Tim Goes Undercover
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An Angie Story - #4 Angie Goes Undercover free porn video
Deputy Sergeant Applegate pursed her full lips. She had to make a decision. Angie had been promoted to deputy sergeant from the outstanding work she had done while on temporary duty. She had been offered sergeant after successful completion of a voluntary undercover assignment. The job would require temporary duty with the vice squad in Los Angeles. It wasn't something she had been trained to do, but Lieutenant Frost told her that she was a natural. Angie was to report to the vice squad division of the L.A.P.D. She had been advised to report in her normal uniform, two inch heels, silk stockings and no bra. She had decided to wear black thong panties just to make a good impression.
Angie strode into the L.A.P.D. headquarters building with confidence. This confidence made her feel that she was ready for anything. It also made her big boobs bounce wildly. She strutted up to the desk sergeant and smiled at him. The uniformed police sergeant couldn't keep his eyes off of her tantalizing tit flesh and choked on his donut. He might have died had not a passing prostitute come to his aid with the 'Breath of Life'. Angie was watching her technique, about to offer some helpful suggestions.
She was approached by a thin, white dude wearing jeans and a 'Kiss' T-shirt. "You Applegate? Follow me." He led her to a door and opened it so she could enter. Angie noticed that the printed "Vice" on the door was almost faded out. Some joker had painted a picture of a vice squeezing a hooker below it. Angie was ushered past a gaggle of prostitutes loudly proclaiming their innocence.
The thin man introduced Angie to the men that were sitting at a table drinking coffee. "Angie this is Theodore Bear", an older looking plump man with a bow tie; "Skiff on loan from the Narcs", a small nervous looking man that looked like he was about to jump out of his own skin; "Sonny Barker", a tall black man who looked out of his permanently silted eyes. Then there is "California", who is new to Vice, a blonde surfer looking dude; "Cotton, another plant for Narcs", a short black man with a scruffy patch of curly hair and a cheap cigar clamped between his teeth. "Boys, this is Angie, our latest undercover volunteer. My name is Carl, by the way." Some nodded and the greetings of 'Welcome aboard', 'She'll do' and 'No bra, get used to it honey' were heard. The only one who met her gaze and held out his hand was 'California'. As soon as their hands had met, Carl bustled her off saying, "Gotta see the L.T. No time to dawdle."
Carl knocked on a door that was ajar and led Angie in, without waiting for a reply. He sat her down in a chair and left the small office pulling the door shut behind him. A man was sitting at the desk reading a report that he held in front of his face. After a couple of uncomfortable minutes, Angie heard a sigh and saw the man put the report down on his desk. The man was a tired looking, middle aged Hispanic with graying dark hair and very large hands. The knuckles on his hands were scarred, as if he had been punching a brick wall. "You must be Deputy Sergeant Applegate, I'm Lieutenant Hernandez. You'll be working for me as a 'honey treat' dangled out in public trying to attract the attention of Viktor Rostovitch. He is the leader of the local contingent of the 'Sevastopol Twelve'. He's the weakest of the twelve Russian bosses. Your job is to get close to him and find out about his organization. You'll be monitored, so we will know what you find-out and you'll be guided by vice detectives on what you should and shouldn't do. They will be in constant communication with you, so just listen to them. You should appear available, but be unattainable and you should not have to put-out. You'll be briefed further by vice officers. That'll be all, you can go."
Angie exited the lieutenant's office and left the door ajar. She was called over by Sonny and 'California'. Sonny briefed Angie, "We have rented an apartment for you near the beach. You'll move in tomorrow. Your cover story is something you can relate to, you were attending Saddleback College going for a Criminology degree. The story is that you got kicked out of college for cheating. Your step-mother, who wants you out of the way, made the most of it and had you cut off. The apartment belongs to an old friend of the family. The only money that you have is a few hundred dollars. You don't want to have to go to work, especially with fast food, which is about all you're qualified for. The only other job would be on your back and you can't even think about it getting that bad."
