BOOK VII

GETTING TO KNOW ALL ABOUT YOU

Michael and Nikita walked back to the elevator, leaving this vast com area behind. Not a glance was exchanged or a word was spoken until they had arrived at their destination, some twelve stories below the area they had been in.

Michael had with his iris, his handprint and his voice command, including saying the date and time, somehow gotten them to their destination.

The elevator door swooshed open then the second door did the same, after Michael went through the same process as in the elevator. And they walked into a beautiful and comfortable, yet ultra modern room, an office/home of some sort: Michael’s den.

There in this secret place Michael let Nikita really know him. The Section mask came off, his demeanour changed and Michael, her Michael, was back. Nikita was starting to understand that these two halves, made Michael’s whole. “Wow” was her first ‘word.'

Michael had every accoutrement anyone could need. In a corner of the room, on a level slightly raised there were all kinds of painting supplies, canvases, some painted, some not, paint, brushes, turpentine…And one of her God awful wire sculptures hanging from the ceiling with a light bathing it. As she started towards that area she noticed that the overall colors in this room were bright, almost out of character for the serious conservative Michael.

On the other corner an area for “music." Again the floor was slightly elevated. His cello and an incredible sound system sat in this side of the vast space. And the walls were covered with vintage records, LPs as well as CDs. Nikita even saw some 8 tracks and asked him what those were, to which he laughed and answered “Antiques." There was also every gadget to watch TV and movies ever invented. The screen came down from the ceiling.

Michael was leaning against a desk on the third corner next to the door. Made out of beautiful stainless steel legs and thick beveled glass top, it held an incredibly lovely picture frame and other desk ‘stuff.' The walls were lined with books from the floor to the ceiling, and a ladder attached to some mechanism for moving it lay against the bookshelves. He was watching her intently, shaking his head at the snooping she was so enjoying.

On the fourth corner Michael had a garage type area, there he had an old motorcycle he was obviously fixing, skis (snow and water), surfboard, parachutes, scuba gear, etc. All in the most primary bright colors. He even had a ‘sail fish’ boat. All this gear very well organized and lining the walls.

Then as you stepped down, in the center of the room an area for sleeping, one for eating and one for sitting. The bed Nikita noticed was not made and the clothes he had been wearing before were lying on the unmade bed. Nikita looked at him and he said, “I clean this area, no one else comes in here. Want something to drink?”

On the area between the ‘music and art’ sides there was a full bathroom. On the opposite wall there was a small kitchen. Opposite those walls on one side the door and the entrance, on the other a humongous fish tank that covered the entire wall.

“A soft drink of some sort, thank you.” As he moved to get her drink, she approached the desk. There she saw her picture in the beautiful frame she had noticed before. “Michael when did you take this.” It was Nikita in the Armel Mission. He stuck his head out of the kitchen and smiled.

Michael was a mystery, and when he approached her with her drink, she kissed him, slow at first and then as though her tongue had a brain of its own, passionately, wildly, and hungrily. Michael could be so difficult to decipher, but here in this magical place, hundreds of feet below the surface laid the real Michael, and she liked him.

“If that photo made you have that reaction, wait I’ll show you the rest.” He chuckled.

She said “Michael this is you, I have had a glimpse at the real you.” Her eyes were welling up with tears.

He gave her a quick chaste kiss and said “Kita, I told you to be patient, you’ll see,” Now let’s go my love, wedding plans await.”

“But before we go, can we please make straight love here in your special place.” She told him.

“In my dreams we have many times my sweet.” He told her as she was walking him backwards, without the use of her hands, towards the crumbled up bed. She knew it was time to be serious and back in Mission Mode.

“OK Mr. Jones, but please sir, let me deal with Adrian and Madelyn.” She said. “It is a deal Ni-ki-ta.” He answered and again holding her hand, and never one to deny her, he hugged her to his body and started the sensual dance of seduction. He cupped her ass through the cloth of her skirt, and stuck his tongue in her ear, swirling it around while ‘groping’ her.

“Mishel, the Mission” she reminded him interrupting the softest and wettest of kisses.

“Mmm…it’ll wait” he remarked taking the zipper on the back of her dress in his amble fingers and tugging until the garment pooled around her ankles. Since before in his dressing room, Nikita had not been wearing underwear. “Mmm” he said again as he pushed her to the bed and crawled between her bent legs, her feet still wearing the high heeled pumps. Pushing down her knees to give himself better access to the wonder that lay before him, Michael put his capable mouth to use.

“Mi….” she started to protest when she tried to pull him up to her lips.

“Kita, let me.” He mockingly castigated her. And there in their intimacy, they joined.

At first, softly, carefully, slowly, without hurry or preoccupations, as though they were used to this on a daily basis. His hands busy, one between them to rub her clit and the other one holding her head up to him. Nikita decided to take matters into her own hands, sort of, and flipped them over.

