez took back his Remington while Sullivan drew his Glock from its holster.

“Party time!” Chavez said, taking aim at the entrance.

“Or as my Uncle Ian would say, laissez les bon temps rouler!” Sullivan said, grinning, also taking aim.

“Cajun Uncle Sully?” Chavez asked, as they could now hear the approaching sound of coughing coming from the mine.

“Yup, spent a few summers on his farm in Bayou County…once again, shall you do the honors? This is your backyard.” Sullivan casually asked, as the smugglers now emerged from the mine’s entrance, eyes and noses running; coughing and wheezing.

“Nah, your collar, you go for it!” Chavez continued, pleasantly.

Sullivan chuckled, but his voice took a serious, authoritative tone as he addressed the smugglers.

“Alright all of you FACE DOWN on the ground NOW!  ARMS SPREAD TO YOUR SIDES WHILE MY PARTNER FRISKS YOU!  AND IN CASE YOU GET ANY IDEAS, WE CAME WITH REINFORCEMENTS; YOU’RE COMPLETELY SURROUNDED!” Sullivan said, in a booming voice that surprised even him.

He raised his arm up in the air, giving the Shaman’s men and Sheriff Green the signal.  In a chorus of war cries that would have made Sergio Leone proud, a dozen men and a woman on horseback were closing in on the mine’s entrance; brandishing shotguns rather than bows.

Decker, Smith, Robertson and Johnson complied, more confused than frightened.

Chavez put his Remington on the ground as Sullivan covered the men with his Glock.  As he frisked them, Chavez confiscated one Bowie knife, two Beretta Tomcats, two Browning pistols and three sets of brass knuckles.

“Sumbitches came ready to party! Sheriff Green if you please?” Chavez asked as her horse walked closer to them.

“With pleasure Agent Chavez, good thing my horse’s saddle came equipped with large saddlebags!” She said, smiling as she dismounted.

“Four smugglers; frisked and shackled Sully!” Chavez said, picking up his Remington as he stood up, now addressing Sullivan as Sheriff Greene collected the confiscated weapons.

“Thank you Carlos!  Now then, while the smoke clears from the mine’s entrance, which one of you ass wipes will volunteer to take me to Sara Kraft?  I know her general location, but not which tunnel is the one you’re holding her prisoner in. I really hate having my time wasted, and as you shitheads probably figured out by now, I have a nasty temper.” Sullivan said, as the smugglers’ coughing fits were subsiding.

“We’re dead men anyway; the people we work for won’t let us off the hook after this raid…” Decker said; his voice rendered hoarse by the smoke grenade.

“Besides, if I have to smell her piss soaked shorts again…” Smith had the misfortune to say.

Furious, Sullivan holstered his Glock and bent over, picking up Smith from the ground, one hand grabbing him by the seat of the pants, and the other by the hair, making him scream in pain.

“Thank you for volunteering to be my guide asshole!  And thank you…” Sullivan said, unbuckling Smith’s belt.

“HEY! WHAT THE HELL?” Smith protested as the Sheriff, Chavez and the Navajo Warriors laughed heartily.

“…for volunteering your pants for her Ladyship!  I’m sure she’ll appreciate a dry change of pants! For your own sake, I hope you didn’t decide to go Commando today you sad prick! Carlos, keep him still?” Sullivan said, pulling down the zipper from Smith’s pants.

Giggling, Chavez pointed his Remington at Smith, who stopped struggling.  To everyone’s relief, Smith was wearing boxers underneath his jeans.

“I thank you for your generous donation.  Sheriff Green, if I may?” Sullivan said, pulling the Bowie knife from the evidence saddle bag.

“Full Carte Blanche, go for it Sully!” Sheriff Green said, with a wink.

“Thank you! Now walk!” Sullivan said, first pleasantly to Sheriff Green, and sternly to Smith, holding him by the collar; pants slung over his shoulder.

Resigned, Smith started to walk, guiding Sullivan.

Chapter 8

Still trying to free herself from her captors and nearly kicking one of them in the ‘crown jewels’ a few minutes earlier; Sara Kraft angrily paced to the end of her chain and back, the adrenaline rush mitigating her pain.  Her wrists were raw from trying to wiggle out of her restraints, and the chain hooked to her belt caused an uncomfortable knot in the small of her back.  Her kidnappers had solidly wrapped and padlocked the other end of the chain around one of the rails riveted to the floor.

Her crotch was chafed from wearing the same wet shorts for several days consecutive and the stench of her own urine was making her feel queasy.  The obsolete electrical lighting ominously buzzed and crackled, threatening to plunge her into pitch darkness.

“Bloody bastards with their damned liquid diet…probably laced with tranquilizers too!  Next time I’ll make sure that they get right next to me…they’re going to miss their balls once I’ve kicked them in for good!” She thought, fuming.

Alerted by the sound of approaching male voices, Sara Kraft swiftly laid on her side against the cold mine floor, carefully selecting a spot on which she hadn’t previously urinated; playing possum.

“I SWEAR Smith, keep walking and SHUT THE HELL UP!  One more snivel out of you and I’ll shove you down the elevator shaft and save the United Cartel a bullet!” One voice, unfamiliar to her, commanded.

“Hello? What’s this now?” She wondered.

“You need me to lead you to her and back out!  Besides, murdering me won’t look good on your record!” Smith’s familiar voice replied, with false bravado.

“FBI Special Ops with full Carte Blanche status wise guy, the Bureau won’t even question the disappearance of a drug smuggler and kidnapper on my watch; keep on annoying me and I’ll take my chances on my own. Now shut it and keep walking!” the commanding voice said, its stern tone conveying the seriousness of the statement.

“FBI Special Ops? Finally, the Cavalry’s here! The Sheriff and Agent Chavez called in the big guns it would seem!” She thought, propping herself up in a seated position with her elbow.

