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She opened the door to find him sulking on the stairs; arms crossed, eyes narrowed. She hung up her coat and took great pleasure in taking as long as possible to remove her shoes and place her umbrella in a stand by the door, punctuated with sounds of frustration being forced past James’ flaring nostrils.
“You’re late.”
James followed M with his eyes as she walked straight past him into her kitchen. She didn’t even spare him a glance. She filled the kettle with enough water for one cup and opened the fridge, searching for some sort of sugary treat to welcome her home. Settling on some strawberries she picked up the punnet and a half open carton of cream. As she closed the door she felt his hand on hers and his muscular frame trapping her. She couldn’t avoid him any longer. She took a deep breath and spoke with effortless professionalism.
“You needed to learn your place.”
For the first time since getting home she looked into his eyes and saw the cooped up frustration that had been brewing since she locked him in. She pushed past him and sat herself on one of the high stools at the breakfast bar. She chose a strawberry and nibbled on the end of it. The cool bittersweet taste made her purse her lips and gave an appreciative hum. James sat on the stool opposite and watched her eat.
“Is there something I can help you with, Mr Bond?” She dipped one end of the strawberry into the cream, “only you seem a little preoccupied.”
M continued to eat her strawberries whilst paying little attention to the man across from her.
“You’ve kept me here all day,” James snarled, “and now that you’re home you don’t even want to play with me.”
“Forgive me for not realising you were some sort of Labrador.” She threw a morsel of fruit towards him which left a trail of juice across the otherwise immaculate table top. “I find it best if I know exactly where you are. That way I don’t need to spend money and man power on chasing an errant agent across the globe.”
She could tell he was angry with her but she reasoned that some time on the naughty step may help get her lesson across and through his thick hide.
“You took my gun.”
Too late she stifled a giggle.
“How did you know where I keep my gun?”
“Honestly, Mr Bond. I wouldn’t be a very good matriarch if I didn’t know exactly how you conduct yourself from where you keep your gun to who your first crush was.” James picked up the strawberry morsel in front of him, put it in his mouth and rolled it with his tongue rather than swallowing it. “I doubt there is anything I don’t know about you.”
“My first crush?” His eyes were the height of scepticism. “That’s not the kind of information held by MI6. You wouldn’t know that unless you-“
“Unless I’d talked to anyone who knows or ever knew you.”
His scepticism abated slightly. She knows he believes in the lengths one might go to for information.
“If I want to keep you on a tight leash then first I must find out where to attach the lead.”
She didn’t even try and keep the smile from spreading across her face. She was playing with him. He sat in stony silence still toying with the bit of strawberry in his mouth.
“Laura Marshall. You were ten.” His ears pricked up. “You gave her a paper heart filled with ‘I love yous’ on Valentine’s Day but she saw you staring at Leanne Madley’s knickers when she did a handstand at play time and told you she hated you and wanted you to die,” James finally swallowed his food. M’s eyes dared him to ask how she knew, “Try me.”
“My first car?”
“Oh please,” M scoffed, “Golf GTI. A boy racer car if ever there was one. You wrote it off shortly after purchasing it whilst on the road to Glen Coe. But then that information is all over the DVLA.”
“Alright. When I lost my virginity?”
“You were seventeen, she was sixteen. You’d just passed your driving test and drove her for a posh meal in a restaurant that you didn’t want her to know you could easily afford. Ever the gentleman you offered to drive her home however, like now, your brain resided solely with your cock and before you made it home she fucked you in the back seat. “
“I meant my other virginity.”
“First week at the navy,” M looked superior, “but considering his current position within the government I shan’t mention names.”
She could tell he was impressed. She picked up the final strawberry and dipped into the cream as low as it would go before it went beyond her and dropped to the bottom of the pot. James considered her for a moment and then took a deep breath which made his whole body relax. M smiled at him.
“Now why would you go the trouble of finding out all of those tidbits of information?”
M wasn’t looking at James any more. She was foraging for her lost strawberry but the slippery cream was making it difficult. Every time it got to the top she dropped it back in again. James looked on in amusement.
“You don’t really need to know those things and with the right persuasion I might have even told you myself.”
“The great James Bond isn’t exactly well-known for sensitivity and nostalgia, excluding of course those bloody cars of yours. I needed a way to get my foot in the door without interference from you,” cream dripped from her fingers onto the table, “and if you pull another stunt like this again I will use what I know to keep you here again and crush every single one of those vintage cars into a tiny, rust-filled cube.”
She got up and searched for a cloth to wipe the mess up. She irritably moved things aside until she found what she wanted.
“Why not get a real lead for me then? That way only you can let me out; I only piss and shit when I’m allowed. Isn’t that what you want?”