She pushed him to a laying position, grabbed his hands put them on her breast and started riding him like an expert equestrian. Up, down, around, letting out little irregular sounds. Michael’s eyes fixed on the sight before him. He could see their joining reflected in the mirror behind the bed. Erratic movements that took his breathe away. She was panting and calling his name over and over.

Her ass half off his legs, but his dick way inside her channel, rubbing her walls with great dexterity. She looked like a Jockey at the Kentucky Derby sinking completely into his rock hard cock, and slipping out entirely to just slip back down. Over and over again, their bodies met at this junction.

The comfort of before had been replace by desperation. Michael was holding his hips off of the bed and Nikita was now draped over him, her tongue out of her mouth licking and biting his chin, his ear lobe, and his taught nipples. His hands in her golden curls, one on her head, one in her nether region, were she would beg to be touched…”Michael, pleeeaassee."

Her plaintiff muffled by his mouth, who repeated over and over again “I love you” against the kisses being delivered. He stopped his movements, shocking Nikita’s over sensitized senses. He told her, “Slowly please, I want to savor this.”

She then sat up and again rocked on him, twicking his nipples. She reached between them and would grab his male organ every time it came out of her, hard with unbearable torke. Michael was loosing control, he thought to move her off and couldn’t move. He was delirious, and just said “Ready, Kita, I am coming.”

She was also beyond thought, all she could do was react when he moved her hand and buried himself deeper into her, rubbing the spot that soooooo made her come.

Her climax, joined with his was spectacular to say the least. Fire works went off in the back of their closed eyes. Her head almost touched the bed behind her, he was whimpering, Mr. Jones a heap of sensations so unleader like.

He laughed, “I am going to need a few minutes to come down, my queen.”

“Aghh,” she sounded when he shifted beneath her, “At least.”

After a while of quiet contemplation, eyes opened looking to each other, shallow breathing, bodies joined, when the heat and sweat of their bodies had been lowered by a few degrees, they started the task of helping each other dress.

They slowly, in companionable silence and dressed now, made the bed, called the elevator and went to meet the “wedding party” as Nikita had started calling the “mothers."

The consummate actors, and with Section masks in place, they exited the elevator discussing a series of sequences for an upcoming mission is Dajkalban. The country didn’t exist, the mission was a ruse, but the level of professionalism displayed by these two skilled Ops impressed everyone listening. They joined the ‘wedding party’ and departed for their rendezvous with destiny.

-*-

As most brides-to-be know, the planning of this joyous occasion, is at best difficult. In this scenario it was even worse, Michael and Nikita were after all on a Mission. Michael as the head of Section/Center/Oversight, had to concentrate on the Mission, even more than in the wedding, although he wanted her to enjoy it more than anyone else.

Extremely well, (she was after all getting what she wanted) she prepared all the details for the perfect, small, but cozy and astonishing wedding. There would be 50 guests. Of course Section would make sure that the targets were invited or at least know about it.

The dress, a simple Carolina Herrera number, high fitted bodice, French antique lace appliqués, Dior length, accrue satin skirt; strappy low sandals. Michael would wear a day coat designed by Oscar de la Renta. Traditional, yet extremely elegant. Even Madelyn was impressed. A string quartet providing the only music, and a soprano singing the Ave Maria during the ceremony, the beautiful pipe organ of the Church played by an organist would provide the procession music.

The beverage of choice Crystal Champagne only, nothing else, this she decided to satisfy Michael. The food, Maine Lobster tails with baby shrimps and crabmeat, or Beouff Medallions au Currant sauce, both surrounded by a bed of fresh asparagus tips and beefsteak potatoes and tomatoes. Cold white gazpacho, and an endive salad with a wine dressing.

The cake a simple two layer cheese cake with a fondant dressing and berries decorations. The cake’s top a Lladro porcelain-wedding figurine. The flowers peonies in the subtlest of pastels would be used throughout, and an incredible amount of pearl colored candles providing the only light both at the Church and the Reception at the hotel. Nikita would carry a bouquet that broke down to two separate ones, one to keep and one to share when she had to threw the flowers.

Michael’s boutonnière a pale peony bud surrounded by little baby’s breath.

No attendants would look better. Since Michael was “a widower," the two Operatives would write the ceremony conducted by an Op that was ordained as a Catholic priest. Simple handwritten invitations that needed to get out already, delivered by a tuxedo clad Operative. Only two weeks left for the wedding. All in all, a great plan.

The “wedding party” departed and left Michael and Nikita in the honeymoon suite, alone. Nikita had taken off her shoes and had put on one of the robes she found in the bathroom. She had turned on the stereo system to a soothing Montovanni. Nikita had ordered now the same food to be served at the wedding to check the selection, and it was arriving at the same time Michael arrived.