Smith finally elected to keep quiet, as the footsteps drew closer.  Sara giggled loudly through the piece of duct tape covering her pretty mouth at the sight of one of her captors, unmasked, and dressed only in a ratty t-shirt, his boxer shorts and worn sneakers with no socks. His hands were restrained behind his back.  The FBI Agent walking next to him was holding him by the collar, and smiled as she giggled.

“Handsome looking fellow, broad shouldered and quite muscular from the looks of it…I prefer women, but I’ve never said no to a rugged, muscular male…me-ow!” She thought, casting the young FBI agent an appreciative look.

He kneed Smith at the back of the leg to force him to his knees then on his stomach.

“You stay put if you know what’s good for you.” He said, with authority.

He turned his attention to Sara, who sat Indian style, desperately trying to hide the wet crotch of her shorts with her feet.  Smiling sympathetically, he unclipped his ID and badge from his belt.

“I’m Agent Quentin Sullivan of the FBI’s Special Ops Division Ms. Kraft…or is that FBI Special Agent Quentin Sullivan?” Sullivan mumbled, sounding flustered at the sight of the attractive Sara Kraft.

“Ah, the young dashing Federal Agent feels intimidated at my sight, good to know…I wouldn’t mind some of that after I tidy up!” She thought, feeling desire in spite of the circumstances.

He shrugged and continued.

“Regardless, Mr. Smith here generously donated his jeans so you could have a dry change of clothes…” Sullivan said, pointing at the pants slung over his shoulder.

He clipped his ID and badge back to his belt.

“Even in her current situation, she’s hotter than Hell…” he thought, privately.

“Let me cut you loose; I’ve commandeered one of your captors’ Bowie knives on my way in, Sheriff Green didn’t mind.  Smith, you so much as move a muscle and I swear I’ll feed you your balls for dinner! I’ll let you remove that tape from your mouth Ms. Kraft, I’m afraid I might hurt you if I did it myself.” Sullivan said, addressing both Sara and Smith; as he walked behind Lady Kraft, slicing through her restraints like butter.

She nodded in agreement, as Sullivan got busy opening the quick connecting link that hooked the chain to her belt. She gently pulled the piece of duct tape from her mouth.

“Ahhh, thank God, I could no longer feel my lips!” She said, tossing the piece of tape sideways.

He handed her Smith’s pants with an apologetic smile.

“Not perfect but you’ll feel better with dry pants!” Sullivan said.

“Much appreciated Special Federal Ops Agent Sullivan…help me up?” She asked, gracing him with a wink and smiling for the first time in what felt like an eternity.

He crouched next to her and wrapped his right arm around her waist.  She slung her left arm across his shoulders as she held her ‘change of clothes’ in her right hand. Effortlessly, he helped her to her feet.

“You’ll need to be examined by a Doctor…but for now; I’ll look the other way while you change.” Sullivan said, after noticing the red marks left by the ropes on her wrists and forearms.

“Such a gentleman!  But I’m fine I promise, a hot bath, a clean change of clothes and a steak dinner…I’ll be right as rain!” she said, smiling at her handsome savior.

Sullivan helped Smith back to his feet and moved so they had their backs turned to Lady Kraft as she changed out of her wet shorts and into Smith’s dry jeans.

“All the same Ms. Kraft, I hate to leave anything to chance.  Please have a Doctor examine you…once we’re out I’m sure Sheriff Green can arrange a house call for you. Then I’ll get an emergency DEA pickup going.  Hint-hint Smith, if you were to convince your pals to be nice to them, you might just avoid the United Cartel’s wrath.” Sullivan said.

“Not unless we’re relocated on Mars, or if the DEA has good plastic surgeons.  We’re dead men walking.” Smith said, with a grim look on his face.

“Cry me a fucking river!  Your crew desecrated Navajo burial grounds for a deplorable drug smuggling operation!” Sara Kraft snapped, dropping her wet shorts and panties to the mine’s floor.

“And to top it all off, you kidnapped Ms. Kraft and kept her prisoner under atrocious conditions!  I’m actually rooting for the United Cartel as far as what they have in store for you shit heads!  Then again, chances are that the DEA will offer you assholes a deal in exchange for whatever information you can provide!  Anyway, my mission was Sara Kraft’s rescue; the rest is up the DEA.” Sullivan said, casting Smith a disdainful sideways look.

“Then I’d say, mission accomplished Mister Sullivan!” Sara Kraft said, now wearing Smith’s jeans, which looked baggy on her.

She walked next to Sullivan and kissed him on the cheek. Gracing Smith with an angry scowl, she threw her urine soaked shorts in his face.

“AW FUCK!” Smith shouted in protest.

“Alright, you’ve made your point Ms. Kraft, now let’s get out of here!” Sullivan said, chuckling.

“Sara…please, call me Sara!” she said, smiling as they began their trek back to the outside.

“Only if you call me Sully, my friends call me Sully!” He replied, smiling like a goofy love-struck teen.

Ten minutes later, they made it to the outside. Sara Kraft inhaled deeply, reveling in the late afternoon sunlight with a joy that illuminated her pretty face; under the applause of Sheriff Green, Agent Chavez and the twelve volunteer Navajo Warriors. Blushing, she kissed Sullivan’s cheek again.

“Sheriff, if you could arrange for Ms. Kraft to be examined by a Doctor?  And please ignore her pleas that she’s fine, don’t argue Sara!” Sullivan said, casting Sara a stern but friendly frown.

She shrugged and smirked, actually glad for the attention she was getting.

“I’m going to arrange for a DEA pickup and hand the case over to them. A heartfelt thanks to all of you Warriors who volunteered to assist us on this mission!” Sullivan said, pulling his cell phone from his jacket pocket.

The Warriors responded with a celebratory victory cry, as Sara mounted the Sheriff’s horse, sitting behind her. Before they left, Sara cast Sullivan a heart-melting look, silently mouthing the words ‘thank you’.

