In my never ending quest to waste my talents, I present another easy target for the snipers.

I'm working on my procrastination issues. Just you wait and see.

To those willing to be my friend, if only I would change, pass.

Just troping along, as is my norm, as if I had a norm. Please read my profile for my stance on comments. Feel free to email suggestions or to start a conversation. Private messages work too.

A very special thanks to Townes Van Zandt: "You weren't your mama's only boy, but her favorite one it seems. She began to cry when you said goodbye, and sank into your dreams."

= = = =

Lester Nelson was a nerd in high school. He was a nerd in college, and he continues to be one to this day. A very smart nerd I should add. His government recruited him straight out of college.

It was Lester's dream to work in the deep dark world of government clandestine operations. That's where he is, technically. Those dreams of being a spy fluttered away from him like all beautiful women at a party. Lester was a genius when it came to analyzing social media. He could read and verbally understand over twenty languages. As such, he spent his working hours looking for clues of covert operations being planned or conducted.

There's someone for everyone. Paula Haggard was that special someone for Lester. A somewhat pudgy woman still battling acne, she also lacked in social graces. Yet, she managed to land herself a husband.

Two years into their marriage, a son was born. Two years later, that young boy had a brother. Life at the Nelson residence was good, for ten years anyway. When the kids started school Paula found a job in an office building. She worked the lunch shift in the food court. Spending that much time on her feet melted those extra pounds away. Maturity seemed to be the cure for her acne problem. With a little make-up, Paula found herself being flirted with. She liked the attention especially since Lester seemed indifferent to her new sex appeal.

For all Paula knew, Lester worked as a number cruncher for the Department of Homeland Security in an office near Phoenix. That's exactly what Lester wanted her to believe. Lester had emerged as an intelligence leader, but no one outside of his work environment was aware of it.

Still wearing his white short sleeve button up shirt, with pocket protectors east and west, Lester sat at their kitchen table. Putting a few notes on his legal pad, he heard Paula coming through the front door. That was odd as she had a spot in their garage for her car. She ushered in a well-dressed man. Years of training weren't wasted on Lester. He nonchalantly started his pocket protector recording device.

Cleve McFarland worked with Paula in the food court at the mall. Today, he was masquerading as a government official.

Presenting phony documents identifying himself as Special Agent Rogers "Mr. Nelson, I'm here to get your blessing to utilize Paula in a covert operation."

Lester immediately knew this was complete bullshit, but he went along for the ride "Really? Covert?"

"Yes sir. There is a supplier, Jarod Young, who is actually a spy for a foreign government. He has taken a liking to your wife. What we are proposing is to have Paula pretend to succumb to his charms."

Lester admired the man's gall. His feeble attempt to act like an intelligence agent gave amateurs a bad name, but Lester played along "Interesting. Exactly what does that mean, succumb to his charms?"

"Well sir, she would accompany Mr. Young to dinner this Friday night. Paula would continue on with Jarod until he tries to get her to become an operative for his country."

Turning to Paula, Lester pressed "And you are willing to risk your safety in this endeavor Paula?"

She quickly responded "You get to do something for our country every day. This is my opportunity to do my civic duty!"

Cleve added "We will be monitoring her each and every step they take. She should never be in any danger. I do need to warn you that Paula may end up joining Jarod in his room, but we will step in before any sexual advances are successful."

Turning again to Paula "And you're okay with this?"

"Agent Rogers has assured me that I won't be in harm's way."

Lester questioned Rogers "And this is a one-time event?"

"Yes sir. If Jarod proceeds as we anticipate, he'll seek her help that evening."

"What can I say then? It's your decision Paula."

Paula quickly replied "Then it's settled! When Jarod approaches me on Friday, I'll lead him on."

Agent Rogers bid his farewell. Paula got ready for bed. Lester retreated to his home office, locking the door behind him.

What bothered Lester the most was that he knew that they had agents working a sting in the office building where Paula worked. Was she being recruited to compromise those agents? Lester started his special virtual reality game, putting the full head gear on. Anyone else in the room would hear random noises from the headset.

