Secure Safe House, Maryland 1985

Kyle Gordon arrived to find Steven Boland drinking coffee but with an unopened bottle of vodka on the table. Steven greeted Kyle with a manly hug and whispered ‘zdraztvuytye’, a greeting in Russian, into his ear to which Kyle responded ‘dobriy vecher’ or good evening. Kyle’s Russian was getting better but his accent was terrible, as was to be expected, Steven thought.

Kyle had learned Russian from his parents and now that they were gone he had no one to practice with except Stephan Boriliski and they mostly spoke English unless they were in a situation where it was totally safe to converse in the mother tongue.

“Crystal did well with Colonel William Spooner; he’s singing like a bird and is a great source of intelligence,” Steven motioned towards a wooden chair at the small kitchen table.

Steven talked about Crystal Greystone as if she was a separate entity to Kyle Gordon which in some respects she was. When Kyle transformed into Crystal, the transformation was total. Crystal also thought of Kyle as a totally different person.

Kyle nodded.

“It’s amazing what secrets a man is willing to betray to protect himself from the shame of being exposed as someone who has been intimate with a female impersonator. Especially someone with so much to lose,” Kyle said as he sat down.

“I wonder if there will ever be a time when transgender women are treated as equally as their biological sisters,” Kyle mused.

Steven just nodded. Having tasted the delights that Crystal Greystone had to offer and then feeling shame and anguish afterwards, he preferred not to discuss the dichotomy of using a female impersonator as a Soviet operative against the hated Americans. The fact was that in Russia Kyle would be interned in a forced labour camp until he had ridded himself of the urge to become Crystal. Steven preferred to think of Crystal as a weapon rather than as a person and was uncomfortable in her presence given their history. He mostly met with Kyle in his male persona and when he had to collaborate with Crystal he kept their meetings deliberately short in case he became tempted by her incredible beauty.

Steven moved the conversation along and unscrewed the cap off the vodka and poured them both a drink.

“Colonel Spooner has moved from his position as a liaison officer hosting foreign visitors to the Pentagon from NATO countries and is now working as a military adviser on Project Excalibur. What we are about to discuss is top secret and to be blunt, quite terrifying,” Steven stared gravely at Kyle.

“You understand the concept of mutually assured destruction Kyle? A principle of deterrence founded on the notion that a nuclear attack by the USA would be met with an overwhelming Soviet nuclear counterattack such that both the attacker and the defender would be annihilated?” Steven answered his own question.

Kyle nodded; he didn’t need a lesson on Cold War philosophy.

“The Americans are developing a weapon under the remit of their Star Wars program. The precept is X-ray lasers that can be generated from a single nuclear weapon in orbit, meaning a single weapon would destroy many ICBMs. This means that should the US use its nuclear arsenal on the USSR our counterattack would be almost nullified,” Steven said grimly.

“Or if we were to launch a first strike their laser weapon would so blunt the attack that any US response would be overwhelming in comparison,” Kyle countered.

Steven shrugged his shoulders begrudgingly. Soviet rhetoric was such that the Americans were always the aggressor and Soviets the brave defenders of their nation.

“What are we doing about this Project Excalibur and where do I fit in?” Kyle asked.

“It is complicated because the project is tied to the US nuclear weapon testing program. The project needs to perform their tests during controlled nuclear explosions which produce the X-ray lasers. The tests are conducted at the Nevada test site and we have had very little success infiltrating the facility,” Steven poured more vodka.

“But Project Excalibur is not run exclusively by the military. It is run by a consortium that is overseen and funded by the United States Department of Energy,” Steven drank his vodka in one shot.

Kyle was patient. He knew that his handler would get to the point when he was good and ready.

“The Americans are about to conduct a nuclear test under the codename Cottage at the Nevada test site. Several highly placed members of project Excalibur will attend. Our comrades in California have managed to infiltrate the Lawrence Livermore Laboratory, only in a perfunctory capacity, but enough to find out the names of some of the delegates who will attend the tests,” Steven was finally getting to point.

“The man we want to target is a scientist. A scientist who is highly intelligent and knowledgeable but he is also a radical, a libertine. He is a pacifist who believes that Project Excalibur has the potential to end what the Americans call the Cold War,” Steven looked inquiringly at Kyle waiting for a question.

“A radical libertine working on a secret nuclear weapons project? This man must be brilliant if they allow that. It might also make him susceptible to approach by foreign nationals with a view to espionage,” Kyle smiled wickedly.

“Indeed it would. Especially as the man, Professor Brett Beaumont, has been reprimanded previously for engaging in illicit activities, but his unique abilities and expertise in laser technology and development are invaluable,” Steven grinned.

“We know that he will be heading to Nevada ahead of the test to oversee some aspects of Excalibur but he also intends to enjoy some recreational activities in Las Vegas,” Steven’s grin widened.

“And if Brett Beaumont was to run into an exotically beautiful young woman named Crystal Greystone he might be inclined to be indiscreet?” Kyle smiled at Steven.

Stephan Boriliski, aka Steven Boland nodded sagely and poured more vodka.

“The rezidentura is sending you an assistant to do the run-go-fetch for you. You are never to meet face to face of course, use the normal protocols for communication,” Steven passed a full glass to Kyle who nodded sagely.

“We have a little time before the test so we need to us it wisely,” Steven leaned across the table and patted Kyle on the forearm.

“Also, there is another matter here in Washington that I want Crystal to take care of before she heads out to Las Vegas,” Steven added.

*****

Park n’ Go Garage, Massachusetts Ave, Washington DC, 1985

Crystal had a string of casual suitors that she used for the intelligence they could provide her. Blackmail was not the only weapon in her arsenal, she was an accomplished seductress and post-coital pillow talk often produced little gems of intelligence.

One of those suitors was Bronson Bateman, a Washington lobbyist. Bronson was currently trying to convince a Senator to vote against a bill which would approve sending more Stinger missiles to Afghanistan to support the Mujahedeen rebels fighting Soviet forces. What Bronson didn’t know was that he had been hired and financed by a shell corporation that was ostensibly legitimate but was actually operated by the KGB.

Bronson Bateman was close to convincing the senator and his voting block to reject the bill in the upper chamber of Congress when Bronson was approached by a man who claimed to have proof that the corporation behind the lobbying was a malignant foreign power. The man with the proof was an FBI counterintelligence agent. The KGB feared that Bronson Bateman would switch sides and provide the information to the Senator who would then vote for the bill along with his voting block colleagues.

It was Crystal’s job to prevent this as soon as possible.

“It’s been so long darling, I’d love to meet you tonight,” Crystal spoke seductively into the phone.

Bronson Bateman started to become tumescent just listening to Crystal’s husky voice. He hadn't seen her for a couple of weeks and was craving her special talents.

“I have a meeting I can’t miss. I can meet you at the Pink Parrot after my meeting,” Bronson countered.

“I’m working late tonight and won’t finish until the club closes and I’ll be too tired then. I’m heading out west to perform in Las Vegas soon so this will be our last chance to get together for a while,” Crystal used her most seductive voice.

Bronson checked his watch. His meeting was with Senator Palmer where he intended to divulge to the Senator that he had been duped and that the Senator should vote for the Stinger bill was at 8pm. He could meet Crystal before she started her shift at the Pink Parrot but he would be cutting it fine.

“Can we meet at your apartment at seven? It would have to be quickie,” the thought of slipping his hard cock into Crystal's tight ass while he kissed that pretty face made him more determined to meet her.

The apartment Bronson was talking about was not Crystal’s loft above the flower shop at Woodley Park. That apartment was part of Kyle Gordon’s legitimate existence; Bronson had no idea what Crystal did for a day job. He was talking about the apartment rented for Crystal Greystone under a false name near DuPont Circle. It was fitted with video and audio devices and was the same apartment that Crystal had used to seduce and entrap Colonel William Spooner and many others.

“I can’t meet at my apartment. I have a friend staying; I was hoping you had somewhere,” Crystal set the bait.

There was no way a successful lobbyist was going to be seen in a respectable public place with a girl like Crystal. It wasn’t that she wasn’t passable; it was because she was so uniquely beautiful that she was also memorable and people were likely to ask him where he had met her and how they met. A truthful reply along the lines of: ‘I got high one night and went to the Pink Parrot gay bar and picked up this pretty female impersonator who did things to me that no woman could do’ would not go down well. Bronson's brain was ticking over.

“This is going to sound sleazy but what about in my car? You know the parking lot on Massachusetts Avenue not for from the Parrot. I can be there at seven,” Bronson said hopefully.

“I start my shift at The Pink Parrot at eight, so yeah, I guess if that’s the best we can do,” Crystal dangled the hook.

“You know my car, the white Cadillac Eldorado? I have a permanent slot on the second floor,” Bronson crossed his fingers.

“Yeah I know it. I’ve blown you in that Caddy outside the Parrot,” Crystal replied sarcastically.

“But I am not walking around a multi-story parking garage in my high heels and a cocktail dress,” she countered.

Just the thought of Crystal dressed in her little black sequined cocktail dress wearing spiky high heels was enough to make Bronson’s semi-hard cock throb.

“I’ll pick you up on Massachusetts Avenue a block south of the garage and drive to the lot. I’ll drop you off at the Parrot after,” Bronson proposed.

“I’ll see you there. Seven o’clock and don’t be late,” Crystal set the hook.

“See you honey, gotta go,” Bronson broke the connection.

Crystal contacted Steven Boland using a payphone and told him of the assignation and he promised her that she would have all the support she needed. There was no way that the undertaking they had planned could take place at the apartment Crystal usually used for assignations. The parking lot was the perfect location.

Crystal waited on the corner of Massachusetts Avenue and 16th Street trying her best not to look like a hooker in her black sequin three-quarter-length-sleeved micromini cocktail dress and shimmery fleshtoned fifteen denier holdup stockings and black four-inch pumps. She was wearing her burgundy bob, her makeup was heavy, her platinum jewellery sparkled under the streetlights as did the sequins on her dress; she had a matching clutch purse slung over her shoulder, held by a long spaghetti strap. She smoked a menthol cigarette, whilst walking in circles to ward off the chilly breeze coming off the Potomac River only a mile away.

After enduring the ignominy of drivers slowing down to ogle and wolf-whistle, the sight of Bronson Bateman’s white Eldorado finally pulling into view was a relief. Bronson spied Crystal and his heart skipped a beat. That girl was more stunning than most of the cis-gender women he knew and she could do things with her mouth and ass that amazed him.

“Hi honey, it’s fucking freezing out there,” Crystal said in her dusky voice and leaned over and kissed him on the cheek as she climbed into the nice warm car.

Bronson was already hard but when she enveloped him a miasma of Poison his cock became steely. He took Crystal’s hand and placed it in his lap. She squeezed his turgid member and smiled at him as he pulled into the evening traffic.

“You really are ready for a quickie aren’t you?” Crystal giggled.

“So this gig in Las Vegas; what’s the story?” Bronson asked.

He couldn’t really give a fuck about Las Vegas but he thought he should show Crystal the courtesy of pretending to be interested in her life. He didn’t know much about her at all outside of the Pink Parrot and the little apartment where they fucked and he didn’t want to. She was his dirty little secret and he didn’t want anyone to know about her. His credibility on The Hill would be shot to shit if anyone knew he was fucking a transwoman.

The Caddy’s tires squealed as Bronson pulled into his allotted space on the second story of the multi-level parking garage. His parking space was right at the end behind an air-conditioning unit, screened from the rest of the lot. Not that it mattered, the place was dead quiet, most of the congressional staff and their flunkies were still working hard at this time of night.

Bronson pulled Crystal into the back seat, hitching down his pants as he did so. She put the long thin strap of her clutch around her shoulder so she wouldn’t lose it and kissed him passionately and he impatiently pushed her head down into his lap.

Bronson had a nice cock, long and thin with a pale milky shaft and pink glans which was already leaking precum. Crystal slurped away the globules of the clear viscous liquid and began to suck his cock earnestly. Bronson moaned and leaned back in the seat, guiding Crystal’s mouth up and down his cock as she used her lips on his shaft and her tongue on his fraenulum. She was tucked and taped for work and as she was wearing stockings vice pantyhose the tuck was tight. She didn’t want to become hard because she would become uncomfortable. Her tuck would allow her to sit and urinate but if she became tumescent it would likely break free.

Bronson was enjoying having Crystal suck his cock, she was the best. The narcissist misogynist in him thought that a man who could pass himself off as a woman would naturally give the best head: ‘a man knows, what a man likes’ he thought, although he never thought of Crystal as a man, even when she splashed her sperm over his belly when she was riding him cowgirl.

He reached into the inside pocket of his jacket and pulled out a silver vial and unscrewed it. The top portion had a little spoon built into it and he scooped out a bump and sniffed it and did the same to his other nostril. He tapped Crystal on the head and she looked up at him but shook her head and went back to sucking his cock.

Bronson was close to coming and the coke had made his cock swell to full tumescence and Crystal figured that as he was in a hurry he would make do with the blowjob but she had other plans. She took her head out of his lap and quickly straddled him so that she was facing him with her knees either side on the seat. She eased her panties aside and slowly impaled herself on his cock while she put her arms around his neck and kissed him.

Crystal was ready for sex and had douched and pre-lubricated her anus in anticipation. Bronson’s cock slid into her ass easily, right up to the hilt. He put his hands on her thighs and thrust upward and Crystal pushed down at the same time, feeling his hard cock press on her prostate. She wriggled her buttocks, squeezed her sphincter and drove her tongue into Bronson’s mouth and was rewarded when she felt his cock judder and empty his sac deep inside her anus.

“That’s a good boy,” Crystal cooed and kissed him tenderly.

Bronson smiled up at her, a look of contentment on his face as the last of his spend spurted from the eye of his cock, deep inside Crystal’s bowel.

“Thanks lover, I know you're in a rush,” she smiled back at him and lowered her face and kissed him languidly.

Her hand slipped into her clutch and she extracted the hypodermic syringe from its hiding place. She thrust the syringe into Bronson’s neck and he gasped and went limp and fell into unconsciousness. The speedball of cocaine and heroin was close to a lethal dose and Bronson’s heart slowed to twenty five beats per minute.

She slipped off Bronson’s comatose body and, keeping her dress hiked up out of the way, she lowered her panties and squeezed her anus to expel Bronson’s semen which she carefully collected and put into a little baggie. She put her panties back in place and then smoothed down her dress. She got out of the back of the Cadillac and two men emerged from behind the air-conditioning unit, both dressed from head to toe in black, wearing ski masks and gloves.

“He’s all yours,” Crystal said nonchalantly, handing off the baggie as she walked to the elevator, her heels clicking on the bare concrete.

Bronson’s body was found in his car in Rock Creek Park by two members of the United States Park Police the next morning. They also found the body of a partially clothed hooker beside him. A forensic investigation found Bronson Bateman’s semen in the vagina of the hooker who had a long list of convictions for solicitation. The investigators also found both heroin and cocaine at the scene and in the blood of both deceased along with strangulation marks on the hooker’s neck.

Rudimentary analysis and a forensic examination matched Bronson’s blood type to the semen found inside the hooker and the coroner determined that Bronson had strangled the girl in a hallucinogenic rage during a self-inflicted accidental drug overdose. Bronson was known to be a party animal who regularly used recreational drugs and a womaniser and few would dispute the findings.