“I could so make love to a woman like that…” he fantasized, then snapped to attention as Chavez addressed him.

“Grab a few beers after the DEA team shows up Sully?” Chavez asked.

“Carlos, I’ve been wanting an ice-cold beer since getting off the plane!  You’re on!” Sullivan answered, smiling as he pressed the DEA’s speed dial button.

Chapter 9

After enjoying a few beers and chicken wings with Agent Chavez, Sullivan had returned to his Hotel room.  He was completing his mission report on his laptop when he heard a knock at the door.  He hit the send button and stood up, walking to his room’s door.

“Sara?” He said, pleasantly surprised as he opened the door.

“Yes Sully, I feel like I never properly thanked you, perhaps we could have a nightcap?” Sara said, smiling.

“No thanks are necessary, but I’ll never say no to charming company! Please come in, had I known you’d drop by I would have tidied up and dressed appropriately!” Quentin said, returning her smile as he let her in.

“My dear Sully, after spending what, a week? Ten days? Chained to a rail, being straw-fed by smelly, unkempt men; I can honestly say that you are the very image of elegance and cleanliness!  And quite sexy if I do say so myself!” She said, her smile turning into a mischievous smirk.

“Quite sexy? Oh my God, one of the sexiest women since the Ice Queen thinks I’m sexy?  Thank You Lord, thank You, thank You, thank You!” he thought, feeling his pulse racing as he closed the door.

“I…humbly accept the compliment, and I must say you are quite attractive yourself; in fact, the term ‘attractive’ hardly describes how beautiful you look…” he said, his voice trailing off.

She was dressed in a long, black silk dressing gown; displaying just enough cleavage of her ample bosom and plenty of smooth, naked leg.  Her hair was styled in its traditional long ponytail, and her trademark round-framed glasses had been temporarily replaced by soft contact lenses that fully displayed her lovely hazel eyes.  Her well-groomed feet were bare, and her strong but smooth hands carried a bottle of brandy and two glasses.  She put the bottle and glasses on the small table and nodded in appreciation as Quentin pulled a chair for her.

“And I humbly accept your compliment!  Handsome, elegant, well-mannered and charming!  Come, sit with me and have a glass of brandy! This is from my personal stock, which I only drink on special occasions.  Being rescued from my latest bind…yeah, I’d say that definitely qualifies!” Sara said, casting him a penetrating look that made him feel weak in the knees.

“Damn…last time I felt this overwhelmed over a pretty girl was…face it Sully, Lucy was red hot, so was Carla, so was Jenna…but none of them had me this overwhelmed, the only one who did…was ball-buster Brenda!”  He thought, realizing once again that he still wasn’t over her.

He sat down, facing Sara. As she poured the drinks, he noticed that the red marks on her wrists and forearms were gone.

“That’s amazing, your wrists and forearms were raw when I cut your restraints; now they look fully healed!” he said, gently taking her hands in his after she had finished pouring the drinks.

“Holding my hands Sully?  How sweet and romantic!” she said, with a teasing wink.

“So you won’t give me an explanation then?” he asked, with a subtle smile on his lips, letting go of her hands and reaching for his glass.

“First, a toast!  To new friendships, good health and adventures that end well!” Sara said, raising her own glass.

“Here, here!” Quentin said, as they clinked glasses.

They each took a sip, looking into each other’s eyes. Sara took a deep breath.

“The simplified explanation, is that every other generation or so, descendants of the being known as Aphrodite show signs of the Aphrodite genome, case in point.” Sara said, tapping her index finger on her chest.

Quentin resisted the urge to stare at her breasts, forcing his gaze on her eyes.

“Women with said genome are generally well-endowed, have great endurance and stamina, and show enhanced athletic and healing abilities; which explains how I’ve healed so quickly.  Another fine example of an Aphrodite type is Ms. Americana in Delta City.  She recently sent a nation-wide invitation to other Aphrodite types to join together…I’m still debating whether or not I should go.” Sara said, looking down at her drink.

Quentin nodded thoughtfully, taking another sip.

“I wonder…one of my ex-girlfriends showed many of those attributes, could it be that she too was an Aphrodite type?” Quentin asked, curiosity getting the better of him.

Sara looked at him with a knowing smirk.

“There is one tell-tale sign…when you engaged in intercourse with her, did you feel this euphoric sense of desire, driving you into a sexual frenzy?” she asked, inserting her bare right foot under his left pant leg and caressing his shin.

“I…as a matter of fact, yes, similar to the sense of euphoric desire I’m feeling for you right now…we’ve just met but…if I may be so bold…” Quentin said, feeling a strange sense of vertigo.

She smiled warmly, moving her left foot to his crotch, feeling his erection.

“Yes Sully, please be bold!” Sara said, flirtatiously.

“I’ve been attracted to you from the get-go…pee-soaked shorts and all.  And right now, I want you so bad I’m hyperventilating and feeling dizzy!” Quentin replied.

“The attraction is mutual, after all, I am seducing you aren’t I?” she said, her right foot moving from his shin and joining her left; massaging his boner with both feet.

“Seducing? I’m yours for the taking!” Quentin said, caressing the smooth skin of her feet with his left hand, taking another sip of brandy with his right.

Sara laughed, her right nipple slipping out of the comfort of her silk dressing gown for him to see.  She casually covered it back up, took a sip of brandy and continued; her feet still working on his cock.

“Mind you, I do have an unfair advantage…the same one your ex had.  Aphrodite types secrete a sex pheromone when aroused.  It acts like an irresistible love potion that drives both her and her partner into a sexual frenzy. The potency of the Aphrodite pheromone is so intense, that most Aphrodite types are bisexual.  That pheromone can also backfire royally if the wrong people are around when it’s airborne…thankfully this didn’t happen with the kidnappers.” she said, enjoying the feel of his hands caressing her feet, shins and calves.

