Covert Operative Honoree
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Covert Operative - Honoree free porn video
Kelvin Watson sat in the front row of chairs arranged in one of the conference rooms
at Langley. There were just under forty company employees present at the private
C.I.A. ceremony. The deputy director of the National Clandestine Service stood and
walked to the podium. The Caucasian, middle-aged man began, "Two weeks ago, one of
our own assisted the United States Army Special forces, or Green Berets as manay of
us know them, in a mission to rescue three American hostages from Syria.The
assignment was dangerous and the gunfire was unrelenting. Due to our esteemed
colleague, the hostages were rescused and all of the Green Berets made it home
safely. In light of this accomplishment, it is my sincere honor to award Kelvin
Watson with the Hostile Action Service Medal."
Everyone clapped. Kelvin walked up to the front to accept the award.
The NCS chief then said, "Of course, this medal will be locked away in our vault and
Kelvin's name will never be known outside of this room. But, all the same, we still
give him all of our gratitude."
Kelvin smiled. He shook hands with the other intelligence workers. He was pulled away
by a member of the human resources team. He was given a letter detailing the fifteen
thousand dollar bonus that came along with his award. Upon his signature a direct
deposit into his account would be made the same day. Kelvin signed without
hesitation. Of course, it contained the standard non-disclosure statment. The five-
foot-six-inch, caramel-skinned, spy made it back to the conference room to knosh on
finger sandwiches and tapas with the other spooks.
After speaking with his direct boss, Rita Kennedy, Kelvin spotted U.S. Army Captain
Travers Sutton.
CPT Sutton was a twenty-eight year-old, detachment commander of the hostage rescue
unit with which Kelvin had worked in Syria. The white man had grown up in rural
Indiana and attended Ball State University on an ROTC scholarship. He stood at six-
foot-one and weighed a cool one-hundred-eighty-seven pounds. Growing up loving Notre
Dame football, hunting, and America, he was a natural fit for the Army. His dream
since c***dhood had been to be a Green Beret. His dad was a drunkard and his mom was
timid. He was the oldest of three and drew from within the strength to excel. He
played baseball, football, and basketball in high school - lettering in all three.
The guy who had grown up in a veritable country shack was accepted by the high-
falutin town folk. He made his way to college despite every odd that may have been
against him at birth. Not only that, but he also ensured his younger brother and
sister were able to get to college as well. His sister, the middle c***d, was now a
registered nurse in Evansville. His brother had just finished up at Ball State and
was now a First Lieutenant in the Army working in the transportation corps.
CPT Sutton was also married to a hot blonde and had two young daughters.
Kelvin smiled and extended his hand.
"Good to see you again, Hampton," the captain said referring to Kelvin's code name.
"Likewise, sir," the honoree returned.
"I can't say how much having you on the mission helped us."
"Thank you! Think nothing of it. I was just doing my job!"
"And a great one at that."
"You're too kind."
"I don't think many folks ever told me that," the shaved-headed, blue-eyed man
retorted.
"Well, then they're either blind or dumb or both," giggled Hampton. "I thought you'd
be back at Fort Carson."
"I was. But, when I got word you were being awarded, I put in a request to travel out
here."
"Thank you!"
"Do you have to work for the rest of the day?"
"No, I have it off."
"Any good bars around here. I owe you a drink for saving my life."
"Yeah. I know a good one. Follow me."
They got in the elevator. Hampton had an idea.
The shorter man spoke, "Hey, I don't wanna drink and drive. There's a liquor store
near my place. We could stop there and you can pick up the beverage. Then we can go
to my house. How about that?"
"Sure, li'l buddy," Travers replied with a grin.
"Excellent," replied Hampton. "Are you parked in the visitors' section?"
"Yep. White Ford Taurus."
"Cool. I'll pull around. I'll be in a black Toyota Corolla."
"Alright."
The elevator doors opened. The pair of covert operatives walked out and exited the
headquarters of the world's foremost spy agency. They parted ways.
A few minutes later, Hampton pulled around and searched for the rental car. He found
it and flashed his lights. He pulled forward and waited for CPT Sutton to back out.
They drove out of the compound and pulled onto the freeway. Hampton led them down to
Alexandria. He took an exit and made a couple of turns. They ended up a liquor store.