“I want you to do your job and then return to your country like all those other more well behaved agents.” The atmosphere darkened as she pointed the cream covered cloth at him. “If you act like you need a keeper then I will have to cage you up. When you’ve earned that trust you can be let out again.”
James looked down at his hands. She had used the magic word that cut through his façade: trust. M continued to clean up but in her haste she knocked over the pot of cream.
“Bugger.”
“Let me,” James stood up and put his hands on M’s hips to place her back on the stool whilst he got another cloth and cleaned up. After using many paper kitchen towels all that was left was the almost empty pot of cream. He stood next to where M sat, his body touching her side. James wiped his finger around the inside of the pot and sucked the cream off.
“Mmm, not bad. Wish I could have had some.” He winked.
“When I left this morning it was unopened,” her anger was fading, “cheeky bastard.”
He licked his lips and stared down at the pot in his hands.
“I will earn your trust, M,” he wiped his finger around the inside again and gazed at her. Their eyes locked and he didn’t blink as she watched him suck the cream off again. Whatever feigned irritability M felt was quickly melting.
“You do have your moments.” A hundred memories came to mind but she was anticipating creating a new one.
James slowly stroked his finger around the pot again but this time he put it towards her mouth. She closed her eyes and sucked on his finger long after the cream was gone. Again he got some cream and stroked his cream covered finger across her lips before bending down to tenderly kiss it off. They both smiled into the kiss as it got harder.
James stood between M’s legs with his hands caressing her face. He always found a way to relax her and make her forget why he was in trouble in the first place. He kissed down her neck and nibbled on her shoulder as she tried to hold him closer. He’d done something very naughty, she was sure.
“Maybe I really should get that lead out.”
James hummed appreciatively as he continued to kiss any bare patch of skin his lips could find. Soon a wandering hand began undoing the buttons on her blouse just enough to reveal her glorious breasts underneath. He pushed his face into them, licking and kissing them as much as he could as M ran her fingers through his hair pulling him closer.
“If you were a really good boy you’d put me on that sofa and then get on your knees.”
James wasted no time in lifting her up and carrying her to the sofa. She could feel his erection pushing underneath her as he carefully put her down before spending a moment to admire the woman in front of him. He looked hungry as he hurriedly removed her underwear to reveal a warm and inviting pussy. He stared at her folds but obediently didn’t move.
“Please, may I?” She glanced at him but he wasn’t looking at her face. His trousers were straining with the pressure she was creating inside of him.
“Yes, there’s a good boy.”
His tongue made quick work of finding her heat and sucking on all the right places. She moaned softly when she realised he was doing it exactly how she liked it, exactly how she’d shown him. He wasn’t preparing her for anything; he was lavishing all of his attention on her.
“Fuck, Oli, you taste,” he nuzzled in again, “so damn good.”
After a few minutes her muscles were involuntary squeezing every so often as if to feel the pressure of something that wasn’t there. On cue, she felt a finger nudge inside her causing a moan that James echoed. He loved pushing her to the edge and servicing her every need so she made sure to put on a show for him to let him know how much she enjoyed it. She didn’t have to try very hard.
He began moving his finger in and out with his tongue focusing on her clitoris. She could feel every breath and wanted more and more and more. Her moans became louder as James moved his wrist faster, chasing an orgasm he was desperate to give to her. Every squeeze from her pussy made his cock bounce inside his trousers as it frantically wanted to be the one fucking her.
“Good boy. I’m so close, James.”
This wasn’t Bond; this was James, her James. He was so desperate to please her. She thought his cock must be leaking by now by the deviant moans that came from his mouth as he sucked hard on her clit.
“I want to see you come. Let me see you come.”
“Fuck, James. Yes!”
She came as her hips bucked off the sofa, his head following wherever her pussy went and careful not to break the connection to keep the orgasm there as long as possible. With his mouth tightly on her sex, she saw his hungry eyes watching her body writhe and waiting for the approval that he had done well. She felt each wave rushing through her but James valiantly stayed with her for every moment.
He removed his solitary finger from inside her and gently licked the juices he had created. She felt every curl of his tongue in the sensitive aftermath. M sat herself properly on the sofa and saw a large wet patch on the edge of the cushion where she had been sat. OAP or twenty-three, it appeared James Bond had this effect on all women. She thought about getting up to finish making the cup of tea that had been forgotten about but she noticed he was still looking at her. He was still like a dog that had fetched his stick and now he wanted his pat on the head. His trousers were still tented.
“Would you like some help with that?”
James lifted himself on his knees and kissed her on the mouth so that she could taste what he had just done to her.
“This is all about you, M,” he said, “I will obey you and only you.”
She looked pensive. Her golden boy was determined to prove his worth and really was trying to earn her trust again. Maybe she should lock him in her house more often.
“Alright then, Mr Bond. Drop your trousers.”