They emptied their glasses, clumsily putting them down on the table. Quentin gently moved her feet away from his crotch so he could move in closer; grabbing her by the lapels of her dressing gown, pulling her against him. Offering no resistance, she closed her eyes and parted her lips, accepting his kiss; greeting his tongue with hers.

Holding her firmly by the lapels of her dressing gown as they passionately kissed, Quentin pulled her to her feet.  As their tongues continued their passionate game of tag, she moaned her approval as he pulled her gown open, releasing her perfect, massive, shapely breasts.  Lost in an Aphrodite pheromonal fog; Quentin’s mind raced as his hormones were doing the thinking for him.

“Not Brenda, but she kisses the same, feels the same, tastes the same, smells the same…fuck it! Tonight, Sara and Brenda are one and the same!” he feverishly thought, as her hands were getting busy with his belt buckle and he unfastened her dressing gown’s belt.

He did not realize nor care that the pheromones were making him once again lust for Brenda; all of the pain and anger he felt towards her was now forgotten in the pheromonal fog.  The black silk dressing gown slid to the floor as he released its lapels and she let go of his belt.

“You…are…beyond drop dead gorgeous!” he said, his mouth feeling dry in spite of the brandy they had just drunk.

She comically posed for him, and he marveled over her toned, shapely, athletic body, the large dark nipples on her bodacious, firm, perfect breasts and the perfect symmetry of her features. Above all, her hazel eyes and her pretty, smiling face fascinated him.  He smiled, as she now pulled his zipper down.

“I bet she has either South American or Indian ancestry, her nipples are near identical to Brenda’s but much darker…hotter than hell…” he thought, breathing fast.

“Flattery will get you everywhere, my dear Sully! Now take off that shirt while I pull those trousers off you, so I can admire your drop-dead gorgeous body!  Good thing you’re barefoot too, it will save us a step!” she said in a sweet sultry voice, pulling his pants and briefs down.

Chuckling, he pulled his t-shirt off and posed for her; flexing his muscles.  She whistled her approval and he took a comical bow. He then put his hands on the small of her back and forcefully pulled her against him, wanting to feel her massive breasts pressing against his body.  Enjoying his enthusiasm, she hugged him firmly for full effect and resumed French-kissing him.

Chuckling, she broke their lip-lock.

“Oh dear, I feel something hard against my pubis…what have we here?” she said, with a mischievous smirk, reaching for his boner.

Sullivan released his embrace, observing her as she massaged his cock with a firm but gentle grip.

“So big and hard, I’m flattered Sully…now don’t cum yet, I’m just warming you up!” Sara said, masturbating him at a slow pace.

“Breathe…remember to breathe…I can always eat her out if I cum too soon…but the orgasm is better if I let it build longer…” Quentin thought, trying to muster his self-control.

“That’s it Sara…nice and slow does it; go any faster than this and I’ll blow my load and need a few minutes to get hard again…” he said, his voice deep and mellow.

She smiled and gave him a peck on the lips, carrying on with her cock massage. He cupped her breasts, pushed them up and together making her gasp. He moved his mouth from her right nipple to her left, back and forth; licking, suckling and gingerly biting them, making her moan her appreciation.

“Hmm, yess…that’s a good opener Sully!” she said in a near whisper, ripples of pleasure coursing through her body.

“Your breasts taste so good, I wonder how your pussy tastes?  I bet it tastes delicious!” He said, his voice sounding hoarse.

“Bed’s right there Sully, if you want to have a taste, let’s reconvene in bed!  You taste me, then I’ll taste you!” she said, her voice sounding breathless.

With a wicked grin, he firmly squeezed her breasts and gave her left nipple a harder play bite.

“OH!  Cheeky boy!” She yelped, giggling, letting go of his cock and giving him a playful swat on the shoulder.

Before he had the chance to sweep her off her feet to carry her to bed, she took a flying leap towards the bed with the grace of a gymnast, still giggling.  She landed in bed on her back, ample bosom jiggling merrily.  Gape mouthed, Quentin applauded.

“Impressive! I barely had a chance to reach for you!” he said.

“You see I wasn’t lying when I said us Aphrodite-types have enhanced athletic abilities! Now don’t just stand there with your mouth wide open you silly goose, face here; taste me!” she said, spreading her legs and pulling her labia open to expose her clit and dripping vulva.

“Don’t have to tell me twice!” he mumbled, climbing in bed with her.

Grabbing her by the hips, he buried his face in her crotch, making her gasp loudly, her legs over his shoulders.  His tongue traced a wet line around her vulva, clit, labia, anus, then up and down repeatedly; licking her, anus to clit.

“Oooh you teaaase!” she cooed, pinching her left nipple with her right hand and playing with Quentin’s hair with her left.

“I can say you taste positively delicious! Now let’s see if I can get you to cum!” Quentin said, moving his left hand to her lower belly and gently pressing down.

“You can certainly try, but I don’t cum so easily – OH MY!” Sara said, as he inserted his right hand’s index finger in her pussy, still licking her clit.

“Saw that in a porn flick…I wonder if it really works?” he wondered, pressing down a bit harder on her lower abdomen, finger fucking her and suckling her clit.

“Oh YEEESSS! Press down on my G-spot!” she shouted in a high-pitched soprano voice, moving her left hand to her chest, kneading her massive breasts with both hands for extra sensation.

“Looks like the answer’s yes!” he thought, increasing the pressure on her lower abdomen, finger fucking her faster and licking her clit at double-speed.

“Sully…Sullyyyy! Don’t stop…buh…buh…bum…” Sara stammered, hyperventilating, rubbing her nipples.

“Huh?” Quentin said, interrupting the licking but keeping up with the lower abdomen pressure and pussy fingering.

