Familiarity
- 3 years ago
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Liar free porn video
This is a bit different for me. While there are two sexual encounters, the focus is more on the romance between characters and the story line related to it. So if you’re looking for the characters to jump in to bed together by the third paragraph, you may want to read a different story.
Thanks to my friends who continue to encourage my writing.
-Jim
______________________________
CONFESSIONS
‘I’m a liar. There’s no better way to put it. I’m a liar and I’ve always been a liar. To flippantly say that I’ve lied about a few things doesn’t even begin to describe it because I’m not some run of the mill, average, every day, liar. It’s not like, I’m the guy who lies about how many drinks I had after work or why there are lipstick marks on my collar. It’s not that I lie about my income or exaggerate about my last round of golf. I wish it was that easy to explain. It’s not, it’s far worse than that. I’m a professional liar. My father was a professional liar before me and I learned from the best.
In 1974 we moved to Pittsburgh, PA. That’s where we spent a good portion of my teen years so in many ways, that’s home. Once again, my brother and I were thrust into a new school system and a new social environment where we would once again be called upon to lie about our family, our past, and our future. My whole childhood was clouded in secrecy and stealth, going from one last name to another. Sometimes we suddenly disappeared and mysteriously moved to another state within days.
The cover story I was taught for Pittsburgh was that my father had just retired from the Air Force as an officer in a division that required a fairly high security level. He supposedly had taken a job with a local accounting and consulting firm. But he actually worked for the CIA. My brother and I didn’t know the full extent of what his assignment was, nor will we ever know why we were in Pittsburgh. What we did know is that we were called upon to once again forget our past and memorize a new past, new names, new telephone numbers, new address, and a new reality.
I became rather good at it, in ways that often made my mother lose sleep at night. My brother on the other hand often struggled with the concept of being a liar. Mom spent hours quizzing him on his new cover, trying to get him to memorize the back story so confidently that he wouldn’t trip up in some social setting. Try as he might, he was always the weakest link in our family of liars.
I don’t know if it was that he had moral objections to being a liar, or if he was simply not as good at taking on a new character every time we moved. I hate to say it, but the fact that he couldn’t lie as well as I could made me think my brother wasn’t as smart as I was.
Unlike my brother, I took being a liar as a challenge. I would not only accept the new name and background, I’d develop a whole new personality for each new name, thoughtfully considering the back story and coming up with just the right personality traits and habits to go with the name.
As a junior high school student I found it rather easy to take on yet another new reality. It was all a game. Even my accent could morph slightly with each character I played. My personality could change in an instant. Just the mention of one of my ‘realities’ and I would change personality like putting on a different color robe. Guess I’ve always understood the concepts you hear from actors about ‘what’s my motivation?’ and ‘becoming the character’.
My name is Brad ‘Max’ Wright. Or is it? Hell, sometimes I get a bit confused as to who I really am. Now, if someone would call me Andrew, or Seth, or Martin, I’d respond. But I’d respond differently to each name based on the cover story, background, personality, accent, and even a different sexual orientation of that reality. It’s a trained response from living the life of a liar.
My talent as a liar was carefully developed through the years and honed by the very best. Recruited to the FBI during my college years, I was given detailed instruction on the fine are of being a liar. They trained me so well that at times I even had dreams that were from the point of view of one of my characters. My lies became realities.
Back in 2003, I even beat an interview by Roger Shuy who wrote the book on uncovering deceptions in the stories of suspects during interrogation. He wasn’t too happy about it either. But amazingly enough he became a great friend, even if I felt like from time to time he was analyzing me for his next research study.
Guess that leads me to where I am today. I’m a deep cover operative for the FBI. Most of the time I’ll live as someone else for a several months at a time. Once it stretched to four years. But it took months of debriefing and psychotherapy to pull me out of that character. Yeah. It does screw me up at times.’
Leaning forward to make my point, I continued, ‘Oh, don’t get me wrong. My life isn’t filled with danger and potential risk of life at any moment. Not all deep cover operatives are like what you see in the movies. My risk is simply of being found out by someone I’m assigned to observe. At worst I fear getting beaten up by a security guard and thrown to the street. I have a great admiration for those who work as high risk, deep cover operatives. Not that I envy their jobs.
