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ThighVsThigh31b

This is a sexual story copyrighted by me, Shon Richards, so

please don't make any money from it. I welcome, read and respond to all

e-mail at shonrichardshsd@earthlink.net

For more stories of Amy and Bethany, check out

http://www.asstr.org/~ShonRichards/

"Gone in Sixty Strokes"

By Shon Richards

Amy Valentine could hear the couple next door having sex again.

The woman was crying out with each thrust and her voice rose and fell

in time with the creaking of the bedsprings. Occasionally, Amy could

also hear the slapping of the unknown woman's ass and when that

happened, Amy's lips would give a sympathetic moan.

It was a Hell of a way to have a stakeout. Across from Amy, she

could see Vince Nelson's motel room window. The light was on and Amy

could tell he was alone by the single silhouette. She didn't know when

his meeting with his buyer was, but considering that Mr. Nelson was a

lab tech for Amy's employers, Paragon Industries, any secret meeting he

had outside of company hours was reason for suspicion. Amy's mission

was clear: find out who Mr. Nelson is meeting every Thursday night and

discover if he is selling company secrets.

Amy sat in darkness by her window. She had planted a listening

device in his motel room earlier and the tape recorder beside her was

recording every sound that was happening over there. A camera sat in

Amy's lap while the brunette propped her feet on the wobbly table

before her. She looked great in her tight black jeans and black

turtleneck sweater, but sitting in the darkness, no one was there to

appreciate it.

Amy sighed as the couple next door cried out in unison. There

was a pause of silence, and Amy could imagine the afterglow the two

must be enjoying. It reminded her of her date she had to cancel

tonight. Being a high paid industrial espionage agent was great for

filling a house with treasures but it was sabotage on her personal

life. After three weeks without a date, a stranger at the bookstore

had asked her out on a date. After running his name through her

resources at work and making sure he wasn't an agent for another

company, she had called him back and accepted. An hour later, she had

to call him again to cancel and stake out some loser lab tech for the

entire night.

The couple began fucking again. Amy rolled her eyes. She

couldn't believe the bedsprings were creaking that loudly so soon after

their break. They must have stopped only long enough to swap condoms.

"Oh Jeff!" Amy heard the woman say, as plain as day through the

thin walls.

The name sent a shiver through Amy's long legs. Discovering the

name of one of the participants' added closer intimacy to the

involuntary voyeurism. Amy could now picture Jeff clearly. He most

likely had sandy blonde hair and never went anywhere without his

leather jacket. As the bedsprings kept creaking, Amy could almost

imagine Jeff's buttocks clenching as he continuously plowed between his

lover's legs.

Amy's sex clenched in unison with Jeff's imaginary buttocks.

When was the last time Amy had been fucked like that? It was last

week, on a mission of course. Last week it hadn't just been sex

involved though. There was a mission at stake, with sex opening doors

and creating alliances that would insure the mission's success. As

exciting as mission sex was, Amy found herself longing for the sex next

door. That was simple straightforward sex going on in that creaking

bed. Next door, two people were fucking. Maybe they were married to

other people and the sex was illicit, or maybe they had roommates and

having sex in a motel was the only way to have privacy. For whatever

the reason, their motives were more honest than anything Amy had fucked

for lately. The people next door never had millions of dollars at

stake on whether the woman would swallow or not.

Amy ran her fingers through her long brown hair and groaned. She

was getting maudlin and Mr. Nelson's fucking visitor still hadn't shown

up. The agent couldn't turn on the television for fear of getting

distracted, as if the couple next door wasn't distracting enough. Amy

was getting depressed and horny, and she couldn't even go to a bar to

have meaningless sex to make her feel better.

The agent blamed summer camp. As a teen, Amy had first seen sex

from the window of her summer camp cabin. The camp counselors had

fucked every night in line of sight of her window, and the young woman

had first learned the joys of spying and sex from watching those two

horny college kids. Just the sound or sight of other people having sex

without knowing Amy was there was enough to make the agent's sex tingle

unbearably.

"Fuck it," Amy growled as she unzipped her pants. Mr. Nelson

wasn't going anywhere that she wouldn't see from her window. She

pulled her jeans down to her knees, but she left her red thong alone.