Nikita deserved a little break. She had dealt with Madelyn and Adrian all afternoon. With all the bickering and imposision, they had done an excellent job and played a pair of cantanquerous meddling mothers. They had enjoyed it too much Nikita had whispered to Michael when they finally met again.

He couldn’t see the wedding dress so he had been kept out of the suite while she tried on different gowns. So he had gone to the stores, bought her some clothes, some for him and had sized the rings they had used in the missions when they played married people. He had picked up an 18-carat gold-filigreed box to place the bands in.

The real surprise of the day was the engagement ring. Michael and Rhine had inherited from their maternal grandmother a pair of earrings with 3-carat diamonds surrounded by the reddest of rubies. Rhine had hers made into a pin she wore all the time. Nikita this afternoon had admired it and Michael had run into the vault and picked up his earring and having sent some flunky to find a jeweler had made his into an engagement ring.

Except Michael had done something more, making the earring different for Nikita. When he went out that afternoon, he had bought the daintiest of eternity rings, a pair, made out of baguettes which would anchor her engagement ring, and change the appearance enough to make it uniquely Nikita. Michael was full of emotions, but managed to act in Mission Mode in front of the “wedding party” when he showed them the ring.

Nikita was tired; she had fallen asleep sitting on the couch, waiting for Michael. Michael signed the check, tipping for the service an exorbitant amount. Needing to be remembered, and told the man he would set it up, he could leave.

Michael set the food service up and tiptoed over to sleeping beauty that was fretting in sleep, obviously in a deep nightmare. He rushed to the bathroom and took a quick shower, wearing the same apparel now as her.

He entered the living room and found her sleeping still . Michael kissed her succulent lips and woke her. “Hi” he whispered, kissing her again. She smiled, and licked her lips. “Let’s eat,” he said.

They ate as an old married couple. Nikita was wearing the ring he had given her. She had placed it on her finger, matter of factly, she had decided that this was going to let the “wedding party” see how committed to this Mission they both were. But seconds later, when their eyes had met, the promises that those shielded eyes showed were tremendous.

“Michael” she said savoring the lobster, succulent piece being calculatingly placed in her mouth. Michael watched the crustacean intently, feeling his erection grow. She smiled sheepishly. “I didn’t make a big deal of the ring because I wanted to show them that this is just a Mission. I love it; it made me want to scream. Thank you my love, this is as real to you as to me, right?”

He stood and walked around the table to her side, took off his robe and now naked bent down and took her hand, tears in his eyes, he took her delicate hand in his and slipped the ring off, and knelt one knee on the carpeted floor. “Nikita, will you marry me." This said with his accent soooo thick she could hardly understand him, she fell to the floor next to him and kissed him softly whispering “Yes, yes, yes, Y E S” she then screamed.

They hugged each other and rolled around on the floor. She picked up her head and said “No nookie now, let’s eat, I am hungry.”

He let out a boisterous laugh, and said “You better eat normally, spill something, get a piece of endive on your teeth, because you are turning me on and I may not be able to let you finish.”

“Michael” she said seriously “when we finish eating, can we play Master and Slave, or better yet, Mr. Jones and Cold Op.?” and then she smiled.

“Hurry, eat fast.” Was all he could muster.

~*~*~*

BOOK VIII

PRE WEDDING JITTERS

Michael and Nikita went to work for the next two weeks with incredible devotion. Michael’s Cold Op activities had almost ceased. Nikita’s had completely stopped, as she had become, more involved in Psych Ops and other administrative tasks.

Eventually Michael would stop all activities that put him at risk of injury.

Michael was now using Operations office; he had it changed to show more Michael’s style and taste. Nikita had taken over an office just outside his corridor and was displaying the open door policy she wanted so desperately to put in place. They had a training room outfitted outside Michael’s closed quarters, so they could train in private.

Operations and Madelyn happily had moved into Center, to a special wing just for their activities. Michael had decided after discussing it with Nikita one night in their bed, that it would be better if they took over Section completely, she could run it with his help whenever she needed it. She also had Walter, Birkoff, Chuck and other key personnel that would have supervisory control. Also, with Michael the head of Center and Oversight, he had much too much on his plate.

Michael liked the fact that Nikita was taking interest in all this. She was not being her whining angry self. What was done in this organization was important for the welfare of the world. She was learning his ways and understanding his actions.

Two nights before the wedding Mick Schtoppel came to get Michael for his Bachelor’s Party. It was a necessary part of the process, which Michael was dreading, almost as much as Nikita was dreading her Bachelorette Party. At least he was going to be with guys somewhere; she on the other hand, was going to share this with “the wedding party” and she almost pucked.

“It was great” Michael told her on the phone the next day. Neither of them was going to see each other or go into work. “I do have a problem," he deadpanned, and “I am having pre wedding jitters.”