Sonny held up a locket on a chain and a pair of matching earrings. "Wear these always. The locket contains a microphone and the left earring has a tiny speaker. The mike and speaker are always on, you don't have to activate them. For your sake and ours, I hope you don't talk in your sleep. 'California' and Cotton will be your day-time shadows, Teddy and Skiff at night. Carl and I will be your 'floating' support, as needed. Teddy has a lot of experience, listen to him." He gave her a business card. "Take a bus here from Saddleback College tomorrow morning. Carry your stuff in a small suitcase. Don't take very much and remember, your source of ready cash has been cut off.
Rebecca gave Angie a long kiss the next morning and sent her on her way. She had agreed to back-up Angie's cover story if anyone inquired. Angie got off the bus at the Wind Chime apartments. The apartments were laid out as an oval of individual bungalows around a small outdoor park. Angie was wearing a pink halter top, which exposed her flat tummy, and white short-shorts with two inch open toed sandals. She went to the office and soon had her own apartment. Angie glanced at her watch as she unpacked her small suitcase; it wasn't even ten O'clock yet. Angie hummed a pop tune to herself as she finished unpacking and slipped into a bright orange thong bikini. A gruff male voice yelled in her ear, "Stop humming that tune; you've got 'California' singing it now. If he keeps singing, you're gonna be left alone with out back-up until the next crew comes on duty." Angie wisely stopped humming out loud, but now she just couldn't get that tune out of her head.
Showtime! Angie walked across the street in her bikini and sandals. She had left her watch back in her bungalow, but wore the earrings and necklace. Angie was carrying a net-bag with a beach towel and a bottle of suntan oil. A couple of yahoos or hobos hooted at her bare ass as she strutted across the street and strolled onto the beach. Angie's two inch sandals were not the best for walking on sand, so she kicked them off. She carried her sandals in one hand as she walked, her toes digging into the hot beach sand. She wandered down the beach until she was near a fenced-in area with some free weights and benches; the Russian equivalent of 'Muscle Beach'. Angie spread her towel, stolen from the Radisson, on the sand. I've spent so much time on this all-over tan; it would be a shame to ruin it now.
Standing next to her towel, Angie slid her top off, over her shoulders, freeing her bodacious boobies. The few men lifting weights didn't seem to notice her stripping, so she slid her thong down her legs and stepped out of it. Angie then sat down on her towel and spread suntan oil over her front. She took extra time on her ripe breasts and her womanhood. Angie stretched out on the towel and let the warm sun wash over her. Once she had spent some time on her back, Angie decided it was time to flip over and toast the back a little. Angie needed someone to oil her back, and thought this might be a great way to meet some Russians, maybe Victor. She walked naked over to the chain link fence. Angie noticed Victor from a photo that the vice cops had shown her. He was bench pressing an enormous amount of weight. Wow! Lieutenant Rodriguez had said that Victor was the weakest of the twelve crime lords. They must really workout a lot if they're stronger than Victor.
Leaning her large, oiled tits over the fence, Angie held up her bottle of suntan oil. "Can anyone of you muscular studs take a few minutes off and oil my back?" She smiled and without waiting for an answer walked back to her towel and lay face down. She didn't have long to wait. A minute later Angie felt a pair of strong hands massaging oil into her back. "Make sure you get my ass really good stud, I don't want to burn down there." The hands dutifully rubbed her buns, and then one finger slipped into her wet cunt and began to play with it like it was payment for the oiling job. The hands walked away and Angie suntanned in relative privacy. She flipped over two more times to finish her line-less tan. Angie got dressed in her orange thong bikini and walked home. The next two days went basically the same and she wondered if she was making any headway toward meeting Victor. Her nights were uneventful, but that was about to change.
It happened on the third day Angie was sunbathing nude. She had just taken off her bikini, sat down on the towel and oiled most of her legs. A pair of trainers stepped into view at the edge of her towel; Angie looked up to see Victor standing there shirtless, his muscles gleaming with sweat. "I'll oil up the rest for you babe. I've been watching you take care of your sexy body and I want to take over. Angie met his gaze, then lowered her eyes holding out the bottle of suntan oil to him. She closed her eyes as he pushed her onto her back and then rubbed the warm oil onto her prone body. Of course, Victor took extra time rubbing Angie's full breasts and womanly folds. Angie's nipples had not been that hard in a week. "I'll be back in thirty minutes to do your back. Oh by the way, I'm having you picked up at seven to bring you to dinner with me. Wear something sexy."
