After I had killed the lieutenant, it wasn't long before there was an investigation.  My alibi stuck like solid granite.  With several witnesses and even video evidence that I was elsewhere, the investigators were quick to rule me out as a suspect.

          I got to play the wailing victim who lost his gay lover.  One of the younger investigators, who I could tell was another one of those newbies from intel, bought it big time.  I could tell from the looks he gave me that he was intrigued, even captivated, by my poor woeful circumstance.

          I even made it a point to break out in tears and hug him in my "grief".  I could tell from his response (or lack thereof) that he was interested in "comforting" me.  I pulled up the bottom of my shirt to dry my teary eyes and his glance went immediately to my washboard abs.  Yep, he was indeed interested.

          I was put up in a hotel room, as the apartment was now a crime scene.  When the chief detective had asked for someone to drive me there, I glanced over at the handsome young investigator and he was quick to volunteer.

          I invited him in and he agreed.  He stayed with me most of the night.  (He did have to return to the office for debriefing, but was very quick to return.  I guess, he didn't want to leave me alone in my "sorrows".)

           The night was hot and lustful.  The aphrodisiacs I slipped him went entirely unnoticed and made him even more passionate.  I could tell he had been holding himself back from relationships like most rookies.  This only makes them want it more when the opportunity arises.

          After several hours of love-making (plus a few tranquilizers), he was out-cold asleep in my bed.  I grabbed his car keys and went out to his car.  Sure enough, his computer was hidden in a secret compartment.  (You CIA operatives are so predictable.)

          I brought it in and began scrolling through the files.  Jackpot.  He had some clearances that gave me all their information on members of my team.  The fools had tracked me to up to 5 months ago.  (Looks like I was way ahead of them.)

          I quickly downloaded all of the intel, plus even got the identities of some of their undercover agents.  I returned the computer to the car.  It was almost time for him to wake up.  He had to be at work in an hour.

          I started a fresh pot of coffee.  The aroma filled the hotel room, waking him from his slumber.  He pulled on his underwear and came to the table.  It seems he was told he could come in later today.  Looks like we were going to have some time together.

          We sat and talked for awhile.  He knew from my interviews yesterday, that I had taken the exams to get into the CIA but didn't pass them.  We talked about the recruit training and testing program.  It seems we had a few experiences in common.

          I asked him if working for the CIA was all it was made out to be.  He said it wasn't.  He began complaining about his superiors and the bureaucracy.  I gave him some advice, as my record indicated that my father was a high-level operative.  

          The young man told me how difficult it was to get his superiors to accept his analysis.  He had tried to convince them that my boyfriend's death was a KGB hit, but they were all so convinced it was merely a burglary.  (Well, this was informative indeed.)

          He explained how the kill was in the typical spot for KGB training, especially from some sicko agent named "#####" (sorry, I'm not foolish enough to give my identity up here.)  He said the only difference was the knife that was used.  He said that it was usually a special-issued blade that the assassins received. 

          I told him that I knew exactly what he was talking about.  I got a blade out of my suitcase.  One that my "father" had given me.  He young officer was very intrigued.  I let him hold it and examine the craftsmanship of it.  He even tickled his bellybutton with the tip.  (It seems this may have been some sort of fetish for him.)

          When he handed it back to me, I thrust it straight into his gut.  I covered his screams with a passionate kiss.  His eyes were wide and his muscles quivered from the shock of the blade tearing into his guts.  I placed my hand on his chest and could feel his heart pounding.

I do this from time to time...

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Oh almost forgot. I also loathe guns and their appearance in any vid or cartoon or artwork or creation is almost always a let down, too.

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I guess I get it. Everyone gets turned on by different or slightly different things but nothing disappoints me more than something that could have been a great turn on but isn't. I don't get (but should!) WHY anyone would go for pics or simulations of beheadings, throat slashes or stabs, breast stabs, back stabs, nipple stabs, and especially dick stabs.

Sorry to be so specific but almost all of those are a turn off to me.

I guess I can understand the inch above the navel and below the navel ...a bit but when it feels so good to get it RIGHT IN THE NAVEL, why waste time and effort doing those other things. Some of them like dick stabbing are just gross to me.

I also don't really enjoy seeing unfit guys getting it like big fat bellies. Just my specific fetish. When I see a great navel stab in a big fat belly in a cartoon or something, I feel like it could have been so much better if the guy was muscled or slim. 

Just my thing I guess. it feels sad when I see some of these things in our creations.

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