Nikita hemmed and hudded. “Michael, are you having second thoughts?” And although she could hear the myrth in his voice, the old Nikita insecurity came crawling back.

“I can trust you, right?” he continued, ignoring the fear in her voice.

“Yes.” She hesitated.

“Well…after last night, if I could call off the Mission I would….pause…I think I fell in love with Mick.”

Nikita let out a loud scream, she fell to the floor laughing and added now relaxed “Michael, don’t worry, I could set up a room for Mick in our house and you could sleep with him every night.”

“I don’t know, he is kind of a loud lover, remember you could hear him from across the hall?” Michael retorted.

Again she laughed. “Now seriously. Any regrets Michael?”

Michael became silent, filled with emotions he confessed. “Nikita the night before I married Elena, when I was supposed to be in my Bachelor Party, I was on some Valentine Mission. I was married to Simone, who wasn’t at all happy with what was going on, to say the least. I was fucking some stranger, two days before marrying some other stranger. Then Simone was supposedly killed. We were mad at each other Kita.”

“Michael, you did get to tell her later how much you loved her. You showed her with such tenderness and care that it broke my heart to see you.”

“Kita, do you know that I didn’t know until that day how much I loved you, but I decided that if it took me all the rest of my life, I would show you.”

“Michael, please, tell me this is not just a Mission.”

“No my love, this is my way of marrying you. We are after all who we are, we can’t change that. We don’t have free will, but we can manipulate fate, and this is our way. Between you and me, and we are on a secured line, I am also using a devise to make sure this line is not monitored, this is real Nikita. This is more real than my marriage to Simone; this is more real than any other part of my existence and yours. I love you Kita.”

“Michael, what are you wearing?” She was overcome with joy and wanted to bring humor to the moment.

He laughed “Bon soir mon couer. Until tomorrow, rest because I promise that you will not be getting much sleep tomorrow after the wedding. Hell I don’t think you’ll be able to walk when I am through with you."

“Good night Michael. I love you too.”

-*-

It was a wise, savvy, modern day poet, by the name of Mick Jagger that said, “…You can’t always get what you want…but if you try real hard, you just might find, you get what you need." Nikita had heard Michael hum this song ever since she had known him. When he thought he was alone, he would hum this tune. Hell, he had chosen that song to dance to at their wedding reception years before. It was Michael’s philosophy.

The wedding had been magnificent and12 years had already passed. Michael and Nikita’s children had been born. Simone Josephine was 5 and the spitting image of her father. Robert Jacques was 3 and in contrast he was Nikita. A perfect commingling of Section and home life had been reached. The Mission that started this all had ended before the children were born. But not before the Organization had been brought up to the twenty first century as far as the people factor was concerned. Not only had Michael imprinted his guidance and intelligence, Nikita had brought her heart and empathy to the organization. The means were no longer ruthless, innocents were spared and happiness, whatever that meant, reigned at the Samuelle household and place of ‘business.'

The children’s personalities were opposite to their looks. Robert was serene, quiet and intense like his father. Simone was just like Nikita; Walter called her “a fire cracker."

Walter was now retired to the farm with Belinda by his side. He did come in to Munitions weekly to supervise and to visit with Birkoff, now married to a cute Op named Carla, Nikita’s friend, that worked at Center. Birkoff was the big cheese in Com.

The farm was just that, a beautiful horse farm in the edge of Paris were the children spent their days. It was also the school for other Ops’ children. The only rule was that no relationships outside of Section was permitted, there were plenty of men and women available at Center, Oversight and other Sections to fall in love with, no outsiders allowed. After all this was still the most covert antiterrorist group in the planet.

Michael and Nikita had their home in a beautiful exclusive neighborhood in Paris. Their parents still lived at their magnificent home next to Center/Oversight. As well as his sister, Stephen and their two boys, Adam and Jeff, she was pregnant with a little girl they would name Adrian. Paul and Madelyn had married and lived close to Center. He was enjoying his grand kids; she was taking care of her mother. Nikita had become like a daughter to them. They still ran their Bureau in Center, efficiently as ever.

Michael would stay at the “office” whether Section, Center or Oversight, longer than Nikita. She usually came home two or three hours before him to start dinner (they liked to do the cooking), pick up the kids from the Farm and do “housewify stuff." He had allowed the Ops that worked at the Farm to wear periwinkle and chartreuse if they wanted, but not those at the Sections/Center or Oversight.

She had promised she would stop calling him Mr. Jones in the throngs of passion.

Jurgen’s car was long gone.

They had their problems as all couples do. “We all remember normal,” Walter had once said; well this was normal at its best. Life was good. Michael was making good in his promise and giving Nikita everything that she had missed before, trust and love leading the way.