Senator Palmer was outraged and when a second lobbyist, a KGB undercover operative, approached the senator and assured him that Bronson’s claims that he was being used as a stooge by foreign nationalists was just a drug-induced fantasy. The Senator and his voting block vetoed the bill.

By then Crystal was already in Las Vegas.

*****

Las Vegas Nevada, 1985

“You sure you are going to be ok managing Fresh Scents by yourself Jeremy? I can get in another assistant if you want,” Kyle said as he made his final preparations to leave for Las Vegas.

“Six days a week in the flower shop is hardly taxing dear and if we did hire another assistant it would likely be some young fairy who would spend all day sniffing the flowers and making goo-goo eyes at the customers. Youngsters today have no work ethic,” Jeremy tut-tutted.

“Ok, I’ll call you from Vegas now and then to see how things are progressing,” Kyle gave Jeremy a hug and drove away.

But he didn’t drive far. He drove to Crystal Greystone’s apartment that was rented under a false name and transformed into Crystal and packed her suitcase. For this particular operation Kyle was to present as Crystal fulltime and she was quite happy to do so. Crystal dressed in pink spandex leggings over sheer-to-the-waist pantyhose, a black short-sleeved open-necked top and carried a black leather jacket. She wore spiked four-inch heels and her makeup was heavy. As she was presenting enfemme she also wore prosthetic breastforms to fill her c-cups and wore her own hair cut in a shag bob styled with burgundy highlights.

She picked up her identity documents and gave them the onceover. They were perfect and so they should be, Crystal Greystone was a legitimate American citizen, although she had died at birth in 1964. It was Crystal's task to present as a flamboyant young showgirl who was going to Las Vegas to perform as a drag queen at the Ambassador Hotel and Casino.

Steven Boland had represented himself as Crystal’s manager and booked her for a four week appearance in the Boys Will Be Girls Spectacular review. This covered the time leading up to, during, and after the Cottage nuclear test during which Brett Beaumont would be visiting Las Vegas.

The rezidentura had ordered that Kyle was to use Crystal Greystone’s identity exclusively for the operation so that if she was exposed she could seamlessly assume the identity of Kyle Gordon and escape without a trace. Crystal Greystone’s identity was expendable. Because Kyle Gordon was a legitimate American citizen his identity was not expendable; he was too valuable.

Having packed her bags Crystal was ready to depart and took a taxi to Dulles airport and smirked at the driver who openly ogled her ass and legs as she climbed into the cab. She checked in seamlessly at the airport and waited for her flight at the bar sipping a gin and tonic, shooing away a few hopeful suitors. She had dressed provocatively on purpose. As of now she was a showgirl so she behaved like one. The pretty twenty-year-one-old with her long legs, pert bottom clad in skin-tight spandex, her perky breasts and pixie haircut framing her beautiful face caught the eye of most of the men at the airport.

She settled into her business class seat for the long journey, drinking the complimentary champagne offered by the stewardess, declining the recommended beef wellington selection for dinner, selecting the salad instead but accepting the proffered sauvignon blanc to go with it. A gin and tonic would be provided after take-off.

A handsome man in his fifties took the adjoining seat and gave Crystal an admiring look. Crystal was not at all ageist, in fact most of her suitors were older men but she was just not in the mood for idle flirting so she gave the man a wry smile and went back to her magazine.

As soon as the flight levelled out the hostesses served drinks, then the meal, and afterwards Crystal snuggled under the complimentary blanket and tried to sleep away the five hour flight. The passenger sitting beside her had tried his best to engage Crystal in conversation during the meal and when she had told him that she was a showgirl working in a review in a casino the man’s interest piqued.

“Well you certainly have the looks and the legs for it,” the man had said flirtatiously and Crystal had just smiled.

“Is it true that a lot of showgirls make a lot of money on the side?” the man smiled at her salaciously.

Crystal interpreted the implication and resented the man inferring that she was a hooker.

“I wouldn’t know; it’s my first gig in Vegas,” she gave him a curt smile and shut down the conversation.

Crystal was just about to nod off when she felt the man’s hand slither under her blanket and touch her ass. She ignored it even when the man moved his hand to her thigh and began to stroke her spandex sheathed flesh. The cabin lights had been dimmed and the man was taking advantage of the situation and thinking Crystal was some bimbo showgirl decided he would help himself. Crystal could hear his heavy breathing and sensed the rise and fall of the man’s blanket as he masturbated himself while groping her.

The man’s hand moved between her legs and stroked her there. Her tuck was tight and the man thought he was stroking her ‘pussy’ through those lycra leggings. Crystal decided to play along. She rolled over so that she was facing the man and opened her legs a little to facilitate his groping. She opened an eye and winked at him and the man grinned at her and rubbed harder at what he thought was her pussy.

Crystal put her finger to her lips.

“Shh,” she whispered nodding at the other sleeping passengers.

The man nodded knowingly. He was about to join the ‘Mile High Club’ but they had to keep it secret from the hosties and the other passengers. The man sighed when Crystal’s hand snaked under his blanket and she took his puny little cock in her hand. It was only four inches fully erect but Crystal had seen smaller in her line of work so she didn’t think it was extraordinary.

She smiled at the man and licked her lips seductively and the man supressed a groan as Crystal softly stroked his throbbing cock.

He then supressed a scream when Crystal removed her hand from his shaft and gripped his scrotum and wrenched it. She squeezed it hard and the man felt like his testes were about to pop. His face was strained and sweat ran down his forehead and cheeks as he held a scream of agony inside him. He hissed and let out a low moan as Crystal twisted his testicles and then let them go.

She turned her back on him and went to sleep listening to the man moaning and whimpering softly. The man had a pronounced limp when he disembarked the aircraft and hobbled away down the concourse.

A limo picked Crystal up from the airport and drove her to the Ambassador Hotel where the concierge arranged for her to check in and had her bags sent up to her room. She was instructed to go to the office of Fred Winebrow, the casino manager and entertainment director, before she did anything else.

The front of house in the casino was all glitz and glamour but behind the scenes it was dusky and downtrodden. The Ambassador was an older casino that catered for middle-market patrons rather than the elite sophisticates and high rollers that frequented the more upmarket establishments.

Fred Winebrow appeared to be as dusky and downtrodden as the casino he managed with his ill-fitting cheap suit, front-porch belly and comb-over.

“Well aren’t you the little chickadee? Most of the female impersonators in the show only dress like women when they are performing,” Fred said by way of introduction.

“I thought you were a full-timer when we booked you under the name Crystal Greystone and there was no male name offered. You done this kinda work before?” Fred openly gawped at her appreciatively.

“I work the Pink Parrot nightclub back east as a performer and hostess but this show is a bigger production,” Crystal admitted.

“Not much to it. Do your show as usual, sing your set then join the girls for the chorus-line finalé. Show plenty of T and A, show off those legs, smile prettily and be friendly to the punters after the show. There’s a matinée, a supper show and a late show. Rehearsals start tomorrow at nine beginning with costume fitting. If you fuck a john up in your room you kick me back fifty, if you leave with him it’s still fifty. You got it toots?” Fred smiled at her with his crooked teeth.

“It was all explained to me by my manager but not the part about fucking the customers. I’m not a hooker,” Crystal said pleasantly enough.

She needed the job because Brett Beaumont was about to arrive in Las Vegas so she didn’t overreact.

“That’s up to you. Some of girls do, some don’t. I don’t care so long as I get my kickback,” Fred smirked.

“Ok thanks Mister Winebrow. I’d like to head up to my room now. It was a long flight and I’m tired,” Crystal picked up her travel bag.

“Hey, hey, hey missy, you forgot one thing,” Fred stepped between her and the door and openly leered at her.

“Really? That’s how it is?” Crystal sighed resignedly.

Fred nodded and unzipped his fly.

“All the showgirls give me a fuck or a blowjob when they first get here. Consider it your audition,” Fred chuckled.

“I don’t fuck the trannies very often but you’re something special Crystal,” Fred freed a rather large appendage that was bloated and ready to go.

Another time and another place Crystal would have given Fred Winebrow the same treatment she gave the man who groped her on the plane but Crystal was pragmatic. She had sex with men whom she despised when necessary for ‘the cause’; it was an essential weapon in her arsenal. Her job at the moment was to work at the Ambassador as a showgirl and lure Brett Beaumont into a honey trap.

“Ok Fred. It’s just this once so let’s get this over with and make sure you use this,” Crystal rummaged in her travel bag and produced a tube of K-Y Jelly.

Ever pragmatic, Crystal turned around and bent over Fred Winebrow’s cluttered desk and presented herself. Fred smiled and dropped trou; this girl had an ass to die for. Fred hooked his thumbs in the waistband of Crystal’s leggings and slid them down to her knees, her pert buttocks and long legs clad in the shimmering sheer pantyhose she wore under the tights were a magnificent sight and Fred stroked his cock to full tumescence.

He pushed his cock into the crevice between Crystal’s buttocks and rubbed it, delighting in the feel of her silky pantyhose on his sensitive staff. Fred put his hand between Crystal’s legs and found her tuck. He’d fucked a few of the trans showgirls over the years and he knew how they presented that perfect V in their crotch that so fascinated the audience. He rolled down her pantyhose and ripped away the tucking tape and then he pulled her pantyhose back up.

“You’re taking liberties Fred, just get it over with please,” Crystal wriggled her buttocks invitingly and Fred put his cock back on her ass and began to rub it.

Crystal’s testes had descended and her flaccid cock was pressed flat against her belly, held there by her pantyhose and Fred reached around her and began to stroke it. Crystal was only human and when Fred began to caress her penis through the gossamer fabric she began to become tumescent.

Fred grinned as he felt Crystal’s cock begin to swell and he pressed his cock into the crevice between her buttocks and Crystal obligingly pushed back. He reached for the lubricant and snagged a little hole in the back of Crystal’s pantyhose, smeared his cock with the emollient and pushed it through the hole, nestling his glans in Crystal's cute little pink puckered bud. He wiped his greasy hands on his pants and gripped Crystal’s hips and slowly slid his cock all the way inside her.

Not having to look at Fred’s rather unpleasant face and shabby fat body was a blessing in a way because Fred knew how to use his cock and bent over the desk like this Crystal was able to enjoy it without watching him. He was stroking her now fully-erect penis through her pantyhose while Fred’s cock slid in and out of her anus, his belly smacking on her buttocks as he fucked her.

Fred’s cock was the perfect girth and length and it ignited those wonderful little sparks of delight from her stretched sphincter and the bulbous head pressed on Crystal’s prostate and she began to leak precum which Fred rubbed into her cock as he massaged it.

Crystal let out a little whimper and Fred smiled and fucked her a little harder but not too much, he was enjoying fucking this long-legged transsexual. Her anus gripped his cock like a satin glove, she was tight but pliant and when she wriggled her buttocks it created a wondrous sensation that caused his cock to pulsate.

Crystal was actually enjoying being fucked but she was tired and ready for bed so she used all her tricks to trigger Fred’s climax: wiggling her bottom, clenching and unclenching her sphincter, moaning appreciatively, uttering little obscenities, and pushing back to meet his thrusts. All of this also increased her own pleasure and Fred’s fingers massaging her throbbing cock, smoothing the silky nylon along her steely shaft, was driving her own desires.

They climaxed together and Crystal’s knees buckled with the intensity of her orgasm. Fred held her up, pushing her into the desk, driving his cock all the way inside her tight anus as he spewed his glutinous issue deep in her bowel. Crystal felt Fred’s cock tremble as his hot seed filled her, his glans pressing on her prostate, his fingers squeezing her hard member and she swamped her pantyhose with creamy semen and her anus clenched tight around Fred’s thrusting cock as she came.

“Oh my!” Crystal’s verbal appreciation was understated; but only because her orgasm was so delicious and fulfilling.

Fred enjoyed the sensation of Crystal’s pantyhose sheathed ass pressing into his belly as he emptied his issue deep inside her back passage as it rhythmically quivered around his shaft. He’d really like to turn her around and kiss her pretty mouth but Fred was pragmatic and took his pleasures where and when he could. Crystal’s cock was filling his hand with her warm viscous spunk and the musky smell of sex filled his little office. Fred was a softy under his gruff exterior and he was glad the sexy young vixen had enjoyed herself when he fucked her.

Fred pulled his cock from Crystal’s ass with an audible plop and his cum dribbled from her distended sphincter. Ever the gentleman he dropped a box of Kleenex in front of her face and snatched a handful of tissues to wipe Crystal’s cum off his fingers before he pulled up his underpants and trousers. Crystal wiped away the semen leaking from her anus and consciously closed her sphincter then she dealt with the mess in the front of her pantyhose.

Having dried the front of her pantyhose and her cummy asshole as proficiently as possible under the circumstances, Crystal pulled up her pantyhose, tucked her genitals as best she could and then pulled up her pink spandex tights. Her tuck wasn't as tight as it was before but it was passable.

“Well that was fun,” Fred lit a cigarette and offered the pack to Crystal who took one and lit it.

“And that’s a onetime deal you said?” Crystal waved at the cloud of smoke surrounding her face.

“Honey, I get all the pussy I want from the girls who come in here applying for jobs in the casino. Every cocktail waitress, housemaid, cashier and even some of the hookers in Las Vegas dream of becoming a showgirl or they want to be a blackjack dealer or croupier. My dick is nearly worn to a stub,” Fred chuckled.

“I wouldn’t have bothered with you but you're so goddam pretty and you’re special. I don’t mind a little tranny tail now and then but yes honey, you’ve paid your dues,” Fred said almost dismissively, waving her away.

“Well good because I need to sleep,” Crystal dropped the tube of K-Y in her travel bag and took her leave.

Crystal was quietly surprised that her room was reasonably adequate. She’d expected it to be as shabby as the back of house given that the room was comped as part of her contract. She noted that the room had an interconnecting door to the adjoining suite and she wondered who lived next door. She showered quickly, washing away her makeup and the last of Fred Winebrow’s cum. She fell into bed exhausted and slept until seven the next day.

Crystal went down to rehearsals wearing a leotard, dance tights, heels and a t-shirt, her makeup light. She stopped to get a to-go coffee at the twenty-four-hour café; the clientele looking tired after a night of gambling and carousing. The casino theatre was called The Envoy Cabaret and the seating was arranged around small tables, giving the place the intimate ambiance of a nightclub. It seated an audience of around a hundred.

She followed the voices coming from back of stage and found the other girls in the dressing room. Including Crystal there were seven performers in the Boys Will Be Girls Spectacular. Five of them were male drag queens and there was one other transwoman. The men were getting out of their male attire and putting on tights and heels for the rehearsals. There wasn’t a straight man in the house.

Crystal introduced herself to the other girls briefly and then met up with the producer and costume designer. For her solo act she had brought her own evening gown and a brunette bouffant wig that she wore at the Pink Parrot which the producer and designer inspected and gave a nod of approval. For the finale, the all-girl review performed as a chorus line all wearing the same costume consisting of a red and black jacquard push-up corset with hook and eye front and lace-up back. The bustier was worn with a blue satin jacket, white full-cut panties, a feathered headpiece and rhinestoned fishnet dance tights over sheer pantyhose and black high-heeled dance shoes. Crystal sarcastically thought the red, white and blue ensemble very patriotic.

The girls all wore matching blonde wigs provided with the costume. Crystal had already provided her measurements and the designer fitted her in the tight costume and fussed around adjusting it and made notes as to where it needed to be let out and taken in. The cost of the ensemble was taken out of the girls wages but at least they got to keep them after the show.

