Thank you for reading my story, I hope that you enjoy it. Love Mica xx, Yorkshire England.
All comments good or bad welcomed. I will try and reply to each and every one but please note that all anonymous comments will be deleted immediately and will not be read.
This story follows on from Agent part 1 -3 although they should be read first, this story will stand alone if you don't.
At just after nine my door went, it was Alice, she quickly stepped in and embraced me.
"Liz," she gasped, "I was dreaming about you all night."
"Oh, Alice, I have to go out in just over twenty minutes."
She looked crestfallen. But I had no time, not for me, not for her.
"Quick," I said, "my front room, get your knickers off."
"I'm not wearing any," she said.
"Perfect, sit on the settee and let me at you."
She sat and lifted her dress and parted her thighs. I threw a cushion down to kneel on, and leant forward and blew up and down her crease.
"Oh Jesus," she gasped.
I followed my blowing her crease with a slide up and down with my tongue between her lips and then a suck of her clitoris, she was gasping quite heavily. I gently pushed two fingers into her fanny and wiggled them back and forth, Alice was panting and gasping.
I sucked her clitoris hard into my mouth and Alice gasped and a small orgasm rippled through her, my fingers squeezed tight by her fanny.
I eased away and stood, "I really have to go," I said, "we'll have more of an opportunity at another time."
She stood and brushed her dress down and kissed me before leaving. I quickly washed my face and went round and knocked on Ali's door.
"Good," he said, "on time. Let's go."
I went and stood by the front passenger door of his car, and Ali called, "No, in the back, we have a driver."
I moved and stood by the back. Another man came from Ali's house and beeped the car unlocked. I opened the door and got in, Ali got in the other side, next to me, and then the driver got in and we were off.
The driver and Ali conversed in Arabic, I gave no indication that I understood. We were going to somewhere called 'Jamal' first. I leant back and looked at the buildings and houses as we drove, Ali rested his hand on my thigh, high up as before. After about ten minutes we pulled into what looked like an old factory or mill and parked up.
We got out, the driver stayed with the car. I followed Ali to a side door and we went in. It was quite dim inside, and I could hear the sound of moaning.
"Say nothing," Ali instructed as we entered a room. There was a naked man sat on a stool in the centre of the room, as my eyes adjusted I could see he was bound to the legs of the stool and seemed covered in blood.
"This is Jamal," Ali said. "He was trusted with some product, but Jamal thought we wouldn't notice if he took a little from every package."
Ali picked up a piece of wood and hit the man across his back, the man whimpered.
"We have calculated what he took at a total of two point five kilograms. He now has to supply us with that missing two point five kilograms, either with product or from his own body weight."
The man moaned and I heard him say in Arabic, "please no sir, please no, I will do anything sir."
I stood motionless. "Perhaps a foot," Ali said and then we can weigh it and see if we need more. He went over to a table and picked up an electric saw and buzzed the blade, the man on the stool wet himself, a puddle growing around the stool.
Ali put the saw down and ushered me from the room. "I will not show you that, but it will happen, I cannot be cheated by people I put trust in."
"I understand. The men in Birmingham had a similar approach, a pound for a pound. It is from Shakespeare I believe."
"Indeed. The Merchant of Venice. I assume your ex husband would have faced a similar dilemma."
"He may, but that was not my concern, I made my settlement and left. I do not know what happened to him."
"It would be difficult for an accountant if he, or she, were to lose their hands or eyes, would it not."
"Yes. I am not so stupid."
"I hope so."
He paused and then said, "The product was white powder, similar to cocaine, one that we had manufactured to our specification by a chemist in Leeds. It was he who alerted us to Jamal's light fingers. The Chemist is untouched and unharmed, he was honest with me."
"As I was in Birmingham."
"Indeed. The white powder returned us five hundred percent, but we could not offset the costs to the chemist, nor could we declare profits on the powder."
"Well, no, but there are legitimate ways to process those profits. A bank abroad would be of benefit. Do you have one?"