~*~*~*

BOOX IX

AND THEY LIVED HAPPILY EVER AFTER

Little Robert, named after Nikita’s long dead mother Roberta Wirth, came running into the house, he was soaking wet, covered with mud, and shrieking, Michael imitating a mummy followed behind. The Samuelle men had been planting a tree, a ritual that was done every year on ‘Arbor Day’ (or whenever they could find the time to celebrate Arbor Day), little traditions that Nikita treasured and for which she thanked him. Michael arms extended, followed close behind, just as wet, no mud.

His jeans wet and clinging to his powerful thighs still sent shudders of pleasure through Nikita. “Michael, what happened?” She asked as she was, for the fifth time this morning, fixing her daughter’s hair into braids with beautiful ribbons through them to match her fuzzy, cute little girly outfit, all covered with lace and frills.

“Your son wet me with the hose, and then rolled in the mud. Hi cutie, want to roll around in mud?” He told his daughter as he pretended to grab her. The little girl shrieked, and ran away from her daddy screaming, “No papa, Non s’il vous plait. Grandpa and Ops are coming to pick us up soon.”

Michael shrugged his shirt off and starting to take of his wet jeans grabbed Nikita and said “Aren’t you glad that the staff is gone for the weekend?” He kissed her ear while rubbing his hard dick through his wet jeans. “Won’t you be even happier when the no clothes rule takes effect as soon as we get rid of the munchkins?”

“Sinful man” she whispered, “want to play Mr. Jones and Covert Op?”

“Oh, a new version of an old favorite,” he answered, laughing and dragging her upstairs. As they picked up wet little clothes strewn all over the house.

“Jozzefeen," he whispered in an exaggerated accent, as he held her close and they walked in unison.

“Soon my God.” She moved her behind against him sending chards of delight through Michael’s being.

Michael quickly finished disrobing in his son’s bathroom, while the child was streaking into the shower stall. “Arête Robber," Michael said, and picked up the squirming youngster. He finished taking off his pants and stood in the shower holding the child. The water was the perfect temperature and hit Michael’s body before he turned Robert unto the stream. Nikita watched, she loved to see her two men bonding, as she waited to take the clean child into her arms, wrap him in a towel, dry and dress him.

“I hate the crappy water pressure in this bathroom," Robert said in perfect Mandarin Chinese, it had been Mandarin Chinese week at the Samuelle’s.

Michael stuck his head out of the shower and said “Ni-ki-ta” in an accusatory fashion. Let’s face it, this was definitely something the child had heard coming out of his mother’s mouth. But as if by divine intervention their little girl interrupted.

“May I mom, may I?” She had changed her pristine white little frilly dress for Nikita duds as Michael called them. Dark glasses, short bright fuchsia skort, stretchy flowered blouse and strappie leather sandals in the wildest shade of green Michael had ever seen. A floppy hat with flowers to match her blouse topped all this, gone were the ribbons and braids her mother had worked so hard to perfect.

Nikita smiled at Michael who reached for her outstretched hand holding a huge towel and wrapped his waist in it. He was touched by the moment; she wanted normal, he thought, well here it is.

“May you what?” Nikita asked her daughter, back to the Mandarin that needed perfecting.

“May I see if you do taste sweet? Please” Now Robert had joined his sister asking the question.

“Where do you come up with this stuff children?” she innocently asked.

“Maman, when daddy licks your tongue with his, he told us it was because you are so sweet. And to prove it he reminded us that Uncle Walter calls you his sugar.” The little girl stated matter of factly.

Nikita looked stunned at her husband who was combing his hair, while his son now imitated him. Michael was amused and said “They asked me the other night why I kissed you like I did, using my tongue, and I had to tell them the truth.”

Both of the children in unison licked their mother’s hand. And both of them in unison said “Yuck." Simone added “Daddy there must be something wrong with your taste buds, mommy tastes like soap and perfume.”

He, serious as a heart attack said, “Come here Ni-ki-ta, let me taste.” And kissed her on the lips, no tongue this time.

“Mmm sucre, I better go to the Doctor Simone, she tastes like confectionary sugar to me.” Mr. Jones responded.

Then the phone from the gate rang. The Ops that had the assignment told Michael that his guests were there. At the same time his cell phone rang, it was in the pants of his wet jeans on the floor of the bathroom. He answered and heard “Hello Jacques, there is an anomaly in the Treblinka Mission.” Michael’s Section mask came into play and Nikita ushered the children down the stairs to receive her in-laws and the Wolfs.

Michael was giving orders and dressing in a pair of black jeans and a black t-shirt. Some things never changed. He was putting on his new signature Galiano jacket, made of the softest leather, and grabbed his motorcycle helmet, of course no underwear.