“I’ll have this ready for a final fitting tomorrow before the dress rehearsal,” the designer scurried away with the costume.

The rest of the morning was spent with the choreographer. Crystal was allotted her placement at the end of the chorus line because she was so tall. The other trans girl had a very similar stature and took the spot at the other ned of the chorus line. The other six girls were veterans of the show and had the choreo down pat. It was simple and consisted mainly of high-kicks, sashays, shimmies and shakes, more burlesque than dance and it didn’t take Crystal long to get it right.

After a light lunch the girls rehearsed their individual acts. Crystal and Michelle Dupree, the other trans girl, had solo singing numbers, one of the queens did racy stand-up comedy, two did choreographed lip-synchs which included death-drops, splits and other gymnastics and the other two did a Mutt and Jeff comedy double routine.

It was obvious to Crystal that the others viewed her as an outsider; an interloper brought in by Fred Winebrow to fill a vacant position. Crystal didn’t mind. She didn’t want to get to know the drag queens outside of their professional employment. This operation would go smoother if Crystal remained alone and detached from the others.

Michelle Dupree was a different kettle of fish and seemed to see Crystal Greystone as some sort of soul sister and invited her to get a drink together after the rehearsal. It turned out that Michelle had the room adjoining Crystal’s.

Crystal and Michelle perched themselves in a far corner of the L-shaped cocktail bar and both ordered beers. They were thirsty after the rehearsal.

“Don’t worry about the other girls, they’ve been a troupe since the review started and you’re new, they’ll warm to you,” Michelle smiled.

The other ‘girls’, were all men who performed as drag queens but it was common in the business for drag queens to refer to each other using the female vernacular.

“That’s fine. I’m just a temporary replacement; the girls at the Pink Parrot can be just as bitchy,” Crystal smiled warmly.

None of the other girls would warm to Crystal if they knew that it was a KGB operative who had staged the accident that caused the drag queen missing from the review to break her leg which created the opportunity for Crystal to be offered the vacant position.

“Can I ask you a personal question?” Michelle leaned in and Crystal could smell her perfume and a little perspiration; they were still dressed in their dance tights and leotards.

Crystal nodded and took a long sip of her ice-cold beer.

“Are you a transwoman? It’s just, I notice, if you don’t me saying, that you are still using breastforms and don’t appear to have had any surgery,” Michelle blushed a little.

Crystal was ready for the question. Her backstory had been crafted and practiced with her handler.

“You know how hard it is to transition and I’m not just talking about the prejudice and misinformation. I’m under the care of a psychiatrist who is supportive of my need to become a woman but before he will approve any surgeries he wants me to live full-time as a woman for an extended period to prove to him and myself that I’m not making a mistake,” Crystal lied.

“But you can just… you know. There are places overseas where you can go and get surgery and hormones,” Michelle whispered looking carefully around the quiet bar.

“I know that but I promised myself I’d do it this way and have my psychiatrist confirm that the feelings and urge I have to transition are real. I don’t want to go to Mexico or Asia and come back a woman and then find I’ve made a huge mistake,” Crystal said sagely.

“That’s noble of you. I couldn’t wait. I went abroad and had the procedures and came back and had to go through the process of changing my identity. I got a good lawyer and on all of my identity documents except my birth certificate I’m identified as female,” Michelle explained.

“Transforming cost me my friends and family. No one from my old life wants anything to do with me and my family have disowned me. My tribe is now with the gays and other transwomen,” Michelle said, speaking sadly.

“Now a question for you. Have you fully transitioned? Is that real or that a very good tuck?” Crystal glanced down at Michelle’s crotch and grinned.

Michelle laughed raucously, causing some of the clientele to turn their way and admire the two heavily made-up women dressed in dance attire sitting at the corner of the bar.

Michelle reached out and squeezed Crystal’s forearm gently.

“It’s a tuck honey. That’s why I’m working in Vegas as a showgirl. As soon as I’ve saved enough money I’m going to get vaginoplasty and that’s me done,” Michelle said with some finality.

“Look you’re young. What are you? Early twenties? I’m only twenty-five myself. My tentet is to enjoy life while you can so don’t wait too long to transition if you feel it’s right for you. Leave the bottom surgery until last and then if it turns out that you were wrong about your identity you can always transition back. I’ve known a couple of queens who have done it,” Michelle said sagely.

“Is the lecture over now? Can we have a real drink?” Crystal took Michelle’s hand in hers and kissed the back of it overdramatically and grinned.

Michelle laughed raucously again and nodded.

“Two gin and tonics here please barman,” she called out.

“And I’m paying,” a middle-aged lothario called out as he weaved his way through the chairs and tables followed by two other men.

“Like moths to a flame,” Michelle chuckled.

“That is one advantage of being a woman. You never pay for your drinks,” she said and they both laughed.

*****

Las Vegas Nevada, March 1985

Crystal had no real interest in establishing a relationship with Michelle Dupree but when she made her daily report to Steven Boland, always from a public payphone, he advised Crystal to befriend Michelle but of course to keep their relationship perfunctory. It would help Crystal’s cause to have a friend of similar leanings and orientation. It was best that she was not seen as a loner which might draw suspicion in a town like Las Vegas where everyone partied.

Costumes were fitted, rehearsals were finalised and photographs were taken of the cast, both individually and as an ensemble. In-house marketing commissioned banners and advertising posters. A billboard was erected outside of the casino and flyers and posters were distributed throughout hotel lobbies, bars and restaurants along The Strip. The show was ready to open for its second season with Crystal Greystone now in the troupe.

More importantly the KGB operative working at the Lawrence Livermore Laboratory reported that the Project Excalibur team were making final preparations to relocate to the Nevada test site to observe the Cottage test and Brett Beaumont was heading to Las Vegas to blow off some steam ahead of them.

Indeed Brett Beaumont was driving along the I-15 in his cherry-red Oldsmobile Cutlass Supreme two-door convertible with the top down. He was blatantly ignoring the double-nickel speed limit posted on this stretch of the highway and was in flagrant violation of the open container law. He figured if he was arrested or incarcerated he would soon be released and the violation expunged because he was just too important to the nation’s national defence program and he was right.

Brett was a frequent transgressor of both the law and the Lawrence Livermore Laboratory code of conduct but he was always given a pass because his brilliance and expertise in X-ray laser technology was unsurpassed. He liked to drink, gamble and fornicate and bend the rules. This was tolerated by the project directors but frowned upon by the military and government agencies involved in the project who considered him a security risk.

Brett Beaumont knew about the security detail that followed him whenever he was working on Project Excalibur outside of the Lawrence Livermore Laboratory complex but so long as the contracted security agent remained discreet and did not interfere with Brett’s fun he didn’t care. In his own head he was a white night or Shakespeare’s ‘Hal’ whose inordinate and low desires and yearning for ale-houses and brothels hid portents of a man destined for greatness on the world’s stage.

In other words Brett Beaumont was a brilliant narcissist hell-bent on lechery.

He arrived at the Stardust Resort and Casino, dropped his car with the valet and breezed through the VIP check-in and promptly fell asleep on the enormous bed and slept off a twenty-four binge which included drinking a fifth of Jack Daniel's Old No.7 Tennessee Whiskey during the long drive.

Brett woke up ravenous and had a late breakfast in his suite washed down with two Bloody Marys then he went down to the gaming rooms and won, and then he lost, and then he won again. He also won the admiration of the cocktail waitresses and dealers who he tipped very handsomely.

He went back to his room to change for dinner and found that the concierge had left an envelope containing a complementary ticket for the Boys Will Be Girls Spectacular. He inspected the accompanying flyer and thought it would be fun to see the troupe of female impersonators. If the pictures on the flyer did them any justice the female impersonators were unclockable as anything other than beautiful women. This could be very interesting, thought the man whose tastes in bed partners were very eclectic.

Crystal had simply bribed the concierge at the Stardust with cash to have the ticket sent to Brett’s room. The concierge had wanted a blowjob too and Crystal promised him one if Brett attended the show.

Brett entered the The Envoy Cabaret at the Ambassador Hotel and was led to his seat at a small intimate table just as the house lights dimmed. He drank champagne, suffering through the support acts and then the Spectacular began. The women were indeed beautiful with their pretty faces, coiffed hair, cinched waists and long legs; there was no way to tell them from the real thing. In fact some of them were uber-feminised, almost too realistic, like mannequins or life-like dolls.

Then Crystal Greystone came out on stage and the spotlight hit her. She stood still, looking down at her feet and then she raised her beautiful face and gazed at the audience. She was tall and her legs were long and shapely and sheathed in sheer flesh-toned nylons, she was wide hipped and slim waisted, her shoulders narrow. In the red satin evening gown, split to the waist, you would never guess that it wasn’t a woman under that glitz and glamour.

Crystal began to sing Anyone Who Knows What Love Is and her eyes seemed locked on Brett Beaumont’s throughout the performance. He felt as if she was singing the beautiful ballad just for him. She finished the song to raucous applause and blew kisses to the audience which Brett of course believed were all for him.

The other queens were entertaining and he was taken with Michelle Dupree’s solo performance, she was the other standout in the ensemble beside Crystal. The closing number had all the girls in a chorus line, singing and dancing and Brett sought out Crystal and found her at the end. His eyes locked on her and she seemed to be smiling directly at him.

The show was completed with an encore and then the MC advised the audience that the girls were getting changed for a meet-and-greet and would be happy to mingle with the audience to have their photographs taken and sign autographs. It was another scam conjured up by Fred Winebrow to milk every penny from the performers. The girls didn’t receive any of the profits from the meet-and-greet but it was compulsory, the obligation buried in the fine print of their contracts.

Those queens who moonlighted as hookers saw it as an opportunity to pick up a john but to the others it was a chore and being opening night with the new line-up, a big crowd had remained behind for the meet-and-greet.

Crystal came out in a black mini-skirted cocktail dress with sheer shiny flesh-toned pantyhose and black fuck-me pumps, her makeup heavy, her shag bob styled with burgundy highlights faming her pretty face. As the newest member of the ensemble she drew a lot of attention, posed for a lot of photographs and signed a lot of autographs for men who were very handsy and women who were jealous of her.

Brett Beaumont hung back and bided his time waiting for most of the crowd to disperse. When Crystal was finally alone he made a beeline for her but just before he got to her Crystal was approached by another member of the ensemble, a pretty girl from the review of similar build to Crystal with pixie-cut cherry-red hair with copper highlights and swept bangs. She had a school-girl body shape with narrow shoulders and hips and long shapely legs. Her silver lame mini-dress clung to her leggy frame. Brett recognised her from the performance and she and Crystal were talking animatedly.

He was not perturbed and broke into the conversation and introduced himself.

“Professor Brett Beaumont ladies, may I say that you were both spectacular,” Brett said by way of introduction.

Crystal lowered her eyes demurely, smiled and whispered thank you. Michelle just glared at him.

“Rather rude of you Mister Beaumont, my friend and I were having a private conversation,” Michelle gave him a sardonic grin, deliberately using the title ‘Mister’ rather than ‘Professor’.

“You’re Crystal Greystone and you’re Michelle Dupree, at least according to this advertising flyer,” Brett waved the flyer like it was a fan.

“As I said, we are having a private conversation,” Michelle glared at Brett’s impertinence.

“I paid extra for the meet-and-greet so therefore I expect to meet and greet you missy,” Brett snapped back.

Crystal was pissed at Michelle; this was not how her first meeting with Brett Beaumont was supposed to play out but she didn’t show any emotion.

“Excuse me Michelle. Follow me over here Professor Beaumont and you can have your meet-and-greet and autograph and I’ll have the photographer take a picture of us together should you so desire,” Crystal took Brett's hand and led him to a quiet corner leaving Michelle fuming at being snubbed.

“Professor Beaumont is my father, please call me Brett,” Brett smiled at Crystal and openly gawped at her from head to toe.

“Are sure you're not a girl,” he smiled at Crystal like schoolboy would smile at a girl he fancied in homeroom.

“I’m whatever you want me to be Brett. The term transgender woman is becoming popular, some call me a transsexual, others call me names I’d rather not repeat,” Crystal smiled at him wryly.

“Michelle and I live full-time as women, the other girls only dress like women to perform,” Crystal further explained.

“But you called them girls?” Brett looked a little confused.

“When they are in drag, presenting enfemme, they call each other girls. It’s confusing to outsiders but not to us,” Crystal took Brett's flyer from him and scribbled a practiced signature on it that was nothing like her real signature.

A handwriting analyst would have a hard time matching the signature to Kyle Gordon’s handwriting. Crystal would have to play a delicate game. If things worked out as she hoped, it would be impossible for her not leave evidence of her interaction with Brett Beaumont, but she intended to leave as little as possible.

“Why don’t we blow this scene honey? You wanna go and get a drink?” Brett smiled at Crystal, focussing his charm on her.

Crystal looked around and saw that most of the other performers had left, some of them in the company of male patrons. Fred Winebrow stood off to one side dressed in a threadbare tux looking like a caricature of Batman’s The Penguin nursing a drink and taking in every nuance. He’d know which of the girls had picked up johns out of the crowd.

“I’m just going to be up front about this Brett just so your expectations are managed. I don’t moonlight as a hooker,” Crystal looked him in the eyes.

Brett gave her what her hoped was his best killer grin.

“I’m just asking you to join me for drink Crystal. We can take it from there, play it by ear so to speak,” his eyes sparkled.

There was no doubt that Brett Beaumont was handsome, confident and used to getting his way. It was also evident that he had money, his suit was expensive and meticulously tailored, his fingernails were manicured and his hair cut and styled perfectly. His gold cufflinks and tiepin were embellished with emeralds and his shoes were designer. A lot of women would have found all that glitz attractive and many a girl had undoubtedly succumbed to his charm and his killer smile.

“Sure; we can go for a drink,” Crystal picked up her handbag and he guided her though the thinning crowd to the door and into the lobby.

The casino staff hailed Brett a town car and be tipped the valet generously and held the door for Crystal and appreciated the acres of leg she displayed getting into the back seat. They chatted pleasantly about the show as the car made its way to the Stardust Resort and Casino where Crystal knew that Brett was staying but he had failed to mention to her. They were just going for a drink but the venue just happened to be at Brett’s hotel. Crystal smiled to herself, Brett was hedging his bets.

They drank champagne in the Starlight Lounge, Brett sipping not gulping because he was hoping to score and wanted make sure he could perform. Crystal let Brett lead the conversation which moved on from the show and focussed on her and she provided him with a backstory that would stand up to investigation. Crystal had spotted the tail at the The Envoy Cabaret and he had followed them and was sitting far enough away from them not to attract attention but close enough to keep them under surveillance.

Crystal assumed that the tail was Secret Service, US Marshal Service or possibly a private contractor. In any event he wasn't trying too hard to be inconspicuous. It was most likely the case that the assigned security service wanted foreign operatives to know that Beaumont had security assigned to him to warn them away.

Crystal deliberately stayed away from questioning Brett as to what he was doing in Las Vegas and what he did for a living; she let him assume that she assumed that he was just another business professional in town for good time. She knew that someone with Brett’s ego wouldn’t be able to wait too long without talking about himself.

“You haven’t asked me any personal questions Crystal, all we have spoken about is you. Aren't you interested?” Brett finally went there.

“Let me guess,” Crystal smiled at him a little cheekily and seductively, her eyes sparkled and she took a generous sip of champagne.