Somehow, leaving her panties on made Amy feel like she wasn't

completely undressed and unprofessional.

"Ah!" Amy cried out as soon as her fingers slipped under the

fabric of her thong. Amy's sex was so sensitive after listening to the

hour-long sex next door. Her spirit may have been depressed, but her

libido had only been enflamed. The trimmed hairs of her bush were

slick from her desire and her fingers slid effortlessly over her small

triangle and slipped easily into the thick lips of her pussy.

"Wow!" Amy whispered. She had forgotten how hot being a voyeur

made her. The walls of her sex clenched her questing fingers, sucking

herself in. Amy's toes clenched and her buttocks tightened around the

thin cord of her thong. Amy used her other hand to pull on her thong

and she moaned as her thong rubbed against her tight ass.

"Suck me, Sharon!" the man next door demanded.

Amy shuddered. She had another piece of the puzzle and her name

was Sharon. Amy could see Sharon in her mind. She had short blonde

hair so that she could suck Jeff without it getting in the way. Sharon

had dimples and Amy could picture those dimples as Sharon's lips

wrapped around Jeff's cock.

As the bed springs creaked, Amy's sex squelched with a

complimentary rhythm. Her fingers plunged deep and pulled out fast.

Amy's fist clenched around her thong and pulled the thing material

tightly against her ass. Underneath her sweater, Amy could feel her

nipples ache against her bra. Her small breasts yearning to be groped,

fondled and sucked.

Across the street, a suspicious man in a trenchcoat knocked on

Mr. Nelson's door. Amy cursed, but she didn't stop stroking. The tape

recorder was still on, and Amy could always tail the new man after she

was done. More importantly, she was close to cumming.

The bedsprings were creaking with a different rhythm now and Amy

knew it was from Sharon's head dipping up and down over Jeff's cock.

She released her thong with her free hand and stuck two fingers into

her mouth. Amy sucked hard on her fingers as her hands fucked her

mouth and sex.

She was so close now.

Suddenly, Amy saw a blonde woman run up to Mr. Nelson's door.

Without bothering to knock, the busty blonde kicked down the door and

started yelling demands at the stunned men inside. Amy could see the

large handgun in the woman's hands and knew exactly who the blonde was.

It was her archrival Bethany Taylor, from Diligent Enterprises!

Amy paused in her masturbating. She really should get up and

intercept the agent. There was no telling why Bethany was there, but

if Diligent Enterprises were conducting a raid, it would be in Paragon

Industries' best interest if Amy would put a stop to it.

"I'm close, turn around!" Jeff yelled from next door. The creak

of the bedsprings suggested a hasty change of positions and the

knocking against the wall told Amy that vigorous fucking was now in

session.

Amy kept stroking. She was close; so very, very, close. Her

fingers picked up the pace; fucking her sex so hard now that Amy's ass

lifted from the chair to let her fingers dive straight in. The agent

debated how long it would take Bethany to do her business, and how

quickly Amy could give chase. Twenty strokes? Sixty?

"Fuck me, fuck me!" Sharon cried from next door.

"Fuck her, fuck her," Amy moaned as she pulled her fingers from

her lips. She moved her spit-covered fingers to her clit; rolling her

slick fingertips over her swollen clitoris.

Across the street, Bethany dived through the motel window. A

second later, an explosion blossomed out of the motel room. There

couldn't possibly be any survivors.

Amy just continued to stroke as Bethany ran down the street.

"I'm cumming!" Jeff growled.

"So am I!" Amy yelled back and she did. It was a full body

orgasm, spreading from her sex and over her body like the way the

debris from the destroyed motel room was raining down on the street.

As the flames from the burning motel room flickered, Amy's body

shuddered and shook.

Amy sat in her dark motel room with her fingers frozen in bliss

in and around her sex. Bethany was nowhere in sight and odds were, Amy

never would know what this was all about. The room smelled of mold and

musky sex.

She didn't care. The agent just waited to see if the couple next

door was going to fuck anymore. Her orgasm had wiped away her

depression and she was in the mood for more.

Amy smiled when she heard the bedsprings creak again.