“Buh…buh…bum, both holes…puh…puh…please…fuh….finger…buh…both…” Sara begged, panting.

“Well, you’re so wet you’re oozing all over your anus and I’ve added my saliva to the mix…hang on…” Quentin said.

He grabbed her by the hips again and lifted her pelvis from the bed. With her legs still on his shoulders, she raised her pelvis a bit higher, to allow him a better access to her anus.  He licked her love juices, then her anus, gently introducing his tongue in her back door, inserting his saliva and her pussy secretions in her tight ass.

“Hm…that tongue…that crazy, talented tongue…” she groaned, pinching her nipples.

He returned her pelvis to be bed, and his left hand to her lower belly.  Gently and slowly, he inserted his fingers in her, index in the pussy, middle finger in the ass.  He resumed flicking his tongue on her clit.

“ARRRGH YEAH! ALL THE WAY IN!” she shouted, every sensory nerve in her body reaching overload; breasts, G-spot, clit, pussy and rectum being stimulated.

He gradually increased the cadence of his finger fucking hand, matching its speed with his tongue, keeping a constant pressure on her lower abdomen. Sara grunted and groaned increasingly loud, giving in to powerful simultaneous orgasms.

“UUUUH GOD YESS! Geeee-spot! Cuh…cuh…cliiiit! Puh…pussyyyy! Buh…buh…buuum!  Tuh…tuh…tiiiits! HMMUUUUUUHHH CUMMMIIIIIIING!” Sara shouted, her face flushed.

Quentin stopped licking her clit, released the pressure on her lower abdomen but kept up the finger double-penetration at a slow, gentle pace.

“Oh baby stop…Sully… stop…come here and hold me…please, while a catch my breath!” Sara asked, breathless.

He gently pulled his fingers out and gave her clit a gentle kiss, making her gasp.  She slid her legs off his shoulders and he crawled next to her and wrapped his arms around her, holding her close.

“Baby…she called me baby…I know it’s just pillow talk but damn it feels good!” Quentin thought, smiling.

“Wow…your Aphrodite ex trained you well, I usually never cum this hard or that many times during foreplay!” Sara said, impressed.

“Just a quick learner I guess!  Didn’t you say you wanted to taste me too?” Quentin said, smirking.

“In a minute big boy, you just gave me multiple orgasms! Clit, G-spot, pussy, bum…and my nipple massage gave me a nice extra one…a girl needs to get her bearings back!” Sara said, tracing Quentin’s pecs with her index finger.

“Take your time gorgeous, take your time!” Quentin said, kissing her on the forehead.

She moaned contentedly, enjoying the moment, the quiet.  She felt cozy and safe in his arms.

“So…how many times did you cum?” Quentin asked, curious.

“Five times big boy, I didn’t even have that big banana of yours in me yet!” Sara said, blushing.

“Saved by porn…at least if I cum too fast when I fuck her, she’s already satisfied!” Quentin thought, with a bit of relief.

“I humbly accept your compliment of my appendage, though I’m sure you’ve seen bigger.” Quentin said, smirking.

She slid her hand down to his crotch and grabbed his cock with a full handed grip, slowly masturbating him again.

“This may sound clichéd, but like a porn actress acquaintance of mine once told me, ‘you can’t park a Continental in a small garage my dear!’” Sara said, increasing her cadence.

Quentin chuckled at the thought.

“Agreed, some women are built differently and can tolerate the larger ones.  Aphrodite types can handle them better than the average woman, but generally, the so-called monster cocks are instruments of torture at best. Imagine being kicked in the balls continuously when you’re having sex? Having the head of a penis repeatedly pounding your cervix during sex feels about the same.” Sara said, observing Quentin’s reactions.

“Doesn’t sound too pleasant at all…I guess some women are masochists…” Quentin mumbled, as Sara complimented her hand job by rubbing her breasts on his chest.

“Some women are good at faking it, a few of them actually enjoy the pain…but consider this, the majority of the nerve endings in the vagina are located near the opening, and not near the end of the tube, so…your big banana is an instrument of pleasure, not pain.” Sara said, now rubbing her breasts on Quentin’s abdomen, still masturbating him.

“Lemme feel those big tits on my cock, please…” Quentin moaned, hating the fact that he was begging, but too horny to really care.

“Patience big boy, patience! And let me say this: compared to some of the scumbags who tried to force themselves upon me in the past, your cock is gigantic.” Sara said with a wink, her voice taking a hypnotic quality.

She obliged him, positioning herself between his legs. She pressed her massive, firm breasts in his groin, sandwiched his cock between them, teasing a tit-job but then releasing him.  She proceeded to repeatedly rub her breasts on his groin, cock, balls and lower abdomen.

“Ho-ly-shit Sara, that’s too good!” Quentin moaned, eyes rolling back in his skull.

Satisfied with how horny she was making him, she grinned and sandwiched his cock between her tits again, this time going ahead with the tit-job.

“Oh my God Sara, yeah! Don’t stop!” Quentin grunted, breathing hard.

“Oh you like that you dirty boy? You like Sara’s big boobies jerking you off?” She asked, her voice sultry and smooth.

“Yeah baby…” he mumbled.

“I can’t hear you!” She said, loving the fact that he was putty in her hands; or in this case, between her breasts.

“YEAH BABY! And if you don’t slow down I’m gonna shoot my load between your big tits and all over your chin!” he said, in a near shout, still breathing heavily.

“No you don-on’t! Not ye-et!” Sara said, pulling away, with a teasing grin.

Quentin grunted loudly, his hands grabbing at the bed sheets.

“Thank you…I’d call you a tease, but I didn’t want to cum yet anyway, I want to pleasure you some more before I cum…” Quentin said, catching his breath.

“Good boy!  Remind me to thank your ex for training you so well! Time to have a taste then?” Sara said, her voice once again a hypnotic drone.