When Nikita arrived at the bottom of the stairs Simone and Robert had managed to open the door and let in their grandfathers. Both men were kissing a child, while Rhine and Stephen’s children ran back out with their cousins excited at the prospect of their outing.

The women, Madelyn and Adrian, after kissing the children were telling Nikita of the awful mess on the side yard, and Nikita was recounting the tree planting incident.

Michael appeared at the top of the stairs and closed his phone. His hair wet, wetting the back of his shirt, a day’s worth of growth on his beard, buttoning the waistband of his jeans; he looked mighty fine Nikita thought. He looked at this wife who still took his breath away, no matter what was going on in his life. “I have to go in," he announced. “Treblinka went hot.”

Nikita who was wearing a baby blue eyelet dress, off the shoulders and showing her tan and her very narrow waist, said “Give me a moment, I’ll change.”

Michael nodded and said to those gathered. “So were are you going.”

“First to the movies," George answered, ”the new Disney movie opens today, so we are going to Euro Disney to the Première, we may stay there, if we do, we’ll call you. If not we’ll bring them back any way on Tuesday morning.” The conversation went on.

Nikita was now next to Michael, clad in black leather pants, leather scarf top and jacket. She also carried her helmet. “But girls," she winked “today that Roy Dupuis movie opens, the one that made $300,000,000 in its month long run in the US. He is hot.” Nikita stated.

Michael said, “I hear he is a great actor.”

Adrian and Madelyn laughed, very out of character. Nikita added sarcastically, “Oh, he can act also? I thought he just looked good.”

Everyone laughed except Simone. When Nikita picked her up to tell her she loved her and to behave, Michael heard the little girl say, “Mommy, I thought you told me daddy was a hot hunk. The only one for you.” Her voice showed concern.

“Honey Roy is a movie star, we know and love daddy, we admire and covet Roy.”

Michael took his little girl in his arms, kissed her and she said, “Don’t worry daddy, when I grow up I’ll marry you and mommy can marry this Roy actor.”

Michael smiled. “I love you,” he told his daughter and then his wife.

Michael ‘Mr. Jones’ Samuelle, Sections/Center/Oversight Leader and all around Super Spy rested his head on the back of the sleeping blonde’s form. Their walk back from van access had been comforting; somehow the Treblianka mission had been a success, 100% containment, none injured, all anomalies corrected. Another terrorist act thwarted by his men and women; what many thought difficult our boy still saw as doable. Someday soon perhaps there would be no more terrorism in the world, but for now some things never changed.

In their close quarters Michael was finishing some paperwork, and Nikita had drifted off to sleep. His quarters were comfortable and seldom used. He didn’t like to spend too much time away from his wife and kids, but especially his wife. Since they had married, Michael and Nikita had spent a total of 5 days away from each other. Even when she was delivering their babies, he had been there the whole time.

He smiled and thought this was how he and the certain blonde laying before him, worked; always doing the job well and ruling by example. He started to drift off to sleep, but his subconscious was always aware, “Kita” he said, “let’s go home.” Her greatest gift to him, even if she didn’t know it, was loving him like she did, unconditionally and with great respect and admiration. The glorious dreams were always there, they had started the day he met her in the white room, they would end, when they no longer could breath.

Holding hands they left Section walking in companionable silence. Michael’s new Italian motorcycle had been ridiculously expensive, but Michael had convinced Nikita by putting this adorable face on and saying, “Please.”

“Normal," Michael said to himself, as he remembered Nikita’s retort. “Expensive undertakings take more begging that this Michael. It is my understanding that groveling is a large part of this process.” She had joked.

He had put his index finger next to his thumb showing her a small spance of space whispering, “Just a little bit.’’ That had been enough.

“Normal," Michael repeated. They got on the bike and rode off. Nikita’s legs resting on her husband’s thighs, her crotch nestled on his ass, he continuously patted her legs and rested his back to her chest. They made the 45-minute trip in total contentment, never losing touch of each other. She loved the wind in her hair; he just plain loved her hair.

Michael left her at the door and moved to put the bike away in the garage. His black Mercedes sedan in contrast to Nikita’s Mercedes Minivan was parked side by side in the meticulously orderly garage. Michael touched her car and remembered the purchase of the automobiles two months before, “Please Michael, just not black," so they had settled for navy. Compromise was an art they happily practiced.

-*-

When Michael entered the house he found Nikita sitting on the third step of their staircase, she had changed and was now wearing her long blonde hair in pigtails. Her face had been scrubbed clean and she wore no make up other than lip-gloss. She was wearing her Catholic girl school uniform, Michael swooned, and she smiled and crossed her legs.

The white shirt with the Peter Pan collar, tight against her breasts let the dark shadow of her nipples show through, no bra, the buttons straining to pop open. The short brown ‘Scottish checked’ skirt rode up allowing the lacy top of the opaque stockings to show, the garter belt peeking its naughty head through.