The athletic, white man got out of his vehicle and went inside. He remembered from
their mission, that Hampton liked to drink gin. He, being a veritable midwestern
white dude, picked up a case of Miller High Life. He also grabbed a bottle of orange
juice as he wasn't sure if Hampton liked mixers, or even if he had any at home. He
paid in cash. He hopped back in the car and drove behind the slightly older Black
spy.
Hampton pulled into his apartment complex and entered the code.
Travers walked behind Hampton to his unit. Inside, it was nice and chill. Hampton had
his entire place wired. He had set the lights to dim, the air conditioner was on a
nice 69-degrees, the TV was tuned into an episode of 'House of Cards', and his
fragrance misters had released vanilla scent two minutes before their entry.
"You left all this on," inquired Travers.
Hampton studied the man's face and said, "No. I control all of this through an app."
"Nice! I work for the wrong part of the government," the captain confessed.
"You work for the best. You're in the military. I have mad respect for you all!"
"Nice," blushed the handsome white man.
"What did you get?"
"Beer for me. Gin and juice for you!"
"Let's get this refrigerated. And thank you! How did you know my drink of choice?"
"We talked about it that night on the mission," Travers reminded his host.
"We sure did," exclaimed Hampton.
CPT Sutton grabbed a beer. Hampton to the rest to the fridge.
The Central Intelligence worker came back to the living room with a glass of the orange juice. He also carried a small cooler full of ice with four cans of the Miller High Life in it.
They clinked their drinks and turned them up. There were only a few constants in the lives of those individuals involved in the secret world of black ops - heightened sesnes of awareness, a strong desire for justice, and hard drinking.
After three beers, Travers switched to whiskey. Hampton kept a well-stocked personal bar.
Hampton stuck with his gin.
Travers inquired, "Where did you grow up?"
"St. Louis," answered Hampton.
"Nice!"
"Yeah! You ever fuck a bitch from STL?"
"Actually I did. Hot Black girl! She had good pussy."
"I bet! I didn't know you like chocolate."
"Shit yeah, li'l buddy! I love big booties."
"Is that so."
"Yep. My wife is white, but she's a PAWG."
"Interesting!"
"Dog likes bone. Man likes meat."
"I hear you," Hampton said standing.
The twink of an effeminate man refreshed their glasses. He pressed, "When was the llast time you fucked a Black woman?"
"It's been about a year ago."
"Very cool," Hampton shared as he switched the TV to a video of a big dick white pawn shop owner fucking a hot Black woman.
"Damn, li'l buddy. You're making my cock hard."
"Oh yeah?"
"Hell yes! I'm tipsy. I'm horny. I need to fuck."
Hampton ran out of the living room. He returned a few minutes later. He was now wearing a shimmering pink Playboy bunny costume with matching bunny ears, black thigh-high fishnet stockings and silver stilettos.
"Whoa, li'l buddy," Travers gasped.
"You don't like it," Hampton turned around showing off the attached fluffy white bunny tail and shaking his bubble booty.
"Of course I like it! Bring that ass to Daddy!"
Hampton scurried over to Travers.
The Green Beret officer scooped up his host. He carried the sissy into the bedroom. He tossed Hampton on the bed. He stripped out of his Class B Army Service Uniform. He hopped on the bed and stuck his forefinger in Hampton's tight booty hole.
"Have you ever fucked a femboi," Hampton quizzed.
"No, li'l buddy! But I've been wanting to fuck you," yelled Travers.
"Why?"
"You're a girly bitch with a nice butt. Suck my cock!"
Hampton gave the best blow job the Captain had ever received.
Travers grabbed his slut, flipped him over, and stuck his seven-and-a-half-inch beer-can dick inside Hampton's brown pussy hole. Hampton winced.
"Take this big white cock, you Black bitch," screamed Travers.
"Yes sir," Hampton cried.
They fucked hard for the next six minutes until the Army officer nutted hard.
They fell asleep.
When they awoke, the officer enjoyed another round of fellatio from Hampton before leaving.
Hampton cleaned up his apartment.
His work phone rang. He answered, "Hello?"
"Hampton, this is Rita. I have the D.C.I. on the line as well," spoke the soft
deliberate voice. "we need you to get ready to travel to the Republican National
Convention. In the interest of the Republic, we need to exterminate Governor John Lynch. His incendiary remarks are rousing the voters too much."
The Director said, " We need this to be swift and without notice,"
Rita continued, "You will be set up as a consultant for a super PAC."