“Please…though my ex and I kinda lost touch, didn’t exactly part on good terms…” Quentin blurted out, anticipating the sensation of her warm, wet mouth.

“Now that’s a shame…though I sure appreciate her influence on you!” Sara said, with a wink.

She moved from between his legs to his left, her big breasts now pressed against his muscular left thigh.  She slid her right hand to the base of his cock and cupped his balls with her left; resting her left elbow on the bed, between his legs, for balance.  She kissed the tip of his glans, obtaining a moan.  She then licked the tip, tasting his precum, making him gasp.

“Yum, thus far I’m enjoying the taste of this banana…” she said, now licking the whole glans in a circular motion, as if she were licking an ice cream cone.

“Oh baby yeah…” he groaned, feeling her saliva dripping down his shaft.

She observed his reactions, as she slowly and deliberately engulfed the head of his penis in her warm, wet mouth, flicking her tongue on his hard flesh as she tightly wrapped her lips around it. She was not disappointed, as Quentin arched his back, his abdomen rising and falling with his every breath.

“In me power Agent Sullivan! Let’s try a bit deeper…” she thought, now taking half his length in her mouth, bobbing her head up and down; first slowly, then a bit faster, being careful not to make him cum too soon.

“Oh Sara baby…don’t stop…” Quentin said, resting his left hand on her fleshy rump; giving her left buttock a firm squeeze, making her coo her approval as she took more of his cock in her mouth, her lips now touching her right hand at the base of his penis.

Overtaken by lust, she sat up in bed with a loud groan.

“Hot enough Sully? I can’t wait anymore, shove that big banana in my pussy!  Fuck me!” Sara hissed, in a commanding tone, assuming position on her hands and knees.

“Ask and ye shall receive!” Quentin said, sitting up and kneeling behind her.

He rubbed the head of his cock on her clit, vulva and anus, teasing her.

“I want it in me Sully, pussy or arse, I don’t care; stop teasing meee!” Sara begged, trembling.

“Better be careful what you ask for, naughty girl! But I’ll be nice!” Quentin said, guiding the head of his cock in her hot, wet pussy; sliding it in.

“YEAHHH!”  Sara grunted, teeth clenched, the teasing, anticipation and release from the actual penetration brining her close to orgasm number 6.

He grabbed her firmly by the hips and rocked his pelvis back and forth, pulling out every once and again. While she thought it to be for more teasing purposes, in reality, it was in order for him not to cum prematurely.

“Sullyyyy…you’re-a-ma-ziiing!” she moaned loudly, grabbing the bed sheets, enjoying Quentin’s whimsical tempo and cadence.

“And you deserve nothing less!” he said, also clenching his teeth, the Aphrodite pheromones making it difficult for him to delay orgasm.

“Holy shit! She’s so tight you’d think she’s still a virgin! And burning hot, and wet…” he thought; too focused on not shooting his load prematurely to remember that it had been the same way with Brenda, back in College.

He slid his hands to her buttocks and spread them, penetrating her all the way in, grinding her.

“Uuuurrgh!” She grunted loudly, feeling a mixture of pleasure and pain.

He pulled back, feeling guilty.

“I’m sorry, are you okay?” he asked, caressing the small of her back.

“I…it’s okay, but it was too deep…don’t thrust too hard or grind into me if you want to go in that deep again okay?” she said, panting.

“Promised, in fact, roll on your back; doggy is hot, but right now I’d love to look into your pretty eyes and watch your big tits bounce; and that’s hotter!” he said pulling out.

Giggling, she turned around and lay down on her back.

“Hotter, and the pubic bones will prevent that big banana of yours hitting my cervix again, and it’s easier to stimulate my clit this way, and I can enjoy the passionate look on your handsome face…” she said, smiling.

“Yap, yap, yap, you talk too much!” he said, grinning as he grabbed her firmly by the ankles, spreading her legs apart and pushing them forward, until her knees were touching her armpits.

“Ha! Ha! Ha!  I just love your enthusiasm!” She said, her giggle turning into a hearty laugh.

Still holding her by the ankles, he feigned missing her vulva with the head of his penis, teasing her by rubbing it against her clit. She clenched her teeth, once again grabbing the blankets underneath her.  Multiple pleasurable impulses originating from her clit, coursed through her body with an intensity that was borderline uncomfortable.  She craned her neck, eyes bulging, casting him an intense, almost angry look.

“IN, DAMN YOU! Stop teasing me and stick it…OHHH!” she hissed, driven mad with lust; and then shouting out in a mixture of surprise and pleasure as he slammed his cock into her hot, moist core.

Her head fell back on the pillow, wide-eyed and gape-mouthed.

“I think I came again…” she said, in a weak voice.

“I’m glad! Now brace yourself gorgeous lady…” he said, grinning smugly, pulling back until only the head of his cock was in her; never letting go of her ankles, knees still pushed into her armpits.

He pulled her feet to his face, kissed her right foot, then her left, making her moan appreciatively.

“That feels rather nice, never had my feet kissed before!” Sara said, caressing her nipples.

He spread her legs open again and winked at her. Gently, he began rocking his hips, giving her shallow thrusts, counting each thrust.

“One, two, three, four…” he said, with a mischievous expression on his face.

“What are you…” she asked, still caressing her nipples.

“FIVE!” he exclaimed, with a hard deep thrust.

“AAHH! That’s…” Sara blurted out, the surprise making her grab her breasts with force; the wide-eyed and gape-mouthed expression back on her face.

Satisfied with the effect it had on her, Quentin repeated the process.

“One…” he said, making each shallow thrust slow and deliberate.

“Oh dear…” Sara said, trembling with anticipation.

“Two…” he said, tightening his grip on her ankles, enjoying the sight of the buxom and shapely aristocrat squirming with pleasure.

“Sully that’s…” she said, in a shaky voice.