While they’re working drug kingpins and syndicate bosses, I’m a bit more benign. I infiltrate the business world. It’s all pretty dull actually. If I told you all about my daily job you’d probably fall asleep on me. But we’ve put away a dozen businesses that represent billions in illegal activity including money laundering, corporate espionage, importation of illegal merchandise, human trafficking and high-end scammers.
I now work out of a high security facility near Clarksburg, West Virginia. The FBI says it’s a facility dedicated to the national fingerprint registry and bio-metrics data of the FBI. But then again, they’re all liars too. I mean, come on! Who needs a campus of buildings that size to house data?
Call it confession. Call it a cathartic moment. Call it whatever you want. I had an experience recently that has caused me to rethink my life. That’s why I’m here.’
I sat in the darkness for several moments. ‘Son, are you even Catholic?’ the Priest’s voice from behind the wooden lattice asked.
‘Twice I was.’ I replied.
______________________________
ONE MONTH EARLIER
The Jetstream 41 landed smoothly with only a mild yaw in its final approach before touching down at the small landing strip in Clarksburg. The hum of the propellers pulled the craft to the gate as I gathered my briefcase and personal items. Other occupants of the craft were putting on their sports jackets and straightening ties to disembark in the silent rhythm of business travelers.
Within moments an older, but well maintained, black Suburban pulled up next to the craft. Immediately several security guards got out and began surveying the landing strip and plane. Two other black Suburbans trailed behind by several yards and moved into position. Clearly one of the passengers was a VIP. It certainly wasn’t me, so I glanced around trying to imagine which of the passengers in which of the dark blue suits was the one that brought out the escort cars.
Stepping off the plane and into the cool spring air, I saw one of our passengers heading quickly to the Suburban surrounded by a handful of men in dark blue suits. His ‘staff’ had noticeable bulges along their hips, outlining their poorly concealed firearms.
‘Mr. Wright.’ A voice called out to me.
‘Here.’ I indicated while trying to raise my hand that was laden down with a brief case and jacket.
‘I’m here to pick you up. Over in the black Suburban.’
I smiled to myself since all the SUVs looked alike. But the young FBI agent that couldn’t have been any older than 28 was just doing his job. He took my luggage and s
wiftly headed to the tailgate where he secured them while I got in the passenger seat with my briefcase.
Barreling down the state route and crossing over I-79, I glanced up long enough to see the green highway sign indicating the FBI facility. Pulling off the offramp and passing a local hospital the road quickly became desolate, moving quickly into the mountains. Off in the distance I could see the familiar main gate. Gate keepers decked out in equipment that would make any large city SWAT team jealous surrounded the vehicle. After clearing security, we drove through the campus. Each time I was driven into the complex I thought that it looked more like a small university than it did a Federal facility.
‘Max, good of you to get here so quickly.’ Austin stood, pushing his desk chair back with his legs as he got up to greet me. He stood up greet me. That’s usually a bad sign. Any time Austin stands up, he’s got a big ‘ask’. I could only imagine the assignment he had lined up for me this time. He reached out to shake my hand over the pile of folders, stacked neatly on his desk.
‘Like I had a choice!’ I replied mockingly. I gripped his hand. I always have respected a man with a solid grip and Austin had just that. He smirked at me before taking his seat again, nodding to the brown leather chair set out for me. The soft chair seemed out of place in the sterile office, white walls with just a few photos and florescent lights. I threw my satchel down next to the chair before looking back to the pile. ‘Okay, so who am I this time?’ I replied.
‘Max, why so short?’ He replied.
‘Look, Austin. Don’t spread more shit. You’ve already told me this is important by a ticket on the executive jet, and you’ve told me that it’s a big assignment by the way you’re acting. So what is it?’
He exhaled deeply before grabbing a folder and glancing at the title tab. ‘Jim Newton.’ He said as he tossed a first folder at me. ‘You’re an accountant with BDO.’
‘Fuck it, not again. Can’t you ever give me a cover story that’s any more exciting than a boring accountant? Do you have any idea how utterly exhausting it is, just being around a room full of accountants?’ I grumbled picking up the folder and opening it up to the summary page.
