Peggy wanted to press about where he'd heard it, but chose to stick to the matter at hand."Sir, I was instructed to bring this to your attention. Someone is committing atrocities in your name. He claims to be your most loyal follower and is slaughtering entire towns. Mass concentration camps for anyone who disagrees with him. Race and religion mean nothing to him. If they don't accept you as their religion, he ends their lives."
"Fuck! I sewed it wrong!"
"..."
"Sir?"
"Ha? Yeah, continue."
Peggy gulped, noticing how this was going nowhere. "His name is Hitler. He has already seized Poland, Hungary, Croatia, Romania, and Bulgaria. Greece is nearly gone. France has surrendered. Spain has fallen. Entire cities are drowning in blood. He has no interest in peace. He kills and destroys without restraint, and he does it while claiming it serves your purpose. The pyramid you crushed in Egypt recently, he claims it was your approval, that you're aiding his holy ambition."
"And?"
She did frown this time.
"Peggy, right? Why should I give a fuck what you apes do with your free will? I'm not your damned caretaker. You kill, you enslave, you pillage, then yank my name through your filth, and that insanity somehow makes it my damn business?"
"But he's ruining your name, Sir."
"Do I look bothered, Peggy? Do I look worried?"
"I…" Peggy rose when the First Man got up and put his shirt and needle away. His sheer presence, his body, the ruggedness of it, his serious bearded face, his steel-like bare chest made her take a step back.
"This is a plea. Innocent women and children are being killed simply because they refuse to call you their god. Only you can stop it. We are trying, but we are human, and Hitler is using ancient weapons unlike anything we have faced."
As the First Man kept walking towards her, she soon lacked any more room to step back and fell backwards on the bed with a creak of the springs. Was it intentional? Was it natural? She was overwhelmed by so many thoughts. Could she seduce him? Would anything even change?
"Please… they are hopeless." She made puppy eyes and squeezed her legs high sexily, resting her arms under her breasts.
Marshall stayed silent, his shadow swallowing the dim lamp-glow as he leaned over her.
Peggy's breath quickened while she crept backward across the coarse wool blanket, the springs groaning under her until her head finally sank into the pillow.
His eyes never left her face, amused, a little cracked, until her knees bent and her heels dug into the mattress edge, offering herself up like a treat in trembling skin.
His hands started at her ankles, calloused palms gliding over the delicate bones, then up the smooth sweep of her shins. The military skirt bunched higher, fabric rasping against itself until it folded like a surrender flag at her waist.
Peggy's pulse thumped like a frantic drum between her thighs.
"Ummmh…" The hum slipped out, vibrating in her throat. Power radiated from his fingertips, and it sank straight into her bones, melting resolve into liquid need.
He shoved the skirt the rest of the way, baring her completely below the waist save for the polished heels still strapped to her feet.
No panties, just the faint strip of dark curls crowning plush, swollen lips that guarded a slick pink seam already glistening with shameless invitation. The outer folds were puffy, flushed deep rose, and every tiny throb made that secret slit wink open, begging for it.
"Hmm…"
Peggy hummed, cheeks burning as his stare pinned her down harder than any touch. The First Man's gaze devoured her cunt like it was an open menu of delicacies, and the weight of it alone sent a fresh gush of slick coating her entrance.
His right hand drifted higher, knuckles brushing her creamy inner thigh until two thick fingers settled over her mound. They parted her petals hungrily, sliding through the soaked heat, tracing the shape of her pussy before pressing inside.
The stretch was immediate. Her walls fluttered greedily around his digits, drenching his skin in warm honey.
"Oh… Sir–!"
The words cracked out of her as those fingers curled and pumped, scissoring gently to open her further. She was soaked, embarrassingly so, every thrust met with a wet squelch that echoed off the walls.
She feigned denial with a shake of her head, only to slightly widen her legs and give him more room. Her heels scraped the blanket as she offered more, chasing the friction.
"Ahh!" A true moan tore free when his knuckles grazed that sweet spot inside.
Her hips rolled shamelessly, riding his hand while her mind spun. This was a God, capital G, knuckles-deep in her, and she was dripping like a whore in church.
Trrrrrr!
"Aaaaaaah!"
Peggy cried out when the cold air slapped her chest. His left hand had seized the front of her uniform shirt and shredded it down the middle. Buttons pinged off metal bedposts like bullets. The black lace bra was yanked beneath her ribcage, and her famed melons spilled free. Heavy, ivory-pale orbs with wide, rosy areolas, crowned by stiff pink nipples that jutted ripe. They swayed with each heaving breath, soft and weighty, faint blue veins tracing beneath the satin skin.
"Mmmmmgh… So–"
The word dissolved into a broken whimper the instant his thumb and forefinger captured one nipple, rolling the sensitive bud.
A year without touch, and now lightning shot straight from her tit to her cunt. Her back bowed off the mattress, hips snapping upward as soaked walls clamped around his buried fingers. A rolling wave that crashed through her core.
Peggy shattered with a sharp cry, thighs quaking, pussy gushing over his hand in pulsing spasms while her nipples throbbed under his twisting pinch. Her toes curled inside the heels, every muscle locked in pure ecstasy.
Yet right at the peak, his fingers slipped free with a wet pop.
The First Man straightened, once again loomed over her.
Peggy's climax suddenly dropped into frustrated aftershocks. She stared up at him, chest heaving, nipples hard and aching, slick cooling on her thighs, and caught sight of the sneer on his lips.
"Woman, you ain't the first spy to lure me with a hot pussy. I've played these games before."
Peggy's face burned red in shame. She shot upright on the creaking bed, ruined shirt gaping, nipples still stiff and shining. "I… Sir…"
"I'll consider your request if you're able to get me off on your own."
