The Devil's Pact Servants' ChroniclesChapter 3: A Bodyguard's Day free porn video
Thursday, February 14th, 2014 – Emine Mataraci "24" – Tacoma, WA
Something wet and warm nuzzled at my breast. A mouth sucking, nibbling, a tongue licking. My eyes fluttered open, a mewling sigh escaped my lips. Sandy-blonde hair spilled across my my dusky body as Jan sucked my nipple between her lush lips. Her brown eyes flashed up at me, and she smiled around my dark-brown nub.
"Good morning," I purred, running my dark hands through her cornsilk hair.
"Morning, Emine," she answered, kissing up my chest, nuzzling my neck, and then her lips found mine.
I enjoyed my partner's kiss.
We were the last two of the original bodyguards left, chosen that wonderful day in June when we competed for the opportunity to serve the Living Gods. Two out of twelve. Eight of our original sisters had fallen defending Mark and Mary, three in June when the nuns attacked, and five in September during Brandon's assault. The last two, 15 and 16, had retired with our Gods' blessing, reuniting with their loved ones.
Even though the Gods used their powers to make us their bodyguards, we had chosen to stay when they set us free after Brandon's attack. They were important, and I had sworn to protect and serve when I joined the Bonney Lake Police Force two years ago, and who were more important to the world to protect than the very Gods fighting the darkness?
No-one.
I kissed Jan on the lips. In our bedroom we could be our real selves, use our real names. Out there she was 23 and I was 24, but in here we were Jan and Emine; this was our safe haven, the place we could retreat to and relax. In here, we weren't on duty, and could be ourselves and love each other.
My hands roamed round breasts, my fingers finding her hard nipples; she squirmed and moaned into my lips, her tongue becoming more aggressive in my mouth. I shifted, pushing her onto her back and—
Beep! Beep! Beep!
"Dammit!" Jan hissed, reaching over to slap our alarm. We were on duty today, and that was more important than fooling around.
"Maybe we should shower together," I whispered. "You know, conserve some water."
"What a wonderful idea," she purred.
Giggling, we stumbled across our hotel room—the second and third floor of the Murano hotel served as the bodyguard's barracks, and every pair of guards shared a room unless she was married or had a significant other. We passed the second, unused bed to reach the small bathroom. The water was warm—the hotel had some heavy duty water heaters—and Jan jumped in, her sandy-blonde hair matted to her slick body.
She beckoned, "Come get me, sexy!"
I joined her, my dusky body pressing against her, and we kissed beneath the shower's spray. I grabbed the body wash and a loofah, squirting the fragrant soap—lilac—into the puffy, pink sponge, and rubbed Jan's delightful tits.
"Umm, keep washing my breasts," she purred. "I don't think they're clean yet."
"We don't want you to have dirty tits," I laughed. "We're going to be on TV today."
"I don't care, just don't stop soaping," she panted, her brown eyes squeezed shut. "That's it! Umm, you know just how to wash me!"
"Lots of practice!"
Her legs wrapped around my thighs, and her hot pussy pressed against me; she humped. "Oh, yes! I'm almost clean," she gasped. "Just a little bit more!"
"Are you that horny?" I asked in shock. My thigh was soaked, and not with water.
"We're going to be on TV today," she gasped. "Most of the world is going to see me dressed like a complete slut! My tits will be practically hanging out, and my skirt's so short they might catch a flash of my naked ass! Oh, fuck!"
She shook and gasped, and drenched my leg with her passion. More and more juices flooded my leg and I smelled something acrid. "Dirty bitch," I laughed. "Did you just piss on my leg?"
"Oh, yes!" she gasped, still cumming and peeing on me! "Oh, fuck that feels wonderful!"
She shook one last time, and gave one last spurt of piss before she relaxed and panted, a smile painted on her face. She caressed my cheeks, than Jan leaned in and planted a wet kiss right on my lips, soft and gentle and full of her wonderful tongue. My dusky hands slid up, grasping her shoulders, then I forced her down.
"You're going to pay for pissing on me," I smiled.
"Do it!" she groaned. "Piss on my face!"
I pushed my pussy right over her and relaxed my bladder. My yellow stream struck her right between the eyes. She squeezed them shut and opened her mouth, drinking my piss mixed with shower water. I wiggled my hips, letting my spray splash around her face. My pussy was on fire, tingling with pleasure.
"I'm such a filthy bitch!" she moaned. "Your filthy, little, White whore!"
I grinned at her, grabbing her blonde hair and pulled her face into my pussy. "Drink my piss, then lick my Turkish cunt!"
She swallowed the last of my stream, then her tongue pushed into my cunt, and my little, White whore devoured my pussy. She sucked and licked, and I leaned against the shower wall and moaned my passion.
"That's it! Eat me, whore! You White girls love to eat pussy!"
I humped my face into her pussy. I loved making a White girl eat me out. Besides Jan, my favorite White girl was sweet Cindy. Her first night as a maid, Cindy had learned to love drinking my piss right here in this shower as much as she had learned to love my pussy. That little kitten had a hot mouth; Dr. Willow had outdone herself with the maid selection. They were all hot bitches ready to drop to their knees and worship your snatch.
"Here it comes, bitch!" she gasped. "That's it! Like my pussy, balim!"
Jan's tongue worked deep in her, lapping at her pussy like a cute kitten. Her orgasm crested inside her, and she shuddered and almost slipped, grasping the shower bar and stumbling back. Jan looked up at her, licking her lips, concern on her face.
"You okay, Emine?"
"Yeah," I answered.
"I made you cum that hard, huh?" she giggled, pulling herself up.
"You always do," I told her. "Now, let's get showering, we can't be late for the morning briefing."
"I love you, Emine," she purred.
I smiled, and stroked her pale face. "I love you, too."