There was a script to be followed as the screen came to life "Andy's Shoe Shop. How may I help you?"

Lester responded "My black shoes need new soles."

"What color shoes?"

"Orange."

"Please hold."

Lester waited about a minute before the call transferred to another extension.

The only word spoken to Lester was "Proceed."

"Own, Tool, Tree, Fort, Fight, Sex, Semen, Egg, None, Tent."

A computer generated response "Voice recognition successful."

Lester heard the call transfer. He knew what to expect, so he waited patiently. It wasn't long before his virtual reality screen restarted. This time a man was facing him.

"Good evening sir. I'm told you have a level orange issue?"

"My wife might be working for a foreign government. Section eight ten dash six requires me to report this. I have uploaded my recording of our conversation."

For the next fifteen minutes, Lester recapped his interaction with Paula and Agent Rogers.

The call ended with his contact reassuring him that he had done the proper thing and would get a resolution report. Lester removed his helmet, closed his office, and went upstairs to join Paula in bed.

Paula had been waiting patiently, wearing nothing but her stilettoes and tassels. Lester's cock immediately saluted her. After a sexy pseudo poll dance, including making the tassels rotate every which way but loose, she dropped gracefully to her knees. Paula gave Lester one of her best blowjobs ever. She pied pinched his cock between her cheek and gums. Try as he might to make this wonderful sensation last, Lester couldn't. Paula didn't miss a drop.

"Thank you for letting me be a spy."

"Well secret agent Paula, I appreciate your talents. None of that for any foreign agents. Got it!"

"Of course silly. I'm just getting him to open up and try to recruit me."

"As long as we're clear on that."

"We are, now come get my motor running."

Nerd or not, a tongue can make a woman purr. Lester made her squirm and beg before one final tongue lashing. Without her head buried in a pillow, that scream would have woken the dead. Lester went to check on the kids as Paula was too spent to move.

When he returned, Paula sucked him back to life and then presented her ass for some doggy fun. Reaching under, Lester pinched Paula's nipples causing a mild ripple through her pussy. It was more than Lester could stand as he shot his last load for the night.

Friday morning Paula reminded Lester "Wish me well. Hopefully I can help nab a spy."

"Be safe" as Lester kissed her cheek.

As 5 Pm approached, Cleve and Paula were giddy. Their plans for an evening of unbridled passion were progressing nicely.

When Cleve pulled out of the company parking lot, a black sedan was in close pursuit.

"Asshole is tailgating me" Cleve muttered to Paula.

"Ignore him sweetie" as Paula's hand rubbed the bulge in Cleve's pants.

Once onto the freeway, the black sedan quickly took to the second lane, pacing Cleve's car. The windows on the black sedan were tinted dark.

"What is this jerk's problem?"

"Maybe this will help honey" as Paula's head bobbed up on down on Cleve's cock.

Cleve's car's path was blocked by a slow moving tractor trailer. Looking into his rear view mirror he saw more eighteen wheelers. Before he understood what was happening, the black sedan had moved over to allow a tractor trailer to block the second lane. A third eighteen wheeler pulled onto the shoulder alongside of Cleve's car. A tractor trailer behind him completed the box. All the big rigs slowed to a stop, forcing Cleve to do the same.

"Damn woman you are good!"

Cleve would have been more concerned if he wasn't busy filling Paula's mouth with his spunk "Ohhhhhh fuck!"

Paula continued licking the head of Cleve's cock. When he regained his focus, Cleve immediately barked "What the fuck?"

The rear door of the lead eighteen wheeler opened and a man dressed completely in black fired a high powered Radio Pulse gun at Cleve's car. Cleve's car immediately ceased operating with all electronic functions disabled. If either Cleve or Paula had a pacemaker, they would have been killed. Confusion reigned in Cleve's car. Both of their cell phones were plastic doorstops now.