“Businessman, but nothing tawdry, probably a banker or an investment or securities broker, possibly a high-end stockbroker or something corporate? Am I even close?” Crystal grinned.

“Nowhere near it,” Brett chuckled.

“I’m a scientist. A very special kind of scientist,” Brett said soberly.

“Never!” Crystal looked appropriately impressed.

“Wait! Are you an inventor? Did you invent something that made a lot of money?” Crystal played the dumb showgirl.

Brett made a show of looking around to see if anyone was listening.

“Nowhere near it again. I’m a nuclear scientist who specialises in X-ray lasers. I’m in town to blow off a little steam before I head out into the desert to oversee some tests,” Brett said very self-importantly.

“But that’s all I can tell you. The rest is classified,” he said smugly waiving at a waitress to bring them another bottle of champagne.

Crystal could see why the Government considered Brett Beaumont a security risk. He was using his position to big note himself to a pretty young showgirl whom he had only just met. Crystal went goo-goo eyed and behaved like she was suitably impressed.

“Should we take this second bottle up to my room?” Brett asked, putting his hand on Crystal’s knee.

He wasn’t much of a seducer. He was blunt and over-confident but that suited Crystal’s purpose.

“I have rehearsals at nine tomorrow and it’s already late but I suppose I can come up for one drink,” Crystal gave him her best killer smile and Brett grinned like a Cheshire cat.

Brett tipped the waitress and asked her to have the champagne sent up to his room and accompanied Crystal to the elevators. Crystal watched Brett’s security detail look over at them and then look at his watch. The man would have seen Brett pick up Crystal at the meet-and-greet and made the assessment that Crystal was like a hundred other showgirls and hookers that Brett had bedded whenever he went gallivanting and as soon as he sure that Brett was tucked up in his room he would call it night.

In the elevator Brett closed in on Crystal and took her in his arms and kissed her. Crystal allowed him to do so and returned the kiss but not too passionately, just enough to let Brett know that she was interested.

Brett was excited. He’d never been with a transwoman before and this was going to be a little daunting but also exhilarating. This girl looked like a woman, she felt like a woman, she smelled like a woman but he knew that underneath that cocktail dress she was unique.

The champagne arrived just after he led Crystal into his suite and Crystal made the appropriate platitudes regarding how impressive his VIP suite was and settled herself on a white leather divan while Brett poured drinks. He’d taken off his tie, jacket and shoes and was relaxed, looking forward to a pleasant evening.

Crystal kicked off her heels and folded her feet under her and reposed, all the time checking the hotel room layout against the plans she had memorised. Everything was pretty much as per the floor plan, importantly she had caught a glimpse of the room safe under the writing desk and confirmed that it was the type that locked with a four-digit code. A quick scan around the room revealed that Brett might be loose with his tongue but he adhered to physical security protocols. There were no classified documents left lying around.

“So tell me, what's a nice girl like you doing a place like this?” Brett said cheesily as he sat down beside her.

“I’m being seduced by a mad scientist,” Crystal grinned at him.

“How do you know my intent is to seduce you?” Brett leaned in close and Crystal kissed him.

The kiss lingered and soon tongue was introduced and they lay down on the chaise lounge and cuddled and canoodled. Crystal lay on her back and Brett straddled her, kissing her, stroking her cheek and then he moved his hand down her torso to her breasts.

“There’s nothing there for you honey. They’re fake,” Crystal chuckled.

“They feel real,” Brett smiled at her.

“The best silicon breastforms that money can buy; give me a sec,” Crystal disengaged for a minute and carefully removed her breastforms.

“Now you see the real flat-chested me,” Crystal laughed.

“You look like flapper but that’s ok I’m a leg man anyway,” Brett put his hand on Crystal’s calf and stroked it.

“Well they're real,” Crystal smiled at him.

“They're magnificent,” Brett traced a finger from her calf to the top of her thigh, stropping when he came to the hem of her dress.

“May I?” Brett was wide eyed.

“Help yourself honey,” Crystal said seductively.

Brett slid his fingers under the hem of Crystal’s dress and slowly and sensuously slid the dress up her thighs. As more leg came into view, shrouded in the silky transparent nylons, Brett’s cock became harder. Her stockings felt wonderfully seductive, so smooth and silky; her legs were long and lithe.

Crystal just lay there amused and let Brett stroke and caress her legs.

Brett gasped when he finally lifted her dress up to where her legs joined her torso. He traced his fingertips along the little wrinkles in her pantyhose and then lightly caressed her pubis. He liked the look and feel of her black satin panties and admired how they clung to her crotch which was smooth and curved but featureless like a Barbie Doll.

“Where is it?” Brett grinned at Crystal and leaned into her and kissed her softly while his fingers stroked her pubis and thighs.

Crystal was becoming uncomfortably tumescent so now was the perfect time to reveal her secret.

“It’s a secret. Where do you think it is?” Crystal smiled at him and kissed him quickly.

“It must be here,” Brett smiled and pushed his hand between Crystal’s legs.

Making a game out it removed any apprehension or nervousness that Brett might feel about caressing a woman who had male genitalia. He found Crystal’s semi-erect penis lying along her perineum, held snug by her pantyhose and panties.

“When I’m on stage performing or wearing a leotard or swimsuit I tape it. For now it’s just my pantyhose holding it there,” Crystal explained.

“Can I take it out,” Brett said eagerly.

“Are you sure it won’t spoil the illusion?” Crystal asked.

“I want to see it,” Brett sulked.

“Then have at it honey,” Crystal smiled and opened her legs a little.

Brett slipped his fingers inside the waistband of Crystal's sheer-to-the-waist pantyhose and pushed his fingers into her crotch where he found her long sleek penis between her legs. He pried it free and it sprang upright along her lower belly, held there by her panties and pantyhose.

“Just give me a second,” Crystal grunted as she arched her back and lifted herself off the lounge a little and pushed down with her diaphragm and her testes descended into her scrotum and Brett felt them fill the sac.

“How do you do that?” he was amazed.

“Honey, I’ve been sitting on a secret all night,” Crystal giggled and Brett laughed along with her until she pulled his face to hers and kissed him passionately and started to unbuckle his belt.

Brett became impatient and he stood up and shucked out of his remaining clothing so that he was naked then he lay on the lounge beside Crystal and took up where he had left off caressing her thighs. His cock was hard and he pressed it against her leg, enjoying the sensation of her sleek nylons of the sensitive skin of his cock.

Crystal lay there passively letting Brett fondle her and rut against her, their kisses soft and sensuous. Brett's inquisitiveness returned and his fingers found their way to the bulge in her panties and he tentatively stroked Crystal’s cock. He could feel the outline of her hard cock through the nylon and satin. He could feel it pulse and quiver as it became fully hard.

“Am I doing it right?” Brett asked.

“What do you think?” Crystal smiled at him seductively and closed her hand over his and guided it back to her hard prick.

She opened her lips and slipped her tongue into Brett's mouth and reached for his manhood. She caressed his long thick cock, admiring the girth of it.

“I never thought I’d be so turned on by a cock but only because it’s attached to you and it looks so cute clothed in those shiny panties,” Brett caressed Crystal’s cock and she shuddered with delight.

“You’ve got quite the nice appendage too dear,” Crystal stroked Brett’s quivering flesh and a bead of precum formed at the eye.

“I wanna try something kinky,” Brett said and lay on top of Crystal and pressed his cock against hers.

He kissed her and she put her arms around him and lifted her legs and locked them around his waist. He loved the feel of her pantyhose on his tender flesh.

His cock pressed on Crystal’s through the fabric of her slinky panties and hose and they both enjoyed the sensation of cock rubbing on cock. Their kisses became more passionate and then frenetic as they rutted against each other. Crystal raked her nails down Brett’s back and buffed her silky-hosed legs against Brett’s flanks; he pressed down on her, grinding his cock against hers, relishing the sensations.

“I’m going to come,” Crystal whispered into Brett's ear as she felt her climax welling up from deep inside her.

Her scrotum was roiling; full of semen, ready to release her load. Brett’s cock was tingling with delight as he rubbed it faster against Crystal’s panty-clad phallus. He felt his orgasm begin to build.

Brett broke the kiss and pushed himself up with his forearms so he could see their cocks frotting against each other and Crystal shuddered and Brett smiled when he saw a globule of warm semen bubble through her panties. He rubbed his cock in the puddle of spunk and smeared it all over her panties and then he ejaculated too and his own seed comingled with hers as his orgasm washed over him.

Crystal pulled him down and smashed her lips against his and drove her tongue into Brett’s mouth as she writhed and wriggled beneath him, pressing her cock against his as it juddered and spewed forth her creamy issue. The feel of Brett’s quivering organ spilling his seed on her pantied penis was ecstatic.

The two lovers kissed and cuddled and rutted and ground against each other, their cocks smeared with each other’s warm semen. Even after their orgasms had subsided they lay in each other’s arms and kissed and caressed each other.

Finally Brett climbed off Crystal and he gazed at the mess they had made. The front of her panties was sodden with cum, the bulge a little smaller now that her cock was flaccid.

“Wow that was amazing and we didn’t even fuck!” Brett chuckled.

“We can do that next time,” Crystal smiled up at him.

“Aren't you staying the night?” Brett sounded disappointed.

“I have rehearsals and a matinée tomorrow honey and I need my beauty sleep,” Crystal sighed.

“I only have one more night in Vegas before I have to head out to the test site,” Brett sounded whiney and Crystal had to keep her smile forced.

“But you’re coming back through here after the test though?” Crystal tried not to sound too inquisitive.

“You’re damn right I am and I want to see you again honey,” Brett was picking up his discarded clothing up off the floor.

“You go ahead and get cleaned up. I want to take off my dress so I don’t get spunk on it. I’ll clean up after you,” Crystal smiled up at him and Brett nodded and padded off to the bathroom.

Crystal shot bold upright and ripped off her dress, dropped her cum-soaked panties and raced across the room to where Brett had left his keycard on the sideboard. She opened her handbag and slipped the card into a card reader and waited until the little red diode turned green, anxiously watching the bathroom door. She heard Brett turn off the taps and she tossed the card back on the sideboard and snatched up her dress, breastforms and panties.

Brett made a grab for Crystal as she walked past him to use bathroom, she looked so sexy wearing just her pantyhose but she evaded him and made it into the bathroom where she used a damp towel to wipe away as much semen as possible from her pantyhose crotch, then she dried it as best as could and tucked her cock under her perineum. Her panties were too cum-soaked to wear and she found a baggie under the sink and put the panties inside it and tossed them in her purse. She slipped her breastforms into her bra cups, shimmied into her dress, fixed her lipstick and hair and exited the bathroom to find Brett wearing a bathrobe and drinking champagne.

“That was fun honey but I have to go,” Crystal walked over to him and kissed the side of his mouth.

“But we didn’t really fuck,” Brett whined.

“I told you; next time. I’m not going anywhere and you know where to find me,” she kissed the tip of his nose playfully and scooched out of the way when he reached for her.

Crystal took a car back to the Ambassador Hotel and Casino and stayed up long enough to make a copy of the keycard to Brett’s hotel room door then she used a payphone in the lobby to update Stephan Boriliski on her progress.

To be continued

Author's Note: I would deeply appreciate a comment or two as a scant reward for my efforts. An intellectual once wrote: "Writing should almost always be a communication between writer and reader, and therefore feedback is the best way to sample how that communication is developing"

DuPont Circle neighbourhood, Washington D.C. March 1985

Wendy Meakins leaned against the bar at the Pink Parrot nightclub. It was close to 1am but that was early at the Parrot which had a twenty-four hour liquor licence and usually didn’t close the door until 4am.

Wesley had finished his day job at 5pm and pottered around window shopping until six before heading home for a very light dinner in front of the television. The news that night was boring, the lead story being that Mikhail Gorbachev had become General Secretary of the Soviet Communist Party and de facto leader of the Soviet Union which interested Wesley not at all.

Wesley was in the bedroom transforming into Wendy when a late-breaking story announced that a U.S. Army military intelligence officer named Arthur D. Nicholson had been shot by Soviet army sergeant Aleksandr Ryabtsev at a Soviet military base in Ludwigslust, East Germany.

In her sixties and still battling her weight Wendy was still a fetching woman and made the most of her curves and swerves. She was wearing a black sequined evening gown, the waist cinched to give her an hourglass figure and to push up her breasts which were ample enough that she had no need to use breastforms. Her shapely legs were clad in gossamer flesh-toned pantyhose over which she wore full-cut body-shaper panties. Her pretty face was framed by a big blonde bouffant.

Wendy had just finished a set on stage and was nursing a gin and tonic when she was approached by handsome man in his thirties.

“What’s a nice girl like you doing in a place like this,” he grinned at her.

“Does that line ever work?” she smiled back at him.

“Never,” the man laughed and Wendy couldn’t help but laugh along with him.

Wendy was pragmatic. Most of the girls in the club were far younger, a lot slimmer and some were prettier than her and she seldom hooked up with handsome young gentlemen like the one talking to her now. She fully expected that he would engage in some light banter and move onto one of the other queens.

She was a little surprised when the man, who introduced himself as Liam Dresser, invited her to join him in a booth for drinks. When not performing, the queens at the Pink Parrot were expected to wait tables and entertain the clientele, encouraging them to spend big on drinks. If any of the girls hooked up that was fine by management but there was to be no sex on the premises although many a customer had been blown in the unisex toilets either for fun or profit.

Wendy was at first wary of Liam suspecting that he was a ‘chubby chaser’ or just talking to her to loosen up before he went after one of the younger queens but he seemed genuinely taken with her. He was complimentary without being mawkish and was genuinely interested in what she had to say.

She told him most of her life story: how she had always known that she was gay and had been drawn to the theatre to express her feminine side, although she had no ambition to transition she loved presenting herself as Wendy and performing and entertaining.

By now Liam had his hand on Wendy’s thigh and was softly stroking it and had stolen a kiss or two. His hand slid further up her thigh and he kissed her passionately using his tongue quite proficiently. They drank some more and Wendy performed her last set which Liam complemented her on and then looked at his watch. It was getting on for 3am but as it was Saturday and Wendy didn’t have to work her day job.

“Do you have somewhere?” Liam asked her.

“What about your hotel?” Wendy countered.

“Well I don’t mind at all but I thought you might not want to do the walk of shame when you walk through the hotel lobby later this afternoon still dressed in your evening gown and high heels,” Liam smiled at her cheekily.

“Why would I be leaving your hotel so late?” Wendy teased.

“Because once I get you into bed I don’t intend to let you go until I’m done with you and I have a very veracious appetite,” Liam’s hand slipped inside Wendy’s dress and across the front of her panties.

Ever pragmatic Wendy was in fact only teasing Liam. The logistics of it all made sense that she take him to her place.

“We can go to my place,” Wendy leaned in and kissed him.

“But only if you behave yourself,” she giggled after they broke their kiss.

“Absolutely not,” Liam squeezed her thigh and kissed her again.

They hailed a late running taxi to Wendy’s apartment and Liam paid and he had also settled their tab at the Pink Parrot. Although they were enjoying each other’s company, Liam seemed intent on implying that it was a business transaction and Wendy had no quarrel with that. She would have gladly taken Liam home for nothing but if he insisted on paying she was not going to refuse the extra income.