‘Have you looked in a mirror lately? If the shoe fits….’ He trailed off before opening the next folder.
‘BDO? Are they in on this?’ I mumbled while looking over the summation.
‘Yeah. BDO has cooperated and has a whole employment record already in place. They’ve back channeled us in and even let us redirect calls from their switchboard to the workspaces.’
I thumbed through the bio sheet of the character they had created for me. I didn’t respond to his comment, knowing that my academic background of an MBA was often used as a part of my cover.
‘But we have a twist to the story this time. We’re using your MBA background and your hobbies.’ He grinned with delight knowing that I had not gotten to that page in the cover story yet.
I shot him a quick glance before thumbing through the cover story file more quickly. Most of it appeared to be the standard stuff. But then I hit a glossy 8×10 shot of a gorgeous woman. A whistle came across my lips involuntarily at the sight of her. A petite blond with a hint of tom boy but curves in all the right places.
‘We’re going to be drawing on your photography skills this time too. We need a photographer who can get to know this woman, Jessica Quinn.’ Austin instructed.
I gave a soft whistle before commenting. ‘Not a tough assignment then.’ I couldn’t help but smile at the thought.
‘Easy there cowboy. It gets better!’ Austin smirked.
‘How can it get better than needing to get to know her?’ I asked, probing for the whole story. It was usually better than digging through the portfolio pile he was about to hand me.
‘Your cover is that you’re an amateur photographer who enjoys teaching beginners and friends. She thinks of herself as a model and photographer of sorts too. But she’s more of a model wannabe. You need to get to know her and build a relationship with her. Talk photo geek with her. Teach her some basics of photography. Then when she trusts you, start into the normal routine. Get your foot in the door to her boss – who’s also her husband.’ He tossed another 8×10 across the desk at me. It slid across the slick, high gloss desk with ease.
‘God!’ I exclaimed at the sight of his mug. ‘She’s married to this old shit?’ The guy was at least 20 years her senior. It brought new meaning to the concept of ‘trophy wife’.
‘Adam Quinn. This old shit is trafficking in young women, bringing them to the States and putting them to work in back street sweat shops. They’re the lucky ones. The pretty girls he pimps out to his clients.’ Austin explained.
‘So he’s a sick old shit.’ I shot back. ‘How soon do I start on this.’
‘We have you set up to go in as a consultant for the department where Jessica works on Monday morning.’ He said as he tossed another folder at me. ‘Of course, being the boss’s wife, she doesn’t really work there. She’s just eye candy for the movers and shakers that Quinn brings in as clients.’
‘So what’s the objective?’ I inquired.
‘Intel tells us that Miss eye candy is pretty oblivious. She doesn’t even know that she’s carrying a load of encrypted files on the laptop she hauls around. Our impression is that she’s not bright enough to turn the thing on let alone be in on a major sex trafficking ring. So Quinn has been letting her mule data about his operation on it. Hard to get busted with records related to ferrying sex slaves across state lines if you never carry the data yourself.’
‘So she’s not a target, just an innocent bystander” I pressed.
‘She’s not under our investigation. Of course if you do some ‘probing into her yourself’ I’m sure you might dig up something. Just be sure to put a condom on that probe! But we don’t care about her. Just find a way to get the data files and get out. It’s a pretty simple operation.’ Austin leaned back in his seat and massaged his forehead like he was feeling the onset of a migraine.
‘Guess I better get at it then.’ I replied, shoving the folders into my satchel.
‘We booked you for two weeks on this one. Shouldn’t take long. There’s workspace ready for you. Workspace L412.’ He instructed. The workspaces were a maze of suites where teams would set up temporary offices or ‘workspaces’ for the duration of any operation. We endearingly referred to the Workspace floor as ‘the rat’s maze’.
I stood to leave, prepared to relearn my reality in three days, a new name, new background, new job, new priorities. I was already wondering about the new character that I’d become this time. When I got to the door I remembered one last item. ‘Who’s my handler this time?’ I asked without looking up from the file I was scanning.
‘Billie Haynes.’ He said with a mild tone of self-amusement as began rubbing his eyes with his fingers.
I stopped cold in my tracks at her name. Billie!