We had to finish showering in a hurry, and threw on our uniforms: navy blue blouses, half-unbuttoned, tucked into very short, blue skirts cinched with out tactical belts; thigh-high, black leather boots; and our most important piece of gear, our enchanted, bronze amulets. They could stop almost any bullet. Sam's invention had saved more than a few of our lives.
I noticed a package sitting on the bed, wrapped in red paper dotted with white cupids. Where had that come from. "Happy Valentine's Day," Jan grinned when she saw my questioning glance.
I flushed. "Oh, no, I completely spaced. I didn't get you anything."
She smiled. "I know. You'll just have to make it up to me tomorrow."
"Tomorrow?"
"We're off duty, and you're taking me out to a wonderful dinner, right?"
"Er, right. Yeah. It'll be nice and romantic."
She leaned in and kissed me. "I can't wait."
I wanted to open my present but, thanks to our long shower, we were running late, and it would have to wait until this evening when we were off duty. I gave her one last kiss, then we stepped out of our rooms and became 23 and 24.
Morning briefing was held in a small conference room, the Paradise Hall. It was lined with folding chairs before a podium. One wall was dominated by a mural of Paradise up on Mount Rainier, a beautiful field of flowers towered over by the majestic mountain. 51 stood at the podium, her blouse completely unbuttoned and draping around her pregnant belly. The other bodyguards trooped in, save squad H who were guarding the Hotel right now.
"Good morning," 51 said when everyone had entered.
"Morning," we all echoed back. We were all seated by squad; 23 commanded Squad B, and I served as her second-in-command.
"We have a big day today," 51 continued, clicking a remote and the laptop hooked up to an overhead projector started up the PowerPoint slide show. An image of the Tacoma Museum of Art appeared, a brick structure with large windows built next to a second, cone shaped building made entirely of glass. "The Tribute to the Goddess opens today, and Mary, Antsy, and Via will be visiting the gallery to examine the exhibit."
For the next thirty minutes, 51 detailed the security plan; we had all been briefed on it before, but you didn't take chances with security. Going over the plan one last time wouldn't hurt. Squad's A, B, C were tasked with security, supplemented with a company of the Legion. Squad's A and C would secure the exterior, while our Squad would arrive early to secure the interior, including the four young artists whose works were being exhibited and were being allowed to meet Mary.
"Are we all on the same page?" 51 asked at the end.
There was a general nod.
"Good. Next, Squad D and E will be escorting Missy and Damien to a Valentine's day dance at Washington High School..."
After the briefing, Squad B headed straight for the Museum in a convoy of Black SUV's. It was a short drive, we could have walked the four blocks, and we staged our vehicles in the back. We left our AR-15s secure in our vehicles, we wouldn't need the assault rifles for interior security, and walked up to the entrance.
The doors opened and a rotund man stepped out in a white, buttoned down shirt and black slacks, a radio and can of mace hanging from his belt. Around his right wrist was a bright-red medical bracelet; he was a Wormwood survivor, safe to walk around without risk of falling ill to the plague that only struck men. There hadn't been a case in a month in the Western United States, but the disease still persisted in other parts of the world and the quarantine was still in place. Any man who hadn't fallen ill had to stay home.
"Mr. Upton," 23 nodded to the head of security for the Museum.
"Everything's ready," he answered. "My men have cleared out of the exhibits wing, and the artists are waiting in a small annex."
"Good," 23 said, and we strode in.
The members of our squad knew what to do, and took their positions around the wing of the museum where the exhibit was being displayed. Paintings of Mary abounded on the walls. From stylized versions that barely seemed to resemble the Goddess, to hyperrealistic depictions of her naked, wreathed in flames, standing triumphant over Brandon's corpse.
23 and I would take care of searching the four artist who had the privilege of meeting Mary. They were young, teens or early twenties, and all beautiful. Korina had run the selection committee, and she chose the girls that not only were talented artists, but would also please Mary. All four were standing nervous, and they swallowed when they saw us.
"You have to be searched before you can meet the Goddess," I declared.
The Japanese girl caught my eye as she stared demurely at the floor. 23 saw my interest and gave just the tiniest nod of her head. One of the perks of the job was searching pretty, young girls. I marched up to the shy girl, her lovely face framed by her black hair. She stiffened when I stopped in front of her, then trembled.
"Strip," I ordered.
She blinked at me, and I put on my no-nonsense cop face, and her expression paled, then her hands reached up and slowly undid the little, ivory buttons. Her skin was creamy-olive beneath, contrasting with the plain, white bra that covered her tiny titties. Her blouse slid to the floor, then she unzipped the side of her skirt and stepped out of it. Her panties were the same, plain white.
"Everything!"
"Yes, ma'am," she whispered, and reached behind her back, her tiny hands trembling, and fumbled at the clasp of her bra. I gasped when her tiny tits, little buds, topped with small, brown nipples, peaked out. Then she hooked her hands into the waistband of her panties, wiggled her hips, and shimmied them down.
Her pussy was adorned with a sparse coating of fine, black hair, her slit virginally tight. I licked my lips as I ravished her with my eyes. Such a cute, little kitten for me to play with. I licked my finger, then reached out and rubbed her nipple; it grew hard, like a little bud. Her slanted eyes widened, and a soft sigh escaped her lips. I let my finger trail down her ribs, across her flat stomach, found the V of her pubic bone, then journeyed across her pubic mound. I reached her pubic hair and toyed with a silky strand of it.
"I'm going to do a cavity search, balim," I purred to my little kitten.
"Okay," she whispered.
I slid my finger lower, down between her thighs and stroked her vulva. Her cheeks flushed, and her lips parted as her breath quickened. I pushed her labia aside and found her small clitoris, and I stroked it with my thumb.
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