She settled Liam down for a drink and excused herself. She went into her bedroom and removed her dress and foundation garments and then went to her ensuite bathroom where she douched and freshened her makeup and perfume. She left her cincher, full-cut body-shaper, panties and pantyhose on the bedroom floor and stepped into sheer flesh-toned hold-up stockings and transparent white panties. She didn’t bother tucking because she was dressing for sex not for aesthetics.

She threw on a gauzy black negligee trimmed with red lace and slipped into her black strappy fuck-me-pumps. She gave herself the onceover in her full-length mirror and patted her little pot belly and once again promised to start dieting but agreed with herself that she was still not too shabby for an old broad.

Liam took the opportunity to wander around Wendy’s flat. He flicked through some mail left on the hallstand and saw that it was mostly addressed to Wesley Meakins except for a couple of advertising fliers.

There were framed photographs of Wesley, one of him very much younger dressed in a navy Petty Officer’s uniform and other more recent holiday snaps. He saw no pictures of family but there were a few of Wesley presenting as Wendy. One was a professional glamour shot of her for promotional purposes he presumed and another of Wendy with the girls from the Pink Parrot. There was also a framed picture of Wendy with a taller, younger, strikingly attractive woman with creamy white skin, long legs sporting a blonde updo that could only be a wig. Dressed in a spangled evening dress with heavy makeup she had to be another Pink Parrot girl.

Scrawled at the bottom of the frame was Crystal and Wendy best friends forever with a bright red lipstick kiss beside the inscription.

Liam noticed that the guest bathroom was in use and had male toiletries and grooming aids. He guessed correctly that ‘Wendy’ used the master bedroom ensuite and ‘Wesley’ used the guest bathroom to separate his two personas.

Liam smiled beatifically at Wendy when she came out of her bedroom and stood up to greet her. Wendy walked straight into his arms and they dispensed with the small talk and began to kiss and fondle each other. Liam particularly liked squeezing her ample buttocks through those sexy panties. Wendy was braless and Liam was able to caress her breasts which were a healthy B-cup. Her nipples hardened to his touch and she gasped into his open mouth when he tweaked them.

Liam walked her backwards into the bedroom and allowed Wendy to undress him. She took her time, teasing him, leaving his underpants until last, stroking his bulging manhood through his cotton Jockeys before removing them.

Wendy dropped to her knees and enveloped Liam’s erect penis in her mouth. A very experienced fellatrix; she worked her lips up and down the sleek veiny shaft and used her tongue on his glans and fraenulum.

“Oh, so good,” Liam sighed.

The feel of Wendy’s warm, wet mouth on his penis was very satisfying and as Wendy licked, sucked and slurped his cock Liam felt his scrotum contract in preparation for ejaculation. He didn’t want to come too soon and although they had all morning to enjoy each other he wanted to come the first time while he was fucking her.

Liam lifted Wendy to her feet and she was a little disappointed to be taken away from his magnificent manhood but when he kissed her and drove his tongue into her mouth and began to stroke her cock through her gauzy panties she forgave him. She relished the feel of his fingers stroking and squeezing her through her gossamer panties and began to dribble pre-ejaculate into them.

She reached for Liam’s cock and reciprocated, stroking him back to full tumescence. They were content to kiss and fondle one and another for a while as their smouldering passion began to build to burning lust. Liam finally pushed Wendy onto the bed and lay on top her ample body and she obligingly wrapped her arms around his shoulders and her stocking-sheathed legs around his torso to hold him close as they kissed and rubbed their cocks together.

The feel of his cock rubbing on Wendy’s phallus through her slinky drawers was delightfully lewd and decadent. Liam didn’t consider himself gay but he had a penchant for transvestites and transgender women which he kept a closely guarded secret.

The taste of Wendy’s sweet breath and her lipstick in his mouth and the pungent smell of her perfume added to her femininity and he was not one bit turned off by her size; he liked his women to have some meat on their bones. In fact he opened Wendy’s negligee and explored her breasts with his mouth, suckling her teats and nibbling her nipples which caused ringlets of pleasure to radiate from Wendy’s bosom. She coddled his head while he nursed her breasts moving from one to the other to keep her satisfied.

While he sucked on her tits his cock was still rubbing on Wendy’s hard stubby appendage and Wendy’s panties were saturated with precum from the two hard phalluses. She was nearly overcome with the pleasure radiating from her cock and her tits and was well and truly ready to be fucked and Liam was well and truly ready to fuck her.

There was an awkward break in formalities while Wendy scrambled around the bedside table feeling for the KY-Jelly but applying the slick salve to Liam’s cock soon brought it back to full tumescence and he gazed down upon the lovely mature woman and smiled at her lovingly as he eased aside the gusset of her panties and nestled his glans in her puckered bud. Wendy pushed two pillows under her ample buttocks and lifted her legs to make things easier and more comfortable and she whimpered with pleasure as Liam slowly impaled her on his hard cock.

Liam cupped Wendy’s bountiful buttocks and felt his cock slide easily into her tight anus and he sighed as he pushed it all the way in to the hilt and leaned down and kissed her after watching her pretty face light up with desire and longing. He drove his tongue into her mouth and she wriggled it in time with his thrusts. He squeezed her ass and she mewed with pleasure.

Wendy wrapped her legs around Liam’s waist and rose up to meet him as he fucked her, Liam's passion was building as he fucked her harder and harder.

Wendy raked her nails down his back and dug her high heels into his flanks encouraging Liam to fuck her harder and he obliged. She could feel his cock swelling inside her as the intensity of their fucking became frenetic. Liam could feel Wendy’s anus clinging to his pulsing dick as he rammed it in and out of her tight hole; it felt like his cock was being squeezed by gentle fingers in a satin glove.

He could contain himself no longer and he pushed Wendy down on the bed and drove his cock all the way inside her and ejaculated, squeezing her bottom to encourage her to milk him. Wendy came with him, her anus spasming to express his seed from his cock as her own cock quivered and filled her panties with steaming ejaculate. She felt Liam's cock juddering inside her and the steady pulsing of his shaft as he planted his load deep inside her.

They kissed passionately and held onto each other as they used each other’s bodies to satiate their wanton lust.

Liam stopped thrusting but left his cock buried in Wendy’s anus and kneaded her fat ass as his kisses became tender and his orgasm subsided. Wendy lay beneath him basking in the afterglow of their climax and she lovingly ran her fingers through his hair and kissed his cheek.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

“No, thank you. That was wonderful,” Liam kissed the tip of her nose.

They lay in each other’s arms in post coital bliss until the practicalities of their lovemaking needed to be attended to if Liam was to stay the night. He carefully disengaged and padded down to the guest bathroom where here used a warm soapy facecloth to wipe Wendy's semen off his belly and his own secretions off his now flaccid penis.

Wendy squatted on the toilet to expel most but not all of Liam’s semen from her anus and wiped and dried herself before stepping into a pair of fresh nylon panties. She fixed her makeup again, bushed her hair and put on more perfume.

“I took the liberty if you don’t mind,” Liam came into the bedroom still naked carrying a tray with gin and tonics, cigarettes and an ashtray.

Wendy was lying on the bed waiting for him, having rearranged the covers and pillows.

“Take all the liberties you like, especially with me,” Wendy batted her eyelashes at him dramatically and they both laughed.

It had been some time since Wendy had been treated so respectfully by a man as young as Liam. If she was ever lucky enough to trap a nice piece of young trade he usually could hardly wait to get out of her flat once he had fucked her, likely overcome with post coital regret over shagging a fat old queen like her. Or worse, the john might actually feign interest in post coital cuddling and chit-chat whilst all the while checking his watch.

Liam seemed genuinely taken with her and Wendy appreciated it.

They drank and smoked whilst sitting up in bed playing footsies under the covers and stopping now and then to kiss. Liam asked Wendy about the photographs in the living room and Wendy confirmed what Liam had suspected.

“So who is Crystal and why is she your best friend forever?” Liam asked and Wendy was pleased that Liam was showing more than a passing interest in her pictures.

“Everybody fancies Crystal. We met at the Pink Parrot and have been best friends from the get-go despite our age difference,” Wendy explained.

“But you only know each other as Wendy and Crystal?” Liam chuckled.

“Out of drag I’m Wesley Meakins a gay man who performs drag and doesn't mind the odd romp in the hay whilst enfemme. Crystal is a little more complicated. She would like to transition but for reasons she has never fully explained, but I’m guessing it has to do with family, never has. Crystal is not just playing dressup when she presents enfemme, it fully transforms her personality and her psyche,” Wendy said earnestly.

“But I’m telling tales out of school and most likely boring you,” Wendy shrugged.

Wendy was uncomfortable answering questions about Crystal to a man she had just met as it was none of his business and to be honest she was also a little jealous that Liam appeared to be taken with her. Crystal was a private person who had few friends other that Wendy and she saw no need to share confidences about her.

Unlike Crystal, Wesley was a gay man who worked as a drag queen because he liked show business and the extra income. He’d readily have sex in drag if a customer at the Parrot was willing to pay but as he climbed into his sixties those opportunities were becoming scarcer.

For a period Wesley had been forced to live full-time as a woman, entertaining a small group of men in the small mining town of Villawood Montana. At the time he was a prisoner at Fort Leavenworth Correctional Facility and was participating in a military experiment which went haywire. The stronger men forced two of the weaker ones to present as women and used them for sex. Although Wendy didn’t mind being fucked by the hunky young men in Villawood, it was still a form of forced prostitution and she never talked about it. Wesley’s release from prison had been conditional on him keeping it secret.

Wesley had on occasion gone back to Villawood to visit Samantha Steele who was married to William Brody, the town sheriff. Sam had legally changed her identity from male to female and lived out her years in wedded bliss with Bill and over the years she had undertaken many surgeries to transform her body although she had confided to Wesley that she hadn't altered her genitalia.

“Nonsense; I find the world of drag and gender bending fascinating and of course my penchant for crossdressed women is obvious,” Liam actually blushed.

Liam was an easy listener and Wendy told him most of her life story and how she came to be living where she was and about her friendship with Crystal and the other girls at the Pink Parrot.

“Crystal is away for a few weeks working in a show in Las Vegas. I’m so envious of her,” Wendy gushed.

After two more vigorous lovemaking sessions Liam said his goodbyes around midday and generously left Wendy one hundred and fifty dollars despite her protests.

“You don’t need to pay me, I loved having you here,” she said as she escorted him to the door.

“Nonsense. You are a beautiful woman and a delight and I enjoyed every second I spent with you,” Liam kissed her goodbye and pushed the notes into her hand.

As Wendy retired for the afternoon, her anus still secreting Liam’s last load into her sticky panties, she realised that she had told Liam her life story and almost everything that she knew about Crystal but he had told her hardly anything about himself. But that was typical of johns, they seldom spoke the truth about themselves and most of them were married.

******

J. Edgar Hoover Building, 935 Pennsylvania Avenue, Washington, D.C. 1985

Liam Dresser was the FBI counterintelligence agent who had warned Bronson Bateman that the man who had hired him to lobby Senator Palmer to vote against a bill approving the appropriation of more Stinger missiles for the Afghan Mujahedeen rebels was a KGB stooge.

Liam was not convinced that Bateman had killed himself in a drug induced fugue where he had also accidentally or otherwise strangled a hooker. To him the crime scene was too contrived but the Medical Examiner had made his determination accordingly and was unwilling to change his findings based on Liam’s unsubstantiated claims.

The only contrary evidence Liam had uncovered was that of an attendant at the Park n’ Go Garage on Massachusetts Avenue who had seen Bronson Bateman’s car enter the facility and noticed that he was in the company of an attractive young red-headed woman not the blonde hooker whose body was found at the murder/suicide scene at Rock Creek Park. As the parking facility used prepaid vouchers the attendant had only checked the car pass on the way in. The exit, located on the other side of the building, was unmanned and fitted with an automatic boom.

There was only one security camera covering each floor of the parking structure but Liam had been lucky and was able to find footage of Bronson Bateman’s white Cadillac Eldorado driving past the second floor security camera before he parked in his allotted space behind an air-conditioning unit, screened from the rest of the lot. Liam had been able to capture a still-frame picture of the girl in the passenger seat from the camera’s VHS tape but it was fuzzy and in black and white and of little use.

The KGB stooge who had hired Bronson had disappeared without a trace and Liam was both livid and frustrated but almost ready to give up on the case for lack of evidence. Then a friend of his working in the FBI Counterespionage Section told Liam of an interesting but unrelated story. A United States Air Force officer had committed suicide and left a note admitting that he was being blackmailed to provide intelligence to someone he believed was a Soviet intelligence agent.

The man’s name was Colonel William Spooner and it turned out that he had been caught in a honey trap. A search of Spooner’s office safe at the Pentagon had produced an envelope containing pictures of Colonel Spooner caught flagrante delicto with a pretty young transwoman. Also inside the envelope was a matchbook from a nightclub located in DuPont Circle called the Pink Parrot.

Over coffee the two agents discussed how the Soviets were upping their game when it came to clandestine operations and counterintelligence. Liam was able to look at the pictures of Spooner and the girl. It was almost unthinkable that the Soviets would use a transgender woman as an operative but that would make her a perfect sleeper agent because nobody would ever suspect her. Something niggled him about the pictures of the girl and it wasn't just because he found himself attracted to her.

Then it came to him. Liam noted the similarity between the woman in the pictures found in Spooner's office and the fuzzy picture he had from the Park n’ Go. It was impossible to match the two women but there were similarities. When he took his suspicions to his SAC he was told that there was no correlation between the two cases and that the pictures were inconclusive and his hypothesis was ridiculous and to drop his investigation and move on but Liam Dresser was not easily dissuaded.

The case intrigued him not only because he believed there could be a transwoman Soviet operative which was unheard of, but also because Liam was secretly fascinated with transvestites and transsexuals.

Liam had taken a considerable risk taking one of the photographs of the girl out of evidence and copying it. He enlarged it and cut around the girl’s face, removing her lingerie-clad body and that of Colonel Spooner from the picture. It wasn’t a brilliant picture but it was better than the fuzzy VHS still from the Park n’ Go.

He wrote down the address from the matchbook and went to the Pink Parrot with the headshot of the pretty young woman and had shown it to the bar staff but they weren’t prepared to talk to someone who looked like a straight stiff. For a fifty dollar bribe he was able to ply out of one of the bouncers that the older chubby drag queen sitting at the bar would know who the person in the photograph was.

Liam knew that showing the picture to the drag queen would shut her down so Liam had run his pickup line on Wendy Meakins and had taken her home and shagged her and gained as much information as he could without tipping his hand that he was an FBI agent.

Now he had a name: Crystal Greystone.

The FBI’s computers at this time were not linked to all the State and Federal databases but using meticulous investigation techniques and cashing in some favours with associates from other state and federal government agencies Liam found Crystal Greystone. She had a Social Security number, a driver’s licence and even a passport. The address on these documents proved to be false as did the address she had given at the Pink Parrot nightclub which Liam had broken into illegally on Monday morning. He found a post office box in her name where her mail was directed.

But Crystal Greystone had died at birth in Colorado in 1964. She had then somehow reincarnated and applied for a Social Security number in 1983 and then acquired other identity documents all using a false birth certificate. Crystal Greystone was a ghost.

Liam Dresser knew at this time he should take everything he had back to his SAC. He believed that he had enough evidence to support his hypothesis but he knew that he would have a hard time explaining how he had milked Wendy Meakins for information and when she was brought in for questioning she would likely disclose their sexual liaison which would end his career, as would the illegal break-in and search of the Pink Parrot’s employment documentation.