From the lead eighteen wheeler, a sharp pointed grappling hook was fired into the engine compartment of Cleve's car. The hook lifted the front end several feet off of the ground. The trailing tractor trailer, with its ramming grid bumper, pushed Cleve's car into the trailer of the lead eighteen wheeler. The door closed once Cleve's car was fully inside. All four eighteen wheelers rolled away and were soon headed in different directions. Cleve and Paula were screaming until gas of some form flooded the trailer. They lay unconscious, unaware of their fate.

Driving into the dark desert, the tractor trailer found a warehouse. Cleve and Paula were transported to separate rooms. Cleve's car was prepared to be compacted into an eight inch high block of debris. A flatbed delivered that new piece of junkyard art to the recycling center.

Paula recognized the sweet smell of the desert creosote bush. She was laying on a table strapped down, but face up and fully clothed. Her head, tilted slightly backwards, was clamped tightly. She could move her hands and feet, although her arms and legs were loosely restrained.

The bright light behind his head made it difficult for Paula to see facial features. He spoke calmly "Hello Mrs. Paula Nelson, if that's your real name. I hope you realize that your head is firmly held in place, albeit tilted back a bit?"

A very frightened Paula replied quickly "Yes!"

"Tell me, which government do you work for, and what secrets are you trying to get?"

"You're mistaken. I'm just a cook in the food court."

"Sorry. That's not what I heard, very recently in fact. Have you ever been waterboarded Mrs. Nelson?"

"NO! I'm not lying. Please believe me."

"Well you think about the truth while I visit with your accomplice."

Paula was shaking in fear as the man left her room. She listened intently to the loud speaker above her.

'Hello Mr. Cleve McFarland or is it Special Agent Rogers? We will find out what your real name is. I hope you realize that your head is firmly held in place, albeit tilted back a bit?"

A very frightened Cleve replied quickly "Yes!"

"Tell me, which government do you work for, and what secrets are you trying to get? I want you to talk as fast as you can until you've told me everything."

"I don't work for a government. I'm not trying to get any secrets."

"Sorry. That's not what I heard, very recently in fact. Have you ever been waterboarded Special Agent Rogers?"

"NO! I'm not lying. Please believe me."

"I'm going to place this sheet over your face and turn on this yellow hose. We'll water you down for a while and then you can try your answers again."

Pleading by Cleve was followed by coughing which was followed by gagging. Paula felt like he was drowning and it scared the piss out of her, literally.

After Cleve's coughing and screaming stopped, the audio from Cleve's room ceased. Paula was shaking, awaiting her fate.

Paula fared no better than Cleve. Her tormentor stopped when she started thrashing wildly, what little thrashing she could strapped to the table.

After Paula's coughing stopped, he removed the cloth.

"Relax dear. I'm going to see if your friend has a better recollection than you do. I'll be back to see if your stories match. Until they do, we will continue playing with water."

Coughing, gagging, and spitting out water, Paula choked out her response "Please believe me. I'm just a cook."

He ignored her and left the room. This time Cleve held his breath. Bad mistake. When he exhaled, and then gasped for air, there wasn't much to be inhaled. This drowning sensation was much worse than the first time.

The overhead audio, from Cleve getting another round of waterboarding, caused Paula to faint.

Paula didn't know how long she'd been out, but he was there when she regained her senses.

"Please, not again. I'm begging you."

He didn't appear to care "Let's try this again. Which government do you work for, and what secrets are you trying to get? I want you to talk as fast as you can until you've told me everything."

Paula's pleas continued "Please believe me. I'm just a cook."

"Very well. Maybe a little extra water will help your recollection."

"NO! PLEAESE" but the yellow hose cut her off.

This drowning sensation was much worse than the first time.

"I'll be back Mrs. Nelson. By the way, we were able to match your fingerprints. Our records indicate you really are Mrs. Paula Nelson."

Her coughing and spitting lasted more than a minute. Paula wasn't quite sure what he had said. Her anxiety level spiked when she heard the speaker above her again. She could feel the terror in Cleve's screams. She sobbed uncontrollably.

The speaker went quiet and then her door opened.

"Let's try this again Paula. I've got all night. The record is forty seven times before a heart attack claimed his life. Be stubborn and you might get a chance to break that record. Now tell me, which government do you work for, and what secrets are you trying to get? Again, I want you to talk as fast as you can until you've told me everything."