Hampton rushed to Dulles Airport.
at Langley. There were just under forty company employees present at the private
C.I.A. ceremony. The deputy director of the National Clandestine Service stood and
walked to the podium. The Caucasian, middle-aged man began, "Two weeks ago, one of
our own assisted the United States Army Special forces, or Green Berets as manay of
us know them, in a mission to rescue three American hostages from Syria.The
assignment was dangerous and the gunfire was unrelenting. Due to our esteemed
colleague, the hostages were rescused and all of the Green Berets made it home
safely. In light of this accomplishment, it is my sincere honor to award Kelvin
Watson with the Hostile Action Service Medal."
Everyone clapped. Kelvin walked up to the front to accept the award.
The NCS chief then said, "Of course, this medal will be locked away in our vault and
Kelvin's name will never be known outside of this room. But, all the same, we still
give him all of our gratitude."
Kelvin smiled. He shook hands with the other intelligence workers. He was pulled away
by a member of the human resources team. He was given a letter detailing the fifteen
thousand dollar bonus that came along with his award. Upon his signature a direct
deposit into his account would be made the same day. Kelvin signed without
hesitation. Of course, it contained the standard non-disclosure statment. The five-
foot-six-inch, caramel-skinned, spy made it back to the conference room to knosh on
finger sandwiches and tapas with the other spooks.
After speaking with his direct boss, Rita Kennedy, Kelvin spotted U.S. Army Captain
Travers Sutton.
CPT Sutton was a twenty-eight year-old, detachment commander of the hostage rescue
unit with which Kelvin had worked in Syria. The white man had grown up in rural
Indiana and attended Ball State University on an ROTC scholarship. He stood at six-
foot-one and weighed a cool one-hundred-eighty-seven pounds. Growing up loving Notre
Dame football, hunting, and America, he was a natural fit for the Army. His dream
since c***dhood had been to be a Green Beret. His dad was a drunkard and his mom was
timid. He was the oldest of three and drew from within the strength to excel. He
played baseball, football, and basketball in high school - lettering in all three.
The guy who had grown up in a veritable country shack was accepted by the high-
falutin town folk. He made his way to college despite every odd that may have been
against him at birth. Not only that, but he also ensured his younger brother and
sister were able to get to college as well. His sister, the middle c***d, was now a
registered nurse in Evansville. His brother had just finished up at Ball State and
was now a First Lieutenant in the Army working in the transportation corps.
CPT Sutton was also married to a hot blonde and had two young daughters.
Kelvin smiled and extended his hand.
"Good to see you again, Hampton," the captain said referring to Kelvin's code name.
"Likewise, sir," the honoree returned.
"I can't say how much having you on the mission helped us."
"Thank you! Think nothing of it. I was just doing my job!"
"And a great one at that."
"You're too kind."
"I don't think many folks ever told me that," the shaved-headed, blue-eyed man
retorted.
"Well, then they're either blind or dumb or both," giggled Hampton. "I thought you'd
be back at Fort Carson."
"I was. But, when I got word you were being awarded, I put in a request to travel out
here."
"Thank you!"
"Do you have to work for the rest of the day?"
"No, I have it off."
"Any good bars around here. I owe you a drink for saving my life."
"Yeah. I know a good one. Follow me."
They got in the elevator. Hampton had an idea.
The shorter man spoke, "Hey, I don't wanna drink and drive. There's a liquor store
near my place. We could stop there and you can pick up the beverage. Then we can go
to my house. How about that?"
"Sure, li'l buddy," Travers replied with a grin.
"Excellent," replied Hampton. "Are you parked in the visitors' section?"
"Yep. White Ford Taurus."
"Cool. I'll pull around. I'll be in a black Toyota Corolla."
"Alright."
The elevator doors opened. The pair of covert operatives walked out and exited the
headquarters of the world's foremost spy agency. They parted ways.
A few minutes later, Hampton pulled around and searched for the rental car. He found
it and flashed his lights. He pulled forward and waited for CPT Sutton to back out.
They drove out of the compound and pulled onto the freeway. Hampton led them down to
Alexandria. He took an exit and made a couple of turns. They ended up a liquor store.
The athletic, white man got out of his vehicle and went inside. He remembered from
their mission, that Hampton liked to drink gin. He, being a veritable midwestern
white dude, picked up a case of Miller High Life. He also grabbed a bottle of orange
juice as he wasn't sure if Hampton liked mixers, or even if he had any at home. He
paid in cash. He hopped back in the car and drove behind the slightly older Black
spy.