There was also the fact the more he investigated Crystal Greystone, the more he became infatuated with her. At the Pink Parrot he had taken a handbill with a picture of Crystal dressed in a sequined evening gown singing into a microphone. The emotion on her beautiful face, her perfect figure and those long legs peeking out of the split in her gown beguiled him. He had become fascinated with her.

Liam knew it was irrational but he didn’t want to share her.

Yes, she was most likely a Soviet sleeper agent and was directly responsible for at least one death and complicit in Colonel Spooner’s suicide and had committed who knew how many illegal intelligence gathering offences but she was his spy! He would find her and he would bring her to justice. But he would do it his way.

When he exposed and arrested her he would become a legend in the Bureau and his unorthodox investigative methods would be forgiven and concealed for security purposes. The fallout would be a black eye and embarrassment for the KGB as well as a strategic and a propaganda disaster. The Soviets had a new General Secretary, they were embarrassed by the publicity regarding the shooting of the American officer in East Germany, they were losing the arms race and their economy was declining. Exposing a transgender Soviet operative would be another nail in their coffin.

Special Agent Dresser convinced himself of all this when he took short-notice annual leave and purchased a ticket to Las Vegas.

Liam Dresser had gone rogue.

*****

Ambassador Hotel and Casino, Las Vegas Nevada, March 1985

Crystal Greystone attended the morning rehearsal and performed the matinée at the Envoy Cabaret and had a hard time blowing off Michelle Dupree who wanted them both to get a late lunch. She made her excuses and went up into her room and changed into a skirt, blouse, nylons and heels and tuned down her makeup. The ‘message waiting’ lamp on her phone was blinking and she lifted the handset and played the message.

It was from her rezidentura colleague who had been sent to Las Vegas to support her, he was keeping an eye on Brett Beaumont and his security tail and he advised Crystal that Brett was gambling on the Stardust casino floor and his security detail was sitting at a nickel slot keeping an eye on him.

Crystal took a car to the Stardust and entered the casino and saw Brett playing blackjack with a young woman standing beside him who looked the very caricature of a Las Vegas hooker: big hair, big tits, long legs and big ass all on display.

Crystal went into the hotel and took the elevator up to the VIP floor using the keycard she had copied the previous evening. Checking that the corridor was clear she strode down to Brett Beaumont’s room and let herself in.

The room had been recently serviced and was clean, although a lingering smell of cigarette smoke and stale booze was undercurrent to the household deodorant that the housemaid had used.

Crystal went straight to the room-safe and put a device the size and shape of a cigarette packet against the digital dial and pressed the button on the side. The four-figure combination lit up on the dial and Crystal punched it in. The cheap hotel safe was no match for Soviet technology. Crystal found a plain manila folder marked Cottage. Inside the envelope were five pages of scientific dribble that meant nothing to Crystal but she photographed every page using her Minox miniature camera.

She returned the envelope, closed the safe and made her way back to the lobby and was about to exit the hotel when a voice called out her name.

‘Fuck! He’s seen me!’ Crystal thought but she plastered a smile to her face and turned around.

It wasn’t Brett Beaumont who had called her name, it was the concierge.

Crystal smiled at him and followed him into his little office.

“Did Professor Beaumont come and see your show with the tickets you comped him?” the ferret-faced little man asked.

“Sure he did,” Crystal smiled but she was eager to be on her way.

“The tickets I arranged to have sent up to his room,” the ferret smiled with crooked little teeth.

“Yes and I paid you fifty dollars to do so,” Crystal countered.

“And you promised me a blowjob if he went to your show and I know he did and I know that you went up to his room afterwards so I’m guessing you did pretty well out of the deal,” the ferret’s grin widened.

Crystal had two options. She could blow him or kill him and it was far too difficult to dispose of the body.

She reached behind her and clicked over the tumbler on the doorlock and dropped to her knees.

She wondered how many other hookers, grifters, showgirls and cocktail waitresses had been forced to perform the same act in the concierge's shabby little office.

As it turned out the task was not that difficult or revolting, the concierge had quite a nice un-ferret-like penis which was clean and quite appealing. Crystal took him in her mouth and dutifully looked up into the ferret’s face while she performed her task. She knew that men loved eye contact during fellatio and she sucked and slavered on the long thin cock, leaving traces of her lipstick on the shaft.

It didn’t take the little concierge long to climax and he deposited a healthy load into Crystal’s mouth which she had no difficulty swallowing. Having performed her service she got to her feet, picked up her handbag and left the office while the ferret-faced concierge zipped his flies. She also snatched up a plain envelope from a pile on the concierge’s desk before she left.

It was easier to take the path of least resistance than to jeopardise the mission. Crystal knew that her virtue was a tradable commodity; it had been programmed into her from an early age.

Crystal went back to the Ambassador and to up her room where she brushed her teeth and gargled with mouthwash and then she removed the little film cassette from the Minox and put it in the envelope which she left at a pre-arranged dead-drop that afternoon. There was a message for her at the dead-drop and she took it back to the hotel and used a one-time pad to decode it.

Colonel William Spooner had committed suicide. She was directed to call Stephan Boriliski as soon as possible.

Crystal took a walk down the Strip and found a phone booth in an Arby’s and called Steven speaking only English.

“Am I compromised?” she asked breathlessly.

“Don’t panic, you are trained for this,” Steven said coldly.

“We are assessing the damage. We know the FBI has pictures of you with Spooner. The photographs I used to blackmail him were found in the safe in his office but at this stage military intelligence and the FBI have no idea who you are. Our FBI informant advises that they think an operative hired you to compromise Spooner; they suspect you are a hooker not an operative,” Steven explained.

“The rezidentura assess that your identity is safe for now and you are to continue your current mission. We need the data that Brett Beaumont will have with him after the Cottage test,” Steven went on.

“There is to be no variation to the plan. Act like everything is normal,” Steven said calmly.

“Yes, of course,” Crystal said.

Her heart rate had increased but only slightly. She was a highly trained operative and she and Steven had practiced such scenarios and she trusted his judgement and that of the rezidentura.

“Michelle Dupree. The other transwoman in your revue. She may be of use to us. Continue to foster your relationship with her. Get her close. You know what I mean,” Steven said levelly.

Crystal knew what he meant.

“The military are doing their best to keep a lid on Spooner’s transgressions because if the media got wind of them it would be a scandal. The FBI are chasing their tails and haven’t linked Spooner’s death to Project Excalibur because the military are refusing to divulge which projects Spooner was currently working on. The American bureaucracy is doing what it always does, which only works in our favour,” Steven explained, hoping that Crystal would remain calm.

“Ok Stephan, I will continue to do what I do and I will get close to Michelle Dupree,” Crystal said with little emotion.

“Also, I’m coming to Las Vegas. Continue to work with your rezidentura assistant; I’m not coming to support the operation, I’m coming just in case we need to extract you at short notice. Kyle Gordon’s identity is safe; we would never compromise that,” Steven said and broke the connection.

Crystal sat in a booth at the Arby’s and ordered coffee and thought things through.

Brett Beaumont was of no further to use to her until after the Cottage test but she needed to keep him hooked. She called him in his room at the Stardust and asked him to come see her after the late show at the Envoy Cabaret. It turned out Brett was busy with his new hooker girlfriend and couldn’t make it but he promised to meet up with Crystal when he came back from the test site because he was looking forward to fucking her.

Brett was pragmatic. He knew Crystal wasn’t going anywhere and he knew where to find her, and find her would, but for now his big-titted blonde floozy was slaking his thirst.

“Well, you know where to find me,” Crystal said into the telephone and broke the connection.

Crystal kept up her routine of three shows a day, meet-and-greets, rehearsals and had not much else to do but to develop her friendship with Michelle Dupree and she invited Michelle out for a late dinner after the review.

Crystal dressed in her little black cocktail dress and Michelle was similarly dressed but in blue when they met in the Ambassador Grille for dinner. It was a convenient place to eat as they were both staying at the hotel and it operated twenty-four hours a day, no reservations needed. When they arrived it was nearly eleven and the restaurant was nowhere near full. They sat in a booth and ordered cocktails while they perused the menus.

“I’m gonna order a big steak with the trimmings and take tomorrow night off,” Michelle sighed as she decided on her side dishes.

“What do you mean take tomorrow night off?” Crystal asked; a little alarmed.

She was sure Fred Winebrow would not be happy that one his showgirls would be missing a show.

“Not from the review silly. I mean from selling my ass on the side,” Michelle giggled.

“I told you that I’m here to make as much money as possible so I can get my bottom surgery done,” Michelle switched over to the wine menu.

“I didn’t realise you were hooking on the side,” Crystal lied.

The walls between the adjoining rooms were thin enough that she heard almost very sound Michelle made and was often kept awake by the sound of the headboard banging against the wall.

“I know that you went with that Beaumont fellow who rudely interrupted us at the opening night,” Michelle sounded a little peeved.

“Yes but that wasn’t for money. I just found him attractive and pleasant company,” Crystal tried to deflect but Michelle plowed on.

“Anyway, I’m over being fed like a bird. I’m having oysters to start, a big steak and dessert if I can fit it in,” Michelle grinned.

“That’s a lot,” Crystal commented.

“Well like I said, I aint fuckin’ anyone tomorrow,” Michelle picked out a red wine to go with dinner.

“When you poop outa the same hole you’re fuckin in, it kinds limits your menu selections; another reason I can’t wait to get my designer vagina!” Michelle blurted out and Crystal nearly choked on her drink.

“Jesus Michelle!” Crystal laughed.

“You know what I’m talking about girl,” Michelle slipped her hand under the table and up Crystal’s dress and squeezed her thigh.

“Now you’re taking liberties,” Crystal whispered.

The waitress approached and Michelle ordered her big meal and a bottle of good Shiraz. Michelle kept her hand under Crystal’s dress and softly stroked her thigh and Crystal found herself becoming uncomfortably tumescent. As the meal progressed Michelle became bolder and started to stroke the front of Crystal’s panties and Crystal had to slap Michelle’s hand away before her tuck failed and she tented her dress.

The two women kissed each other passionately in the elevator on the way up to Michelle’s room much to the amusement and titillation of two mid-west businessmen. Michelle opened the door to her room and guided Crystal to her bed.

“I haven’t been with another transgender woman for so long that I can’t remember that last time,” Michelle sighed between kisses.

The two beautiful women were standing next to the bed in Michelle’s room, neither of them in a hurry to undress.

“I’m not sure how transgender I am. I have no tits and I haven’t even started hormones yet,” Crystal confessed.

“You look more like a woman than most of the showgirls in this town and besides, most of it is in your head. You told me yourself that you intended to transition and live as a woman so as far as I’m concerned you are a woman,” Michelle stroked Crystal's upper arm comfortingly.

“Yes that is true,” Crystal sighed, her lips brushed Michelle’s.

Michelle could taste Crystal’s lipstick and she pulled Crystal in closer. Crystal was as tall as Michelle and the two women stood face to face. Although the two women were of similar age for some reason Crystal felt that she was the younger of the two and was taking on the submissive role.

“I’ve wanted to do this since we first met,” Michelle whispered, putting her arms around Crystal.

“I’ve wanted it too but worried that we are too close professionally to have a personal relationship,” Crystal lied easily and welcomed the embrace and kissed Michelle.

All evening Michelle had been fondling Crystal under the table and the lust simmering between the two women ignited and they kissed passionately, their mouths locked together and their tongues entwined. They fell on the bed and rubbed their bodies together, locking their arms and legs around each other and holding each other tight as they kissed.

They stripped each other of their cocktail dresses and Crystal dumped her breastforms. They were left dressed in their slips panties and nylons, their heels and dresses interlaced on the floor as they were interlaced on the bed.

They were both wearing sheer pantyhose which whispered as they rubbed their legs together. They intertwined their limbs and delicious slivers of delight ran up their legs.

Michelle’s full ripe bosom pressed against Crystal’s tiny breasts and their satin slips slinked against their bodies and their nipples hardened. Michelle clung to Crystal holding her close, kissing her, stroking her and igniting her lust.

Crystal allowed herself to be submissive as she had never been with another transgender woman and she relished the feel of being cuddled and cosseted by this beautiful transwoman. Both women had become untucked and their penises pressed against each other through layers of satin panties and slips.

Michelle reached down and squeezed Crystal’s erect penis through the slinky layers of fabric causing Crystal to gasp. Crystal reciprocated and found Michelle’s cock tenting her panties and she began to stroke it. They kissed passionately as they stroked each other’s cocks through their panties, neither of them in a rush to extract their throbbing members.

Michelle climbed on top of Crystal, their slips hissing as the silky satin slid against their bodies, their cocks aligned, their lips crushed together and their tongues entwined. The sensuality of their bodies rubbing against each other, their cocks pressed together through layers of satin and nylon, their mouths joined, was overpowering. They held each other tight, pantyhosed legs scissoring as they humped and ground against each other.

“I’m going to come, I can’t stop it,” Crystal gasped.

“I’ll come with you darling,” Michelle gasped.

Simultaneously both women filled their panties with hot semen as they ground against each other, grinding, rubbing and chafing their bodies and limbs. Their cocks quivered and pressed together through their panties and satin slips as their semen co-mingled. They kissed and caressed and whispered sweet talk as their orgasms washed over them.

Michelle remained tumescent and concupiscent and she rolled Crystal onto her back.

She pinned Crystal to the bed and snaked her hand under Crystal’s slip and inside her panties and viciously ripped out the crotch of Crystal's pantyhose. Michelle smeared her erect penis with Crystal's semen and slid her cock into Crystal's anus.

Crystal gasped and wrapped her legs around Michelle and held her close.

“Do it! Fuck me!” Crystal raised her buttocks and encouraged Michelle to fuck her.

Michelle complied and moved her cock slowly in out of Crystal, drawing it all the way out and then driving it all the way in, ensuring she pushed her glans against Crystal's prostate so that she received full pleasure.

The two gorgeous transgender women fucked each other, Michelle put her hands under Crystal's shoulders so she could drive her erect penis deep and hard into Crystal and Crystal wrapped her legs tighter around Michelle, pulling her lover closer as they kissed passionately.

Michelle felt her climax approaching again and she gripped Crystal's ankles and lifted her legs up over her shoulders so that she gained maximum penetration. Crystal assisted by lifting her bottom up off the bed and sliding two pillows under her ass and wrapped her arms around the lover who loomed over her.

They kissed and writhed and wriggled against each other; their passion building.

"Oh Yes!" Michelle screamed and ground her groin into Crystal's buttocks.

Michelle's phallus erupted deep in Crystal's ass, her semen spewed forth flooding Crystal's anus. Crystal sighed as she felt her bowels fill with Michelle’s seed. Crystal clung to Michelle as her cock pushed against her prostate and her silken-shrouded belly rubbed on Crystal's penis.

Crystal orgasmed. Her satin slip became soaked with her seed. The intensity of this orgasm was even stronger than the first. Crystal pushed up against Michelle and drove her tongue into her mouth and raked her fingernails along Michelle's back, so extreme was her release.

The two lovers kissed and caressed as their climaxes slowly subsided. Michelle unlocked Crystal's calves from around her neck but kept her semi-tumescent penis inside her anus.

“You were wonderful,” Crystal smiled up at Michelle.