"You have to believe me. I'm a lowly cook in the food court. There are no secrets. Cleve and I were trying to fool my husband."

"We've been monitoring your husband, and you had a conversation early this week that sounded much different. Let's try another session."

"NOoooo" was followed by coughing and choking.

Even though she paced herself, the drowning sensation overpowered her again.

It was more of the same when the yellow hose stopped. She could feel her heart beating in her fingertips as her blood pressure was now dangerously high.

"Ready to be honest with me, Mrs. Paula Nelson?"

Spitting out the last gag's worth of water "YES!"

"What is your name?"

"Paula Nelson. My maiden name is Haggard."

"You say you work in the food court?"

"Yes. I've been there six years. My immediate supervisor is Emily Lou Harris."

"When were you recruited to do espionage?"

"I wasn't. I was lying to my husband. I'm just a cook. It was a ruse to let me go on a date with Cleve."

"I'm supposed to believe that the gentleman with you does not work for a foreign government?"

"He doesn't. I work with him. He's a cook too. We were trying to trick my husband into letting me spend time with another man."

"Seems very farfetched. One more chance, talk as fast as you can until you've told me everything."

For the next twenty minutes Paula's tongue was as fast as polished steel. She spilled her guts. Out came every detail of her life, from her first blow job to the one she gave Cleve a few hours ago. She gave up every secret she'd ever been told in confidence. The proverbial bus she was tossing people under would need monster truck wheels.

The tone of the agent changed "Well Mrs. Paula Nelson. I'd be very careful, going forward, claiming you are doing something for the good of the country."

Cleve, the over-confident Romeo, needed a few more hosing down sessions before his twenty minute singing session.

Both Cleve and Paula received the same parting message.

"Just to be clear. Your last day alive will be the day you tell ANYONE about ANY of this. Do you understand?"

Each responded with a wide-eyed "YES!"

When found soaked and shivering, Paula acted dazed and confused. She claimed she had no recollection of the night before. Lester was distant upon her return in the wee hours of Saturday morning.

Cleve made the headlines two days in a row.

'Local man alleges government kidnapped and tortured him.'

'Alleged kidnapping victim goes missing.'

A girlfriend was mentioned but luckily for Paula, her name never surfaced.

Lester tried talking with Paula but she would not let a single detail about that night escape her lips.

The final report declared Paula was not a threat to national security. However it did detail Paula's plan to cheat, along with pictures of her giving head to Special Agent Rogers. Lester was crushed and heartbroken. Even after presenting Paula with the pictures of her giving the blowjob, Paula claimed no recollection of that Friday night and refused to talk. The dust that Cleve inhaled down south, ended up in Paula's mouth. Her silence doomed their marriage.

Ten days after Paula returned home, Lester filed for divorce, claiming irreconcilable differences. It took him a few days to move out. Even after enduring the weeks of court mandated counseling, nothing changed. Lester lived in cheap motels, with most of his income going for alimony and child support. He was as good a father as the visitation schedule would allow.

Epilogue:

Poets tell how Paula squealed, and Lester living in cheap motels. The desert's quiet where Cleve lays cold. So the story ends, we're told. Paula needs your prayers, it's true. Save a few for Lester too. He only did what eight ten dash six had him do, and now he's growing old.

Paula attracted suitors but none of her relationships lasted as long as her time with Lester. Once a fan of spy novels and movies, Paula foregoes that genre now. It bothered Paula to pick the kids up from their visitation at Lester's motel. The hose outside of Lester's room was yellow.

Lester still wears white short sleeved button shirts. Lately he's been wearing gray rimmed reading glasses.

The romance gods were looking after Lester, out of kindness I suppose. He married Raelene Charles who was one of the seven Spanish-speaking Anglos working at the Alter of the Sun Motel. Oh, oh, oh, she'd been praying for a lover, yes she was, in the Valley of the Sun. Well, well, well, when the groaning stopped and the cum flowed, there were wings on Lester's feet when she took his Anglo ass home. That's a completely different story for another time.

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