The panties were white, innocent and lacey. With her penny loafers, she walked over to her husband, who just stood there looking at his wife.

“You didn’t take off your mission pants my darling. You know what they do to me and every other Operative, male and female, that has the privilege to see you in them.” She said slowly walking the sexiest of walks.

“No other man better see you in that get up, my sweet. I would hate to go back to the reign of terror that existed in Section, just because of a Catholic girl school uniform.”

He was telling her this within centimeters from her. His hands came quickly up and next thing Nikita knew she was laying on her back, Michael on top of her.

One hand now holding her hands above her head, the other hand slowly, purposely undoing her little pearl buttons. His hips moving, grinding against her, mission pants holding nothing to the imagination.

His accent, as every time he was aroused, as thick as his dick. “That first day in the White Room, I wanted to do this to you. I don’t know what comes over me when you are near me. If you were the enemy…” Michael repeated words from long before; “you have dedicated your life to making me desperate, to never being satisfied.”

She batted her eyes and smugly said, “What do you ever mean my lord and master.” This conversation had been conducted between kisses, groaps and groans.

He let out a long happy breadth. “Remember this morning, well what have you got to say for yourself.” Michael had been sleeping, as always on his back, soundly it was 5:30 am on a Saturday for heavens’ sake. She had awoken and being wrapped around her husband had noticed he was deeply into REM, his eyes darting back and forth under his lids. She had read somewhere about a week before that at this time, if stimulated, a man can have the most incredible climax.

“This is what wet dreams are made off,” she remembered thinking. So she had moved down Michael’s body to start holding her experiment. Michael and Nikita never wore pajamas; he called this the “No clothes zone.” There was quite a problem with the munchkins coming into bed with them, but rules were rules.

Nikita took advantage, as she had many times, of his clothless state. She smirked, and softly grabbed Michael’s member, which was ‘at rest.' With her face resting on his leg she started pumping him with great pressure, watching intently the process. She was glad she worked out.

As the foreskin in Michael’s dick was pushed down, Nikita would put her very wet mouth around the tip. In seconds Michael was hard, but still asleep. With her ministrations Michael’s head was moving back and forth and Nikita’s hand and mouth were moving up and down.

Finally Michael came with an intensity that surprised Nikita. He continued sleeping. At 7:30 when they finally awoke, Michael told her about the incredible wet dream he had, and Nikita told him what she had done.

“I’m sorry, I’ll never do it again.” She now said.

“And I my dear will have you cancelled.” He retorted.

~*~*~*

BOOK X

TRY REAL HARD

NC-21

At this point Michael picked up Nikita and carried her to their den; here he started kissing his wife. His tongue being used in the most astonishing way. He was kissing her lips, her eyes, her ears, her neck, and her chin. In an incredibly organized manner Michael was literally covering every inch of her face with kisses.

“I love to kiss you." He said, she moaned. He turned her on her stomach; his hips never stopped grinding against her extremely sensitive ass. Her skirt was around her neck, her panties in the pocket of his mission pants.

Michael now moved down to her clit and laying between her opened legs, and moving her knees to their respective sides to give himself more access he started kissing, sucking, and licking her clit. Sucking it completely into his mouth while she whimpered in total abandon, she held his head with both her hands and he grabbed them and held them above her head… “Don’t,” he said, “I want you desperate.” He fingered fucked her, sticking a third finger into her tight little ass. She gasped with pleasure, and whimpered “Please.”

He couldn’t answer; he was beyond conscious thought, and all she could do was feel. Nikita was making incoherent sounds; he gave her orders. “Look at me” “Relax” “Stick out your tongue” “Open your legs” “Come now” “Come my sweet” “Come again.”

They moved to the indoor spa, which he had fired up when they first came in. He was so hard, he was sure if he even brushed against his dick he would come like a Catholic schoolboy. But he had to take off his tight sinful mission pants.

She watched him intently as he was trying to divest himself of this clothing. She was already naked and in the spa, thanks to his gifted hands. “Michael may I.”

He interrupted, “don’t even look at me or I will climax.”

She just said, in a husky voice, “Then enter me now please and come.” She was whining, “Michael we have all night, please, to quote Elvis, don’t be cruel.”

Michael naked now walked into the spa, and grabbed his wife. “You don’t have to beg Ni-ki-ta," he said, he kissed her and sat her on his hard, hard cock. His finger manipulating her clit, he pumped up and down a dozen times while kissing her, sucked and bit her breasts, her nipples so sensitized that Nikita was almost in pain. Michael held her by her hips, her legs wrapped around his waist.

“Michael, can I be in charge next.”

He laughed out loud “Merde Kita I am coming.” And he came, when he finished pouring his cum into her she tried to move, and he said “Nooooon," just that tiny movement had made him pour out more cum.