“Three…that’s it, squeeze me…” he said, as Sara involuntarily tightened her vaginal muscles for extra sensation, which he enjoyed as well.

“Not doing it on purpose…don’t stop!” she said, overcome with pleasurable sensations.

“Four…” he said, taking his sweet time for suspense.

“Oh sully, you’re driving me…” she said, panting, anticipating the deep, hard thrust.

“FIVE!” he said, with the anticipated hard deep thrust.

“CRAZY!” she shouted, once again grabbing her breasts with force; wide-eyed and gape-mouthed.

Before he could repeat the five count, she let go of her breasts and held his face.

“Kiss me!” she asked, in a soft voice.

He let go of her ankles and leaned forward, kissing her, first tenderly, then fiercely, as she tilted her pelvis upward to press her clit against his pubis. He responded by pressing his pelvis down and rotating his pelvis, grinding her clit while still inside her pussy. She wrapped her arms around him and her legs around his waist, while he put his weight on his elbows and knees so he wouldn’t smother her.

“No man or woman before him gave me so many orgasms…” she thought, lost in orgasmic pleasure.

The clitoral grind was having its impact, as she experienced another orgasm, longer lasting and more intense than the previous ones.

“Hmmmmmm, Hmmmmhhh…HMMMMMMMHH!” she moaned loudly, still French-kissing.

He interrupted the kiss, looking into her eyes, smiling.

“Was that lucky seven?” He asked, his voice warm and smooth.

“No…niiiiine…” she said, her voice a whiny drawl.

“Wow…care for a pause?” he asked.

“No quite hot stuff, roll on your back!” she said, grinning.

“Ride me cowgirl!” He snickered, pulling out.

“Precisely what I had in mind!” She replied with a wink, as he lay on his back next to her.

She straddled him, slowly inserting his cock in her dripping pussy, leaning backwards and holding onto his shins, wanting his cock at shallow depth again, near sliding out.

“Now don’t hold back Sully, my porn actress acquaintance says this is like giving an intense hand job with the pussy; wet and tight.  I want you to explode, Sully, shoot your load all over!” She said, wiggling her ass and squeezing the top quarter of his cock inside her.

“Holy shit! That’s one move I wasn’t familiar with!  Fucking intense!” Quentin said, running his hands from her waist up to her chest, fondling her big breasts.

“Don’t hold back…I’m nearing orgasm 10, cum with me Sully, please! Cum with meee!” Sara commanded, in her whiny, orgasmic drawl.

“Oh my God Sara, that feels too good!  I’m gonna cum! I’M GONNA CUM!” Quentin howled, no longer able to hold Old Faithful back.

“YEAH BABY! CUMMING TOO!” Sara shouted along, releasing her grip.

As his cock slipped out and swung back upwards, his first salvo followed an odd arc; part of it hitting Sara’s pubis while the rest of it landed on his abdomen.  Before Sara had a chance to lean forward and grab his cock, salvo number two hit Quentin square on the jaw.

“Fuck!” he exclaimed, taken by surprise.

Sara finally leaned forward and grabbed Quentin’s cock, redirecting salvos three and four on her firm, shapely tits.  Once the salvos stopped, Sara gently caressed his cock, kissing the glans. They then looked into each other’s eyes, and burst out laughing.

“That was quite the gusher!” Sara said, giggling.

“The credit’s all yours!  Shower now?” Quentin asked.

“Wait, don’t move Sully, let me clean you up!” She said, with a bright smile.

She rolled out of bed, and scampered to the bathroom, breasts jiggling merrily.

“Hit in the chin by my own jizz, don’t know my own strength! Oh shit! Sara, the Aphrodite pheromones had me so horny I never even thought of using protection!” Quentin said, as Sara was busy wetting a facecloth.

“Not to worry luv, remember the scumbags who tried to force themselves upon me that I mentioned earlier? I’ve had a few close calls in the past.  The Aphrodite pheromones being what they are, I needed permanent protection as it were; so I elected to have an IUD put in.  Being bi, I mostly have sex with women anyway, that is until I meet the right type of guy; guess what that is?” Sara said, cleaning her pubis, breasts and cleavage with the face cloth.

“Well, I don’t like to brag…” Quentin mumbled, making her laugh.

She rinsed the facecloth thoroughly, and came back to bed, smiling.

“Your turn luv!” she said, wiping his chin, chest and abdomen clean.

“Thanks…that’s kinda hot!” Quentin said, making her chuckle.

She returned the dirty facecloth to the bathroom, rinsed it and hung it to dry on the edge of the sink.  As she returned to bed, Quentin’s cell phone rang.

“Sullivan here.  Hey kiddo! How have you been? Oh geez, those journalists…yeah, she’s safe and sound, would you like to speak to her?” Quentin said, taking the call, smiling.

He handed his cell phone to Sara, who was now sitting next to him in bed.

“My baby sister Isabella, she’s a big fan of yours!” Quentin said, with a grin.

She took the phone, smiling.

“Hi Isabella! I’m doing much better now, yes, thanks to your big brother!” she said, casting him a loving smile.

“Why thank you so much, that’s sweet!  Oh your big brother is a big sweetheart and quite a gentleman I might add! Thanks, I’m passing the phone back to him! Bye Isabella!” Sara said, pleasantly.

Quentin took the phone back.

“Hey kiddo…really? Congrats, that’s quite the promotion! My Assistant DA sister just got promoted!” Quentin said, first to Isabella, then to Sara who smiled at him, giving him the thumbs up.

His expression changed when he heard the rest.

“Oh shit…Izzy, I know you’re more than capable, but your talents are wasted cleaning up after District Attorney Patterson’s messes…agreed, it is a foot in the door, but his lackadaisical attitude has sent so many guilty criminals go free on a technicality…yeah, that’s why you got the job, to close his loopholes and tidy up his messes…okay; all the best Sis, give ’em hell, and don’t hesitate to call me if you need backup! Love you too, ciao!” He said, hanging up, looking worried.