“You were pretty amazing yourself,” Michelle leaned down and kissed Crystal on the tip of her nose.

Michelle put her weight on her palms so she could disengage from Crystal but Crystal kept her legs locked around Michelle’s waist and her arms clasped around her neck.

“Where do you think you’re going sister?” Crystal giggled.

They fell asleep in each other’s arms, their bellies full of food and good liquor and Crystal’s ass filled with Michelle’s spunk.

Crystal awoke in the early hours and tiptoed through the interconnecting door to her room. She put her semen-stained slip and panties in the laundry hamper and ditched her laddered nylons in the trash. She crawled into bed, sated and exhausted.

It had been a good night.

McCarran International Airport, Las Vegas Nevada, March 1985

Liam Dresser arrived in Las Vegas just as Crystal was leaving Michelle’s hotel room. Normally his first stop would be the FBI field office but as he was acting outside the remit of the FBI he did no such thing. He checked himself into one of the cheaper hotels on the Strip and got to work. It took him hardly any time at all to find that Crystal was performing in the Boys Will Be Girls Spectacular review at the Ambassador Hotel and Casino.

He picked up a couple of flyers and pinned them to his hotel room wall along with the flyer he had from the Pink Parrot, the black and white still from the Park n’ Go Garage and the head-shot he had copied illegally at the FBI Counterespionage Section. He built himself a ‘crime wall’ adding Crystal’s employment card from the Pink Parrot and the meagre evidence he had linking her to Bronson Bateman’s death and Colonel Spooner’s entrapment and suicide. He checked the notes he had made in his notebook and transcribed the salient points onto white index cards which he also pinned to his crime wall.

Liam wished he had made some copies of the pictures of Crystal flagrante delicto with Colonel Spooner. The ones he had seen of her riding Spooner’s cock dressed in her pantyhose and high heels, her evening gown hiked up to expose her ass and those long legs. She had been looking discreetly at the hidden camera in one of the shots: her head thrown back in the throes of passion. He started to become erect at the memory of it.

He freshened up, changed his clothes and made his way down to the Ambassador Hotel and Casino and bought tickets for the matinée. Liam didn’t want to bring attention to himself so he took a table near the front of the Envoy Cabaret but off to one side where he had a clear view of the stage but not in the eyeline of the performers.

He became transfixed when Crystal Greystone came out on stage in her red satin evening gown, split to the waist and the spotlight hit her. She began to sing Anyone Who Knows What Love Is and his heart rose with the sentiment of the song. He realised that the flyers did not do her justice: Crystal Greystone was stunningly beautiful, tall and long-legged, her limbs sheathed in sheer flesh-toned nylons, she was wide hipped and slim waisted, her shoulders narrow. Her skin was flawless and milky white, her arms and shoulders had a light scattering of freckles.

Already infatuated with Crystal Greystone, Liam Dresser fell instantly and crazily in love with her, knowing full well that the feelings he felt were irrational, sociopathic and obsessive. It’s not like he hadn't met beautiful women before or even beautiful transgender women but there was something about Crystal Greystone that captivated him. Yes it was certainly her youth and beauty, yes it was certainly because she was a transwoman but it was also the danger associated with her.

She was the enemy and most likely a killer.

Liam had purchased a Konica Pop point-and-shoot camera that was small enough to be unobtrusive and he concealed it in his jacket pocket. He took it out and surreptitiously took a whole roll of thirty-six colour exposures of Crystal performing solo and in the chorus line. He was also taken by another solo artist who was a nearly as beautiful as Crystal with pixie-cut cherry-red hair with copper highlights and swept bangs. She was tall but feminine shaped, with narrow shoulders and wide hips and long shapely legs. Her silver lame mini-dress clung to her long frame and sparkled under the spotlight. He looked at the programme and saw that her name was Michelle Dupree.

As tempted as he was to stick around for the meet-and-greet Liam did not want to press his luck so instead he took his camera to an instant-photo shop and had all thirty-six exposures printed, accepting their generous two-for-one offer. Back at the hotel he sifted through the pictures he had taken and found most of them were poorly exposed but he had six good pictures of Crystal Greystone and a couple of Michelle Dupree. He pinned the pictures of Crystal to his crime wall and studied it.

His next task was to find out exactly what Crystal was doing in Las Vegas. It was the perfect town to set a honey trap with its excesses of booze, gambling and other vices but who would be a suitable mark, someone who would make it worthwhile for Crystal to leave Washington and take a short-term contract in a Las Vegas casino?

Without the resources of a field office to help him Liam would have to investigate the old fashioned way, working as a gumshoe. The first thing he needed to do was set up surveillance on Crystal Greystone but if she was a Soviet operative, as he suspected she was, he would have to be very careful. He was one man and she would undoubtedly have the support of the rezidentura. Who knew how many other operatives were supporting her?

Liam set himself a routine. He rose and had an early breakfast and made his way to the Ambassador Hotel and Casino and picked up Crystal as she entered the Envoy Cabaret for morning rehearsals followed by the matinée show. It was unlikely that she would get up to anything of consequence during this time but she may be approached by another operative, however Liam saw nothing suspicious.

He noted that Crystal seemed close with Michelle Dupree and they would have coffee together after the matinée meet-and–greet. There were little tells, a lingering touch, a quick kiss on the lips, a hand on a thigh under the table, that signalled to him that Crystal and Michelle were more than just friends. This was confirmed when Crystal went into Michelle’s room after the late show and he listened to them making love through the door.

This didn’t happen every night however. Michelle regularly picked up johns after the final show and took them up to her room, sometimes servicing up to three men in one night. Crystal wasn’t hooking and that didn’t surprise Liam. She was here for something far more important than prostitution. She would be looking for a specific mark.

Other than the occasional dalliance with Michelle Dupree, Crystal Greystone kept to herself and didn’t show any signs that she was operating covertly for a foreign agency. Liam was beginning to doubt himself and then something changed quite dramatically.

Liam Dresser was almost ready to give up his surveillance on Crystal Greystone. He decided he would wait for her to return to Washington and pick her up at the Pink Parrot where she would undoubtedly return to her business of entrapping Americans of strategic value to the KGB: military types, politicians, industrial moguls were prime targets and they all haunted the corridors of power in the Capital and some of them would have weaknesses that women like Crystal could exploit.

Maybe she really was just undertaking a short-term contract in the review to earn money. Until Liam found out more about Crystal, her lifestyle outside of being a showgirl was a mystery to him.

Then it happened. He was waiting in the lobby of the Ambassador when the elevator door opened and Crystal walked out dressed in a blue satin and lace dress that was low-cut and short-skirted. She was not wearing breastforms and was flat-chested but the aesthetic only made the dress more fashionable. She carried a spacious Hermès Birkin 30 trapeze-shaped handbag made from Togo leather in France-blue to match her dress. It was a knock-off of course as the original was worth thousands but it was a good quality knock-off.

Heads turned in her direction as she strode confidently across the lobby on legs that seemed to go on forever, swathed in shimmery-sheer flesh-toned nylon. Her makeup was dramatic and perfect and her shag-bob styled with burgundy highlights had been recently coiffed.

Liam put down his newspaper and watched her climb into a town car then he bolted for the entrance and dived into the back of a waiting taxi, offering the driver double the fare to follow the town car. The town car pulled into the Stardust Resort and Liam had the driver drop him a hundred yards from the entrance.

This was the delicate and dangerous part of being a gumshoe. Liam needed to be close enough to his mark to see what she was doing but not close enough that she would become suspicious.

He followed her into the lobby and watched her use the house phone while he pretended to be interested in some pamphlets advertising shows on the Strip. Crystal waited patiently near the concierge’s desk studying her red-lacquered nails brushing off the advances of the ferret-faced concierge who acted like he knew Crystal personally.

Her face lit up when a tall, handsome, well-dressed man strode confidently across the lobby and took Crystal in his arms and kissed her unashamedly in the crowded lobby. The two only had eyes for each other and Liam burned with jealousy.

Liam knew that Crystal was having illicit encounters with Michelle Dupree but that didn’t matter to him. However seeing her obvious affection for this young, tall, confident, handsome man infuriated him. The man took Crystal for drinks in the Starlight Lounge and Liam’s anger consumed him and his jealousy seared as he watched them. Their little affectations rankled him: they sat close together touching each other almost lovingly, they kissed like teenagers on a date and the man stroked Crystal’s legs almost constantly.

Liam curbed his jealousy-fuelled anger long enough to palm his Konica Pop point-and-shoot camera and take some shots of the couple, trying to focus in on the tall handsome man until they left the Starlight Lounge and went back to the lobby elevators. By then Liam’s anger was at boiling point. They were obviously going up to the man’s room and he knew what they were going to do up there. The man was going to fuck Crystal! He was going to fuck the woman that Liam thought belonged to him, even though he had never even spoken to her.

Liam cleared his mind of visions of Crystal lying on her back with those magnificent legs wide open, the man lying between them, rutting her and kissing her. He scrutinised the ferret-faced concierge and the front desk staff. To him they all looked like self-important assholes who would not divulge information about the hotel guests easily. If he flashed his badge at them they would cooperate but he didn’t want to do that because everyone gossiped and it was likely that the tall man, or even worse Crystal Greystone, would find out that the FBI was interested in them.

Despite his anger, Liam had noted that the man had a minder or some sort of security detail. The minder looked like a law enforcement type but possibly retired or close to it; a little pudgy in the middle with a flat-top haircut and a cheap suit. The security detail made no attempt to disguise what he was doing. He kept a discreet distance from the man he was protecting but he was openly tailing him; sending a message that the man should be left alone by anyone whose intentions were dubious.

If Crystal was a soviet operative, she had the perfect means of bypassing the man's security perimeter.

Liam eyed a bellhop. The man was older than the other bellhops and displayed an attitude. He was pleasant enough with the hotel and casino patrons but he seemed fractious and churlish with the other hotel staff. Liam approached the bellhop and it was obvious that the bellhop sensed that he was law enforcement.

“What you want cop?” the bellhop spoke out the side of his mouth and looked over Liam’s shoulder rather than looking him in the eyes.

“I’m not a cop,” Liam replied reaching for his wallet.

“You’re a cop. I can tell. If you’re reaching for your wallet to offer me a bribe then you’re either doing something illegal, something you should get a warrant for, or you’re working off the clock,” the bellhop said sardonically.

Liam produced a twenty and the bellhop sneered so Liam put the twenty back in his wallet and produced a fifty which the bellhop expertly palmed.

“You saw the tall man; good looking guy in the expensive suit with the tall woman in the blue satin and lace minidress? They went into the elevator,” Liam nodded at the bank of hotel elevators.

“Yeah the tall dude with the tranny,” the bellhop said a little sarcastically.

Liam winced when the bellhop used the word tranny and the bellhop caught it.

“Most wouldn’t clock her but I can tell. I’ve been working in Vegas too long,” the bellhop sighed.

“I want to know who the man is and what room he’s in,” Liam ignored the sleight.

“Well I can tell you that he’s in one of our VIP suites and that he’s a regular patron of this establishment. If you take a seat over there and wait about thirty minutes or so I’ll give you everything the hotel knows about him,” he pointed to the lobby lounge with his chin.

Liam went over and sat in an armchair, wrote up his notes and tried to read a newspaper and drink coffee trying hard not to imagine what was happening to Crystal up the VIP suite.

*****

VIP Suite 2, Stardust Hotel and Casino, Las Vegas Nevada, March 1985

Brett led Crystal over to the giant bed as soon as they entered the room, stripping himself of his clothing along the way. He pushed Crystal down on the bed and gazed down at her.

She looked delightful; her dress had hiked up revealing the tops of hold-up stockings. She gazed up at him innocently with her emerald-green eyes, enhanced by black mascara and eyeliner and put a finger in her mouth like she was a virginal schoolgirl but there was hidden lust smouldering in her gaze.

“I’m going to fuck you now Crystal,” Brett said breathlessly.

He had been dreaming of this the whole time that he had been stuck out in the desert at the nuclear test site.

“Are you?” Crystal teased.

Brett’s cock stood proud and erect and Crystal reached for it but Brett slapped her hand away.

He jumped on the bed and rolled Crystal over on her stomach and she kicked out at him in protest. He rucked up her dress and beheld her transparent white panties through which he could see the perfect globes of her ass. The tell-tale glimmer of lubricant between her cheeks indicated to him that Crystal knew full well that Brett was going to fuck her as soon as he got her in the room.

Crystal pretended to struggle as Brett pawed at her panties, eventually yanking them down to her knees. He put an arm under her belly and lifted her to her knees so that her buttocks were level with his groin.

“Wait!” Crystal cried out, but it was too late.

Brett pushed his glans past Crystal’s tight puckered sphincter and she was thankful that she had pre-lubricated herself in anticipation of Brett’s impatience. The bell-end of his cock opened her entrance like a bud bursting into flower. Crystal gritted her teeth while Brett looked down and saw the first inch of his long thick cock buried in Crystal’s anus.

“Ow! That hurts,” Crystal kicked her heels in protest but secretly she was enjoying the roleplay.

“Well what about this?” Brett slowly pushed all of his cock inside Crystal's tight anus.

Watching his cock slide into Crystal’s ass was almost as wonderful as the feel of her flesh clinging to his rock hard penis as he pushed it further and deeper inside her. Crystal gasped and her cock was instantly hard and broke free of the tape holding it along her perineum. Her testes descended into her scrotal sac. She began to dribble pre-ejaculate onto the satin comforter.

“You cheeky bitch!” Brett saw Crystal leaking precum and he grinned.

He was making this gorgeous tranny sexually excited. Brett reached under Crystal and gathered a string of glittering precum and smoothed it along Crystal’s quivering penis. He heard her gasp as he squeezed it and slowly began to fuck her. He loved the feel of her tight anus wrapped around his tumescent phallus, her sphincter stretching open like a pink velvety cleft as his cock slid in and out of her. Waves of pleasure radiated from his groin as he smashed his belly into her soft pliant buttocks as he fucked her harder and faster.

Crystal was wriggling like a trapped minx impaled on a fleshy sword. Being on her knees, Brett's cock was able to penetrate deep inside her bowels, pushing on her prostate, massaging her sphincter. Her anus was lit up with sparklets of intense pleasure amplified by the rings of delight coming from her quivering cock as Brett stroked her in time with his thrusts which were becoming faster and harder.

“If you keep that up I’m going to cum!” Crystal gasped.

“It’s too late!” Brett cried out and slammed his cock into Crystal's ass so hard that she collapsed and fell down prone on the bed with Brett lying on top of her, pressing his cock deep inside her.

She felt his organ quivering and the warm gush of his spunk as he ejaculated; his cock throbbed against her prostate igniting her own orgasm. Her cock pulsated and erupted, squirting her hot spend into Brett's fingers and dribbling onto the comforter.

Crystal writhed and kicked and thrashed as the most wonderful sensations lit up her pleasure centres. Brett clung to her, his body pressing her into the mattress, driving in his cock deeper inside her. He felt her scalding issue on his fingers and that ignited another mini-orgasm and Crystal felt Brett’s cock tremble again and her ass was flooded with warm, musky semen.

Brett hammered away at Crystal's ass as she sighed and cried and wriggled and writhed beneath him. It was the most intense fucking she had ever endured and she loved it.

She squirmed beneath him and was able to roll over so that they were face to face and she kicked off her panties and locked her legs around him and kissed him passionately and Brett returned her kisses in full and pressed his body against her warm and tender flesh, delighting in the feel of her stockings rubbing on his flanks.