She smiled and said. “Let’s go take a shower."

“Now?”

“Yes Michael now, I have been reading…”

“Goodie," he mocked, “the same book were you read about that magical experiment you conducted this morning?” He was carrying her still impelled in him to the shower in the cabana by the pool it was the closest one.

Nikita started washing Michael with the liquid soap, she had put on a rough mitten and was rubbing Michael’s arms, legs, stomach, and chest. He was enjoying this extremely erotic exercise. He was standing in the middle of the shower stall, arms akimbo, breathing shallowly, eyes watching her, his mouth opened, his tongue swirling around his teeth and gums.

“Kita, let me…” he said.

“No, my turn," she replied, sternly.

She then turned him and asked him to place his hands flat on the cold marble walls. He obeyed, if the terrorists of the world could see the Angel of Death now. She washed his back and then unexpectedly hit, softly, the back of his knees making Michael’s leg buckle. “Obey dammit," she said, and he did.

Nikita now filled her fingers with the slippery soap and softly, driving her tongue into his ear, grabbing a hold of his dick with one hand, she slip first one finger, then the second, then the third, into his asshole. Michael gasped and in a sob said “Kita."

She dropped to her knees and started sucking his dick while pumping his ass, which was now slippery and clean, and then she put her tongue into his ass and licked him while fondling his balls. “Michael I love you.” His legs giving way, he made an effort to remain standing. She was worshiping him; he was in wonder of this woman.

He was about to come and he told her “Kita I can’t…”

She asked him “I want you to come in my ass, please Michael.”

He quickly moved away from the wall, placed her hands were his had been and started the same ministrations she had given him. She was also breathing shallowly and thought her heart could stop. He then repeated her moves, fell to his knees and slowly, inserted one, two, three, very wet, slippery fingers in her ass, and sucked on her clit.

Nikita felt pain, but a pain that felt so good she thought she would die if he stopped. Michael moved her out of the stall, leaving the steamy water running and bent Nikita at the waist, hands resting on the counter. He sladdered cream on his dick with one hand, and with the other put tons of the same cream in Nikita’s asshole.

He started fucking her from behind and rubbing and twicking her clit; with his other hand he was finger fucking her by sticking his three fingers in her asshole. He then asked her quietly for permission, she nodded her head, hardly conscious of what she was doing. All the while they watched each other in the mirror, two beautiful creatures wild and free.

And then Michael’s hard slippery dick entered her asshole. She let out a scream. Pain, pleasurable pain, shooting around her. He who was also beyond control somehow managed to again ask for consent, she said “Stop and I’ll kill you."

His hands never leaving her clit, even though he was so aware of every inch of his body in contact with hers. She screamed “Harder, harder." He pumped into her and she said “Oh God Michael.” Her entire being exploding over and over and over. He pumped four times more and screamed “Merde, Merde, Mon Dieu Kita, Merde.” He came into his wife as she came into his hand.

After a while he told her, still inside her “Thank you Kita, you are a goddess.”

Nikita turned, disengaged herself from him and said, “I aim to please.”

He didn’t know how, he carried her upstairs to their bedroom, on wobbly legs. Cleaned her with a wet cloth and then cleaned himself. Kissed her on the mouth for a long time, a wet kiss that was hard to stop and he laid completely intertwined with his beautiful wife.

Michael said to Nikita before falling asleep. “Have I ever told you that I love you?”

“Actually no” she answered smiling.

“I do.” He repeated words he had spoken long before. “Forever.”

~*~*~*

EPILOGUE

AND THEY LIVED HAPPILY EVER AFTER

Nikita woke up, the bed empty; she shot up and hollered, “Michael." She was afraid, and felt a sense of déjà vu. She was discombobulated, it was late and she had overslept. She stretched “normal," she thought.

Michael was just walking into the room carrying a tray with coffee, tea, croissants and orange juice. He also carried the Sunday papers from 5 or 6 different countries. He smiled and approached her “Good Morning” he said a not so rare smile on his handsomely beautiful face. “Let’s eat.”

He took the tray to the table on their balcony overlooking the yard. She walked over to where her husband stood, both wearing matching black silk robes, he handed her a glass of orange juice and said “Voila.” And then he handed her a gift, for no reason at all, a memento of their lives together, a Sterling Silver picture frame.

She looked at the photograph; a picture of them leaving their church wedding, in a minivan tears of joy welled up in her eyes. She kissed him, he said ‘I love you’ and there in the yard with the white picket fence, “Grey” their cocker spaniel ran around the peony tree their children had planted. ‘Why not’ she thought, ‘why not indeed.'

And as it was now the way, Michael, holding his wife tightly from behind, not an iota of space between their warm, hard bodies, said, “I love you Jozzssefeeen”

The End