Waiting for her ride outside her apartment, Angie had already told the day shift about her date. She stood there and heard the muted sounds of the shift change over her earring. 'California' had assured Angie that Teddy would be listening closely and would tell her any instructions, as needed by the situation. If he didn't say anything then she had a green light and should act accordingly. Angie was dressed in a pretty evening gown that was also hot. It held her full breasts up high, on display for all to see. The tops of her heavy jugs shone in the moonlight. The gown was slit up to the waist on the left side showing off her stocking clad legs. A pair of three inch spike heels finished off her outfit. This dress is last year's style, but it's the best I've got.
Unbeknownst to anyone and especially Angie, things were not as they seemed with the two detectives on the night shift. Skiff, from narcotics, had a bit of a problem. He couldn't stay awake during the day, so he had taken stimulants for ten years to stay awake. This required him to take relaxants to sleep at night. He was clean now having gone through rehab, but Skiff's sleep cycle was set as if it was in cement. He volunteered for the late shift to try and break out of this pattern. It may have worked, but the other half of the team, Teddy, had a similar problem. He was a recent victim of narcolepsy. His regular partner, Carl, knew of it, but Teddy only had six months to serve until retirement and Carl was covering for him so he could make it.
A Lincoln Town Car was sitting at the corner near Angie's apartment blowing its horn. The driver got out and waved her over. "Are you the woman with the orange bikini? If you are get in, we're late." The driver was speaking with a thick Russian accent. Angie nodded, confused that Victor was not there. The driver winked and opened the rear door, then waved her in. Angie had just enough time to arrange herself on the seat when the car spun out, made an illegal u-turn and sped off down the road. "I take you to Mr. Rostovitch." The diver was then silent as they rushed off to Victor's club. The car made several sharp turns, not slowing down at all. Angie hung on to the leather seat with a death grip that turned her knuckles white. She managed to stay on the seat, her ass sliding this way and that. After a wild ride of about twenty minutes, the car screeched to a halt in front of a non-descript brick building. The driver hopped out and opened her door. Angie got out of the backseat of the town car and staggered towards the front door of the building. Man, it's hard to walk on these three inch heels, never mind the 'roller coaster' ride we had on the way here.
The driver took her elbow and helped Angie up a short set of stairs that led up to frosted glass double doors. Angie saw a brass plate to the left of the doors that read "Вертеп Дьявола".
The driver opened the door for her with a smile. Inside there was a space of a few feet between the glass doors and a set of sturdy looking solid wooden doors. A buzz was heard and the driver pulled one of the wooden doors open for Angie. She moved down a small set of wooden stairs into a dark, smoke-filled room. Angie's ears were assaulted by very loud Russian heavy metal music. Note: at this point Teddy, who was on duty, turned down the volume on the Angie's speaker. To her left were several men and women sitting in front of a bar on stools. To the right were some tables, half of them empty and the rest with some men and women sitting at them. All of the men were wearing black leather jackets with jeans and leather boots. The women were all dressed, or undressed, like whores and sluts. They were wearing corsets or tube-tops over short skirts or shorts and dark stockings that led to outrageous fuck-me heels.
All eyes were on Angie as the driver led her to the back of the club. He was saying something to her, but the music drowned out what he was saying. He continued leading Angie deeper into the club. As soon as they passed the speakers, the music volume fell to a dull roar. "... that's all I have to tell you. Just do as I told 'ya and you'll get along fine." Angie was about to tell the driver, who probably had introduced himself, that she hadn't heard a thing. Before she could, they were at Victor's special table. The driver pulled a chair out for Angie. She sat down joining Victor as the driver walked to the bar.