“She calls you Quinn? I thought your nickname was Sully?” Sara asked, with a curious frown.

“Yeah, only Isabella calls me Quinn, when she was a little girl, she couldn’t pronounce ‘Quentin’, it always came out as ‘Quinn’, so the nickname stuck.” He said, absent-mindedly staring at the ceiling.

“Something dire happened near the end of that call Sully, what’s up?” Sara asked, lying down next to him, putting her head on his chest, concerned.

He inhaled deeply before answering.

“District Attorney Max Patterson is a drunken womanizer who’s been suspected of being on the take for quite a while, given his history of big time criminals walking free due to sloppy records keeping.  That’s the asshole my baby sister will be working with.  She’s a tough cookie and an amazing attorney…but I’m worried about my baby sister being thrown in the Lion’s Den; I don’t like it.  The case Patterson is currently messing up is regarding one Professor Pervo…” Quentin said, taking another deep breath.

“Say no more…I’ve tangled with that bastard Pervo in the past…on the one hand I hope your sister puts him behind bars for good…on the other hand I agree; that’s a very dangerous position she’s in, and she’ll need to tread carefully.” Sara said, wrapping her arms around him.

He rolled on his side to face her, accepting her hug.  They held each other for several minutes, in silence. Finally, Quentin spoke up.

“I’m gonna sound like big baby but…sleep with me tonight Sara?  The worry is killing me, could you?” He asked, in a low, deep voice.

“Of course, Sully, I’d love to! Just give me a few minutes, I’ll go to my room to remove those contact lenses, grab my glasses and be right back!” she said, kissing him on the cheek.

They released their hug, and she got out of bed.  She bent over to pick up her black silk dressing gown from the floor, big breasts dangling heavily, a vision of beauty that did not escape Quentin’s sight, making him feel lustful again.

“You’re the best!” Quentin said, hating himself for appearing so weak but happy that she agreed.

“You are a lovable hunk of a man Sully!  Now I’m being realistic, I know our lifestyles will in all likelihood take us on different paths; I accept that. But tonight, I’m all yours, and you’re all mine; I’m here for you!  See you in a bit!” She said, as she slipped on her dressing gown.

“Hurry back!” he replied, winking at her.

Sara bent over the bed and kissed him on the lips, her silk covered breasts touching his chest. She returned his wink and made her way to the door. Quentin closed his eyes and inhaled deeply again, trying to calm down.

“Izzy’s a big girl, and could always handle herself well…Sweet baby Jesus I hope she knows what she’s doing…then if she were here, she’d tell me ‘c’m on Quinn, breathe, I know what I’m doing’…breathe…” he thought, slowing down his pulse.

A few hours later, sleeping cozily in each other’s arms, Sara woke up, bothered by a thought that was nagging her since orgasm number 9.

“No man or woman before him gave me so many orgasms…this may be nothing more than an old folktale, but there have been stories of Aphrodite types marking their territory with their mates…swallowing his semen …once digested and turned into muscle tissue, he would be literally part of me, with me even after we part ways…” she wondered, looking at him as he slept.

“Unless of course his ex beat me to it…which means she expects their paths to cross again at some point in the future, or that she didn’t realize the implications of swallowing him…at least it would place me next in line, should anything happen to her…and even if our own paths never do cross ever again, I would have Sully with me, in me…and I’m sure he won’t mind an impromptu blowjob!” she thought, with a wicked smirk.

She slid her body down, gently pushing Quentin on his back. He moaned indistinctly but stayed asleep. Smirking, she carefully pulled the bedsheets down, and marveled at his sleep-wood.

“Yummy…” she whispered, gently grabbing his cock at the base and wrapping her lips around the glans.

“Hmmmhh…” he moaned, half awake.

She squeezed the base of his cock a bit harder and bobbed her head up and down on his shaft, increasingly faster.  Breathing fast, Quentin woke up.

“W…wow Sara, that’s a pleasant awakening! Come here!” Quentin said, reaching for her.

“No Quentin, this is all for you! I came 10 times, you only once!  Shoot that spunk down my throat!” She said, interrupting his blowjob.

“This isn’t a competitioooon! Holy fuck!” Quentin quipped, edging towards an uncontrollable orgasm as Sara was bobbing her mouth up and down his shaft at double speed.

“Sara I…I…I’m gonna cum!  I’M GONNA CUM!” he grunted, Old Faithful erupting uncontrollably, Sara greedily swallowing every drop.

She observed his body shaking and the euphoria on his face, feeling pride at the orgasm she had given him.

“Barely lasted two minutes! Damn I’m good!” she thought with a grin, now snuggling up to him.

“Holy fuck that was awesome! Blew my mind!” he said, holding her closer.

“Your mind? Here I thought I blew your cock!” she said, snickering.

Quentin chuckled, kissing her on the forehead.

“I guess my old weightlifting coach was right then, I am a dickhead!” he replied, eyebrows arched.

They laughed heartily at the mental image. Quentin looked at his watch and sighed.

“3 am…” he mumbled.

“Guess we should try to get some sleep…” Sara said.

Quentin nodded and kissed her forehead again.  Minutes later, they were sound asleep.

Chapter 10 – Epilogue, a few years later

A few minutes past midnight, a car sped away from the outskirts of Delta City.  The driver, Federal Agent Quentin Sullivan, turned into a side road that led into the woods.  He soon arrived at a secluded cabin.  He drew in a deep breath.

“Dead men don’t talk…better keep my Irish temper in check if I want to get the info I need.  Isabella’s soul won’t rest in peace until the world has been rid of the Aberration.  I may be Carte Blanche Special ops, but the powers that be are still cutting me a lot of slack, so I mustn’t blow it.”  He mused.

The End