Hampton pulled into his apartment complex and entered the code.
Travers walked behind Hampton to his unit. Inside, it was nice and chill. Hampton had
his entire place wired. He had set the lights to dim, the air conditioner was on a
nice 69-degrees, the TV was tuned into an episode of 'House of Cards', and his
fragrance misters had released vanilla scent two minutes before their entry.
"You left all this on," inquired Travers.
Hampton studied the man's face and said, "No. I control all of this through an app."
"Nice! I work for the wrong part of the government," the captain confessed.
"You work for the best. You're in the military. I have mad respect for you all!"
"Nice," blushed the handsome white man.
"What did you get?"
"Beer for me. Gin and juice for you!"
"Let's get this refrigerated. And thank you! How did you know my drink of choice?"
"We talked about it that night on the mission," Travers reminded his host.
"We sure did," exclaimed Hampton.
CPT Sutton grabbed a beer. Hampton to the rest to the fridge.
The Central Intelligence worker came back to the living room with a glass of the orange juice. He also carried a small cooler full of ice with four cans of the Miller High Life in it.
They clinked their drinks and turned them up. There were only a few constants in the lives of those individuals involved in the secret world of black ops - heightened sesnes of awareness, a strong desire for justice, and hard drinking.
After three beers, Travers switched to whiskey. Hampton kept a well-stocked personal bar.
Hampton stuck with his gin.
Travers inquired, "Where did you grow up?"
"St. Louis," answered Hampton.
"Nice!"
"Yeah! You ever fuck a bitch from STL?"
"Actually I did. Hot Black girl! She had good pussy."
"I bet! I didn't know you like chocolate."
"Shit yeah, li'l buddy! I love big booties."
"Is that so."
"Yep. My wife is white, but she's a PAWG."
"Interesting!"
"Dog likes bone. Man likes meat."
"I hear you," Hampton said standing.
The twink of an effeminate man refreshed their glasses. He pressed, "When was the llast time you fucked a Black woman?"
"It's been about a year ago."
"Very cool," Hampton shared as he switched the TV to a video of a big dick white pawn shop owner fucking a hot Black woman.
"Damn, li'l buddy. You're making my cock hard."
"Oh yeah?"
"Hell yes! I'm tipsy. I'm horny. I need to fuck."
Hampton ran out of the living room. He returned a few minutes later. He was now wearing a shimmering pink Playboy bunny costume with matching bunny ears, black thigh-high fishnet stockings and silver stilettos.
"Whoa, li'l buddy," Travers gasped.
"You don't like it," Hampton turned around showing off the attached fluffy white bunny tail and shaking his bubble booty.
"Of course I like it! Bring that ass to Daddy!"
Hampton scurried over to Travers.
The Green Beret officer scooped up his host. He carried the sissy into the bedroom. He tossed Hampton on the bed. He stripped out of his Class B Army Service Uniform. He hopped on the bed and stuck his forefinger in Hampton's tight booty hole.
"Have you ever fucked a femboi," Hampton quizzed.
"No, li'l buddy! But I've been wanting to fuck you," yelled Travers.
"Why?"
"You're a girly bitch with a nice butt. Suck my cock!"
Hampton gave the best blow job the Captain had ever received.
Travers grabbed his slut, flipped him over, and stuck his seven-and-a-half-inch beer-can dick inside Hampton's brown pussy hole. Hampton winced.
"Take this big white cock, you Black bitch," screamed Travers.
"Yes sir," Hampton cried.
They fucked hard for the next six minutes until the Army officer nutted hard.
They fell asleep.
When they awoke, the officer enjoyed another round of fellatio from Hampton before leaving.
Hampton cleaned up his apartment.
His work phone rang. He answered, "Hello?"
"Hampton, this is Rita. I have the D.C.I. on the line as well," spoke the soft
deliberate voice. "we need you to get ready to travel to the Republican National
Convention. In the interest of the Republic, we need to exterminate Governor John Lynch. His incendiary remarks are rousing the voters too much."
The Director said, " We need this to be swift and without notice,"
Rita continued, "You will be set up as a consultant for a super PAC."
Hampton rushed to Dulles Airport.
Uma
- 25.03.2022
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