Angie smiled at Victor as she sat down, but he wasn't smiling. She was about to ask him why, but he cut him off. "You're late; don't ever keep me waiting again. I choose you to be my girl and you must do what I say!" Angie nodded as Victor read her the 'riot-act'. "You are OK, just be a good girl from now on. Bring the food!" A harried looking waiter wearing a white coat brought out two plates with a huge steak on each, rare of course, and some buttered asparagus. Note: Teddy had turned the speaker back up and was able to listen to the pair chewing and making small talk.
There was vodka after dinner, lots of vodka. Angie didn't, no couldn't, keep up with Victor. She was three sheets to the wind, while he appeared fresh. "Drink, drink, didn't Ivan talk to you about being my girl? I like my women to keep up with me," Victor stared into her blue eyes, in everything that I do. Do you think you are woman enough to be my woman?" Angie nodded making large, over-exaggerated head movements. "Good, let us go." He helped her up and led her out the back door to the club. Ivan was waiting with the town car.
The car sped back down the same route towards Angie's apartment, but this time slowing around the curves. The ride would have been much nicer for her, but she was kept very busy trying to keep Victor's tongue out of her ear and his hands off her body. I hope we get back to my apartment soon. This guy is too 'hands-on' for me.
Note: It was 11:45 PM, fifteen minutes before Teddy was due to be relieved by Skiff. Teddy kept looking at his watch, he would wait just five more minutes before he woke Skiff. It was then that the unfortunate happened; Teddy's narcolepsy reared its ugly head and he went into 'lala land'.
Angie was glad when Victor's car pulled up in the parking lot next to her apartment. She jumped out of the car even before the wheels stopped rolling. Victor was right behind her, taking her arm in his. "Let me walk you to the door, to thank you for your wonderful company." Angie gave Victor a quick smile and let him walk her to the door. She didn't know what to do and instructions were not coming to her.
When they reached the door, Angie thanked Victor for a nice dinner and evening. Victor stood waiting as Angie unlocked the door. He looked like he was expecting something, so she asked, "Would you like to come in for a night cap?" Victor didn't answer; he just smiled and entered her tidy, but small apartment. As Angie shut the door behind her, she was stricken with the finality of the hollow sound. I feel all alone here. Why aren't they guiding me in what to do? I remember that if they don't say anything it must be OK.
"I just realized Victor, the only drink I have is some white wine. If you don't want any then I don't know what to give you." Angie gasped; the look in Victor's eyes told her just what he wanted. He moved closer to her, holding his eyes with hers. Angie retreated before Victor and tried to gain control. "Now Victor, it's late. I really need my beauty sleep. Really Victor, we've just met each other. Please control yourself."
"You ask me to control myself, after you have been teasing me with your naked body all week? You expect me to just go back and go to sleep? After you have teased me all night?" Victor followed Angie until he had her backed into a corner. "You are my girl, my woman! You are here to take care of me, your boyfriend, Victor Rostovitch!" He grabbed her shoulders and looked deep into her blue eyes. His eyes were hard and unrelenting. Angie knew that Victor would get what he wanted. She let out a sigh, knowing that her future was sealed for the time she was undercover. Victor heard her sigh and knew it was a signal to go ahead, not that he needed to wait for one. He spun her around and frog-marched her to the kitchen table. Victor bent Angie over the table and flipped her dress up. He scowled at her sheer white panties and ripped them from her body. "Never wear those again. I want you to be always ready for me!" Victor unzipped his pants and plunged his hard cock deep into Angie's dry hole. She screamed in pain, but he ignored her and swung his hips, forcibly thrusting in and out of her.
Note: At this time another part of Teddy's narcolepsy kicked in, the hallucinations. Teddy thought he was at the Kentucky Derby. The race had just started; Teddy could hear the pounding as the horses struggled around the track. Then the scene changed. It was a pair of horses in a field, a mare and a stallion. The stallion was servicing the mare. Teddy could hear the sounds of raw sex, moaning and whinnying.
Avriella
- 18.02.2021
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Angie goes too far and could pay the price
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