I’ve been trained to not react too apparently to any comment made by anyone at any time. It’s part of living your entire life undercover. Any hint of an emotional reaction to news could blow your cover faster than anything else. So I’ve learned to maintain a cool and calm demeanor to just about any news. But I wasn’t ready for this.
The expression on my face must have told it all. He wouldn’t look directly at me as I turned to look back at him. ‘You’re one sick shit, you know.’ I shot back.
‘Glad you approve.’ He dryly responded with a devilish grin. He knew he had had me this time. ‘Just don’t let your past interfere with you doing your job.’ His voice turned quickly to that ‘boss’ tone that he’s known for. ‘She’s not buying your shit anymore. Things have changed while you were gone. Changed in a big way. So don’t get all sentimental on me, just do your job.’
‘The bastard knows ex
actly what he’s doing.’ I muttered to myself as I took the elevator down another floor to the workspaces. I truly wasn’t looking forward to this. Billie and I parted on pretty harsh terms after a blown operation that should have cost us our jobs.
Fortunately Austin was the only one who knew about our indiscretions. He buried the info for some reason. Maybe he likes us or maybe he just didn’t want to fill out all the forms it would require to fire us. Whatever the case, he was throwing us back together again. It could be just a sadistic way of getting back at us for causing him problems.
Billie was a genius hacker and a pretty decent handler. She had been my primary source of information and communication with headquarters during three operations. We became too personally involved in our relationship during a routine infiltration of a web scammer operation eighteen months earlier.
She had played the part of my girlfriend so that she could come and go from the company that I was ‘working’. We’d meet for lunch or she’d pick me up after work, which got her in and out of the building. As the weeks passed, the front desk staff didn’t even blink as she came and went. In those meetings I’d pass off pertinent information and data for her to copy, scan, and correlate during the op.
I had enjoyed those lunch meetings. But some of my ‘co-workers’ got suspicious. Apparently we weren’t acting enough like a dating couple. So I started holding Billie’s hand, kissing her good-bye, and even letting other people see us sneaking a quick grope to ward off suspicions. Somewhere along the way, I started enjoying those quick gropes. So much so that I would do it when nobody was even looking. It was no longer just for show. It was for us.
Then it happened. One night when she picked me up at the office and I kissed her, it wasn’t a phony, make believe kiss to keep the cover. This time she kissed back. She really kissed me. She kept her eyes open and kissed me back, deeply, confidently, and so sensually that I instantly knew it wasn’t a part of our cover. I didn’t stop her. I kissed her too.
It wasn’t long until we were back at my apartment taking a long, extremely hot shower after having spent an early evening of passion together. The rest of that night we spend together she fell asleep in my arms and I knew I wanted her in my life. More than a co-worker and certainly more than a handler. She was my lover.
Billie was far more than some quick fuck. When she was in my arms I was at peace with myself for the first time in a long time. We shared everything with each other. Long walks in the park and long nights making love. I knew she was special when she fell asleep in my arms after the first time we made love. She even snored briefly. God, it was kinda sexy to me in some weird way. She was comfortable enough in my arms to relax and be herself.
I arrived at our workspace office and quietly looked inside. There she was. How do I describe her? She’s fantastic. Unlike the bimbos and younger women that I often surround myself with during operations, Billie was a real woman. She was all woman, and she knew how to treat a man. Of course that was my downfall. I could feel the uneasy sensation of my stomach tightening as I stood there in the hallway looking at her.
We both got to the point that we were fearful that we’d become too close and jeopardize the operation. Fortunately our foul-up wasn’t unrecoverable. But it was enough to send us scrambling into repair mode. We knew we were getting too close. We knew we shouldn’t but for some reason we couldn’t avoid letting our attraction for each other surface. And god did it surface. It boiled to the top in waves of passion.
She was busy digging through files and sorting materials for this new operation. From the hall I could smell that familiar scent she wears. It brought back a wave of memories that I needed to control. Her short brown hair was even shorter than I remember and she had added some highlights. The form fitting, dark blue jacket expressed her curves beautifully. The skirt was just long enough to meet FBI standards but when she sat down it drifted up to show off her legs. I remembered those legs. Touching them, kissing them, and exploring every angle. Yeah. I stood there for several moments drinking in the sight of her. God it had been far too long a time.
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