"..."
She watched, mouth dry, as the First Man kicked off his boots and shoved his trousers down in one impatient yank. The fabric pooled at his ankles, and he stepped free, naked, unashamed, cock swinging heavy between his legs like a war club. It was obscene, thick as her wrist in the middle, veins roping the shaft, the fat purple crown already slick with a bead of precum that caught the light and gleamed.
He dropped sideways onto the narrow cot, feet planted wide on the floor, shoulders and head flat on the mattress, that monstrous cock jutting straight at the ceiling like a challenge.
Peggy knew the script. No words needed.
She peeled the bunched skirt down her hips and let it fall, then shrugged off the shredded blazer and shirt, leaving only the tie dangling between her bare bosom like a leash. The heels stayed, clicking on the floor as she rose.
She turned, her back to him, and straddled his hips in reverse. Feet planted wide on the floor, palms braced on the ridged muscle of his thighs, she reached between her legs and caught the scalding, swollen cock. She took a deep breath, then she sank.
The first press split her open with a wet kiss. Her puffy lower lips parted around the flared head, pink folds stretching glossy and tight, swallowing him in a slow, greedy glide. Heat bloomed inside her, molten and overwhelming, the thick ridge popped past her entrance and dragged along every sensitive inch.
"Oooooooooh… So much!" Her unfinished climax still simmered, and the stretch lit fresh sparks that raced up her spine.
She moaned, and she was no longer feigning anything. She felt the warmth, the pure lust from that unfinished climax. She was chasing it as much as she wanted to give this God his own climax.
Lower she went, thighs trembling, the shaft prying her wider with every heartbeat. Inch after inch disappeared into her clutching petals, the slick sound of her pussy eating him was obscene in the quiet room. Her walls fluttered, trying to adjust, but he kept arriving. Thick, relentless, until his bulge formed a visible ridge low in her belly.
"Oh… You're breaking me…" She withered, voice cracking, hips shaking as another inch speared deeper. Her pink petals stretched thin around his girth, glossy with her juices. She was no stranger to sex, but to this size… she was.
"Aaaaah… t-toooh much… stretch!" Every vein, every throb, she felt it carving through her. The head nudged something deep, kissing the mouth of her womb, shifting organs like he was rearranging her from the inside out.
Finally, her ass met his hips with a soft, wet slap. She was stuffed, impaled around the impossible length. A pulse throbbed against her cervix, and she swore she could feel him in her throat.
Peggy turned her head, hair sticking to damp cheeks, and met his lazy, cracked grin over her shoulder.
Then she started to move.
####
Plap! Plap!
Echoes of flesh on flesh drummed loudly, minutes of relentless rhythm already soaked into the air.
"Aaaaah!" Peggy kept moaning like a broken record of pleasure as she slammed herself down again and again.
Her ass, round, flushed pink, bounced in hypnotic waves, each slam sending ripples across the plush globes and slapping against his thighs. Her heels scraped the floorboards, toes curling inside the polished leather, the tie around her neck swinging between her jiggling tits.
"Fuck! Tight as hell!" Marshall growled, hands finally gripping her hips to feel the clutch of her cunt.
She'd already come three times now. Each climax ripped through her in shuddering pulses that milked his shaft like a fist. Her walls fluttered and spasmed, gushing fresh nectar that painted his balls and matted his pubes in sticky webs.
Peggy's eyes rolled back in delirium, lashes fluttering, mouth slack and drooling as she chased the next high. Her mind was gone. Just the wet slap of her ass, the burn in her thighs, the fat cock splitting her open over and over.
Marshall drank in the sight. The way her cheeks clapped apart on every upstroke, revealing the stretch of her pink, snug rim around his fat girth, the way her tits bounced so hard they smacked her chin with soft, wet thuds.
Squelch! Plap! Squelch!
She was leaking endlessly now, thick strands of sticky juice stretching between them like molten sugar, snapping and reforming with every bounce. The cot groaned under them, springs screaming, the air thick with the scent of sex and the wet squelches of her pussy.
"Damn! Spy pussy is always the best! Gaaaah… But this won't do."
Marshall decided to take matters into his own hands.
He sat upright in one fluid motion, arms snaking under her knees, going up, and locking behind her neck. With a grunt, he stood straight. He lifted her clean off the bed, her curvy body folded like a pretzel, impaled and helpless. Full-nelson, Marshall remembered the name.
His cock never left her cunt; it throbbed deeper as gravity dragged her full weight down, the fat head kissing her cervix over and over.
Her ass and tits dangled low, swaying like ripe fruit. He clamped one hand around her throat, completing the full body lock, and her heels kicked uselessly above her head.
"Ungh-ungh-ungh!"
Peggy's tongue lolled out, her moans and groans combined into a strange sexual song. Marshall held her suspended, cock jammed to the hilt.
Marshall snapped his hips like a battering ram, testing the limits of her cunt with every savage plunge. He stretched her pink walls to their brink, bruised the tender ring of her entrance with the relentless slam, and fucked her straight past sanity into a babbling, drooling mess.
Still locked in that position, he strode forward, boots thudding across the floor, and kicked the balcony door clean off its hinges. Sunlight poured in, hot and golden, as he stepped onto the narrow balcony perched high above the temple. They were high enough up that the tiny figures below were ants, oblivious to the god and the broken spy.
The view stretched for miles. Rolling hills, distant smoke, a whole picture-perfect postcard beneath them. Marshall grinned into the sun's glare, cock still buried to the base, and started walking the balcony's length like he was strolling a parade ground.
"Gah… Might just… go and check out that… Hitler guy."
___________________
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