When their lust was sated Crystal stripped off her clothes and Brett carried her to the shower where he pinned her to the glass wall and fucked her again which Crystal thought an impossibility given that he had orgasmed twice already but she certainly didn’t complain, feeling his body pressed against her and his cock buried in her anus whilst the warm water cascaded over their bodies.

They had dinner in the suite. Crystal had negotiated a rare night off from the review with Fred Winebrow, her spot in the review taken by a ‘filler queen’. It had cost her the indignity of being ass-fucked by Fred Winebrow in his office but it was worth it.

They lingered over dinner and had more to drink and fucked a fourth and final time, this time it was less frenetic and more romantic with Crystal lying on her back and Brett between her legs kissing her and whispering endearing terms into her ear.

Brett insisted that they shower together again and Crystal was becoming frustrated. The sex was fantastic but she was here on a mission. Her Hermès handbag held the card reader, the safe code cracker and her Minox camera and she was waiting for Brett to either fall asleep so she could open the safe and photograph the contents or take his keycard and put it through the card reader so she could come back later but he wouldn’t leave her alone even for an instant.

Through with fucking Crystal and emboldened by champagne he bragged about how successful the Cottage test had been claiming the brightness of the laser beam produced during the test had been increased six orders of magnitude from the previous experiment, which he equated to between one and ten million times, a huge advance that would pave the way for an actual space-based laser weapons system.

Crystal realised how important the documents in Brett Beaumont’s safe would be to the USSR and was determined to get her hands on them but Brett was making it impossible. She could drug him or even kill him and take what she wanted but that would alert the Americans and that the Soviets had infiltrated Project Excalibur and also her cover as Crystal Greystone would be blown for ever.

Brett told her he had two more days left in La Vegas before he had to return to California and he wanted to spend them with her. He asked Crystal to accompany him down to the gaming floor so she fixed her makeup and joined him; all the time seething with frustration because she wanted what was in Brett Beaumont’s safe but one thing that had been drilled into her during her training was patience. She still had two days.

*****

The Lobby, Stardust Hotel and Casino, Las Vegas Nevada, March 1985

The bellhop returned a little over forty minutes after Liam had tipped him the bribe and dropped an envelope on the table next to Liam Dresser’s coffee cup. Liam snatched up the envelope and decided to walk back to his cheap hotel. He stopped at the instant-photo shop and once again took advantage of their generous two-for-one offer.

In his hotel room he poured himself a large scotch whiskey and perused the pictures he had taken of Crystal and her beau. He tore up the pictures that were under or over exposed and those that were poorly framed and was left with eight clear shots of the man who he now knew to be Professor Brett Beaumont.

That was the name on the card that the bellhop had left in the envelope as well as the room number which was VIP suite two on the Executive floor of the hotel. Also on the card was an address provided by Beaumont which was the Lawrence Livermore Laboratory in California. Brett couldn’t help but big-note himself even when filling in the hotel registration card he used his title as ‘Professor’ and gave the ‘Laboratory’ as his mailing address.

Liam tacked two of the pictures of Brett to the wall next to the pictures of Crystal and studied them. The very title Professor rang alarm bells. Brett Beaumont was very likely the mark that Crystal had been sent to exploit in some way but Liam needed to know more about him.

Liam took a risk and ventured down to the FBI field office on Lake Mead Boulevard and flashed his badge and asked to speak to Special Agent Nigel Harris who Liam knew from his days at the Academy in Quantico. He fed Nigel a line that he was on vacation but had just been provided with a tip regarding a case he was working on and could he use the facilities of the field office for an hour or two?

Agent Harris was leaving for the day but he signed Liam in and led him to his office and left him to it.

Liam worked the FBI’s computer system, one of the best of its type in 1985, and found out as much as he could about Brett Beaumont but even the FBI couldn’t access the United States Department of Energy or the Defense Department systems. But he learned enough to confirm that Brett Beaumont was the mark.

He discovered that Brett Beaumont was an expert in X-ray laser technology and digging deeper he discovered that X-ray lasers were produced during nuclear explosions. More research uncovered that the DoE had just conducted a test at their Nevada test site which explained Beaumont’s presence in Las Vegas. A confidential document in the FBI’s Risk Mitigation database stated that Beaumont was a frequent abuser of alcohol, a compulsive gambler, played loosely with the law and was a womaniser. Beaumont was considered a medium level security risk and was to be provided with a security detail whenever he was travelling.

Everything was starting to fall into place!

But Brett Beaumont was not susceptible to blackmail. His reputation as a lothario was well known; he was not married and played loose with the rules so a honey trap wouldn’t work on him. Crystal must be trying to pry confidential information out him directly. Beaumont’s reputation for big-noting himself was well known, although so far he was not suspected of leaking classified information. But that was so far!

Liam printed out some of the information he had gathered and wrote contemporaneous notes in his notebook then he went back to the Stardust and waited patiently in the lobby, drinking coffee and reading newspapers, his mind racing with images of what he suspected was taking place in VIP suite two upstairs. When Brett Beaumont and Crystal Greystone reappeared, emerging from the elevator that serviced the Executive levels of the hotel, Liam spotted them immediately.

Crystal looked fresh-faced and Beaumont looked as handsome as ever, dressed in an expensive suit but his gait suggested that although he was a man who could hold his liquor he had imbibed more than his fair share. Liam’s jealousy instantly returned. He thought that Crystal had a ‘just-fucked’ look about her but there was nothing in her outward appearance for a reasonable person to assume so.

Brett Beaumont’s security detail picked the couple up and followed them into the Casino where Brett went straight to the high-rollers blackjack tables and his bodyguard settled in a few tables away and proceeded to lose at the one dollar table betting erratically whilst keeping an eye on Brett Beaumont.

Crystal was hoping that she could get Brett drunk enough so that she could take him up to his room where he’d pass out so that she could complete her mission but Brett’s constitution prevailed and they drank and gambled into the wee hours when Brett was finally ready to go to bed. Lady luck was on his side and he won two thousand dollars and change.

“Doll, I’m way too drunk to perform and I think you’ve drained everything out of me anyway. I’ll come and see you at the show tomorrow, take a car home and buy yourself a nice dress and some sexy lingerie,” Brett said, stuffing notes down the front of Crystal’s dress which she found quite distasteful.

The security guy left his table and came over to Brett, supporting his drunken bulk and looking at Crystal like she was some kind of prostitute. He had undoubtedly checked her out and knew that she worked at the Boys Will Be Girls Review at the Ambassador and assumed that she was hooking. It would do Crystal no good to let him assume otherwise so she left Brett in the hands of his minder and took a town car back to her hotel.

To be continued

Ambassador Hotel and Casino, Las Vegas Nevada, March 1985

Crystal was fuming. She had been so close to getting what she needed from Brett Beaumont and had been thwarted by him, not deliberately, but by his ego and his addictions to booze and gambling. She still had two days left in which to get to the contents of his safe so she would need to use the time wisely.

Liam dresser lay on the bed in his cheap hotel room and looked at his crime wall, his notebook flat on his chest. He looked at the pictures of Crystal Greystone with both lust and resentment. He knew that she was evil. He knew that she was a spy. He wanted to capture her and make her pay for her sins and for him to receive the accolades he deserved for doing so. But he also wanted to possess her. We wanted to get her somewhere where he had complete control over her and make her realise that he loved her and she would fall for him too and beg him to make love to her.

He realised that his fantasies were childish and ridiculous. He knew what the practicalities of the situation dictated. At best he might be able to seduce Crystal and if not he would take what he wanted from her by force but eventually he would have to sacrifice her on the altar of democracy. It was a simple precept: he was good and she was evil. He would win and she would lose.

But first he would play in the grey area between black and white, between good and evil.

He looked at the pictures of Brett Beaumont; the handsome young, rich, brilliant scientist who was constantly forgiven his transgressions because he had a beautiful mind and Liam’s jealousy raged. Liam would make Brett Beaumont pay too. He might have a brilliant mind when it came to science but he was stupid when it came to women and his weaknesses repulsed Liam. He was a womaniser, a boozer and a gambler and he didn’t deserve Crystal Greystone. Liam would make Beaumont pay too when he took Crystal into custody. He would make sure that Beaumont's weaknesses were exposed publicly and no one at Lawrence Livermore Laboratory or the DoE would be able to save him. The current Presidential Administration had no time for men like Beaumont no matter how brilliant they were.

Liam realised the hypocrisy of his thoughts but he never entertained the concept that he might be going insane.

He looked at the pictures of Michelle Dupree. She was as tall as Crystal and had a similar build and she was pretty but she didn’t have Crystal's beauty; at least not in his mind. He knew that Crystal and Michelle had been fucking regularly during Brett’s absence but that didn’t make him jealous. Michelle was a transwoman was not a competitor. In fact the images in his mind of the two transwomen engaged in sexual congress fuelled his desires.

He had linked the pictures of Crystal Greystone and Brett Beaumont with red twine wrapped around stickpins. He also linked pictures of Crystal to Colonel William Spooner and Bronson Bateman with blue twine. Beside those pictures he pinned an article cut out of the Washington Post regarding Senator Palmer blocking the bill appropriating more Stinger missiles for the Mujahedeen rebels in Afghanistan. Beside that he pinned a news article reporting the murder suicide of Bronson Bateman and the whore. He also pinned to the wall an article reporting the suicide of Colonel William Spooner.

To anyone else but Liam the crime wall would appear the work of madman and Liam had kept the do-not-disturb sign on the door since his arrival, taking fresh sheet and towels from the housemaids but denying them access to his room. Studying the crime wall was giving him a headache when suddenly an idea came to him.

He couldn’t approach Crystal directly until he had proof positive of her crimes. He could prove that she was living under a false identity but her defence would be that as a transwoman it was the only she could live her life as a female. The rest was suspicion and conjecture for which he had only circumstantial evidence.

Maybe Michelle Dupree knew more than he thought she did? Maybe he could use her just like he had used Wendy Meakins. The thought intrigued him and the idea of taking Michelle to bed fired his imagination. Pillow talk with her could prove interesting and making love to her might seem like a second prize but it was only a stepping stone to first place and the gold medal: Crystal Greystone.

His cock engorged at the thought of it but tempting as it was he didn’t masturbate. He would save his seed for Michelle Dupree’s tight asshole.

Liam Dresser found Michelle Dupree and Crystal Greystone picking over the breakfast buffet at the Ambassador Hotel. Neither of them were big eaters but they had rehearsals and three shows to get through. They would carb load at breakfast and burn the energy during the day, douching away the detritus before the late show so that they were clean for any nocturnal sexual activity.

Liam was ravenous now that he had a clear objective and washed down eggs, bacon, sausage, hash browns, and pancakes smothered in maple syrup with coffee, sitting in a corner booth well away from the girls but where he had an unobstructed view of them. He followed Crystal to the lobby and watched her make a long phone call from the guest phone booth while Michelle smoked and drank more coffee in the restaurant.

The women were dressed in leotards and dance tights, their hair tied up and their makeup light. They wore sneakers but carried the high heels they would wear onstage to perform. They were joined by a couple of the drag queens who performed in the review who were similarly dressed for rehearsals. Checking out Crystal and Michelle in their leotards and tights had sexually stimulated Liam and he noticed that plenty of the other male patrons threw furtive glances their way.

Crystal finished her phone call and Michelle and the other drag queens extinguished cigarettes and the filed into The Envoy Cabaret and Liam watched through the open door as the choreographer and producer began to walk the girls through the rehearsal, tweaking things here and there and providing the girls with notes about their performances.

Liam left the girls knowing they would be busy right up until after the matinée performance and went to find Brett Beaumont.

Crystal had had a heated phone call with Stephan Boriliski, alias Steven Boland, whose number had been provided to her at the dead drop by her rezidentura colleague who was currently tasked with keeping an eye on Brett Beaumont and his security detail. The number she was given was answered by the operator at the Tropicana Hotel and Casino who put her through to Steven’s room.

Steven told Crystal that that rezidentura was disappointed in her progress. The documents she had copied before Professor Beaumont went out to the Nevada nuclear test site were useful but they needed copies of the documents he carried after the Cottage nuclear test so that Soviet scientists could evaluate the results and determine how far along the American’s were with the development of their Strategic Defense Initiative.

Crystal told Steven that she still had two days in which to get access to the documents and that she would not fail and Steven listened patiently.

“Crystal. You need to know that the Director of the First Chief Directorate of the Committee for State Security himself has directed that Crystal Greystone’s identity is expendable and secondary to the objective,” Steven breathed into the phone.

It was what Crystal feared most. The KGB was willing to ‘burn’ Crystal and extract Kyle Gordon. If they did that there was no guarantee that the rezidentura would create another female identity for Kyle. There were some in the KGB who were not at all happy that the KGB was using a transwoman as an operative when Kyle Gordon could operate efficiently and effectively in his legitimate male persona. Kyle may not be as successful in duping stupid American men, who let their ‘little head’ control their ‘big head’, but it was less distasteful. There were always women who were willing to prostitute themselves for money to undertake such tasks and they were expendable. Why waste a valuable asset like Kyle Gordon dressed as a woman?

“But you know how valuable Crystal is to the cause,” Crystal was tearing up.

It broke her heart to talk about herself in the third person.

“Yes. No one knows better than I Crystal but your identity is less important than the information that is held by Professor Beaumont. If you have to sacrifice Crystal’s identity to achieve the objective do it. Crystal can never be traced back to Kyle Gordon unless she is captured and that is unthinkable and you know what your duty is in the event of imminent apprehension,” Steven said gravely.

“I will carry out my duty sir,” Crystal whispered.

“The FBI and the DoD are still stirred up about what happened to Colonel Spooner in Washington. We think that for now your identity is safe but they may be looking for you. Get this done Crystal. I am here with your rezidentura support to assist you but the weight is on your shoulders,” Seven Boland broke the connection.

Crystal did not perform well during the rehearsal because her mind was on other things and the choreographer and producer wailed on her to get her mind in the game. She cleared her head and when it was time to go and get changed for the first performance of the day she was ready.

Stardust Resort and Casino, Las Vegas Nevada, March 1985

Liam found his feisty bellhop and slipped him a twenty to find out that Brett Beaumont had a late breakfast sent to his room and was yet to emerge. Liam took up his usual position in the Stardust’s lobby and ordered coffee whilst pretending to read the newspaper. Brett Beaumont's security detail sat near the Executive floor elevators looking a little tired, his suit wrinkled. He sipped coffee and tried to stay awake. It had been a long night.

Brett Beaumont emerged from the elevator just before noon looking refreshed and dressed smart in a sharp suit. He nodded at his security man and strode purposely to the gaming rooms where he began to bet heavily on blackjack, drinking bloody Mary’s, tipping the cocktail waitress generously whilst riding a rollercoaster of luck that saw him nearly bottom out then double his initial stake.

Liam hated Brett’s exceptional luck as much as he hated his good looks, flamboyance and wealth.

Brett gambled most of the day away and went back to his room late in the late afternoon and took a nap but first he called The Ambassador Hotel and left a message with the concierge for Crystal advising her that he would come to her late show and rendezvous with her at the meet-and-greet. He arose late, showered and changed into a nice suit and took a car to The Ambassador where he had booked a table in the Envoy Cabaret.

Ambassador Hotel and Casino, Las Vegas Nevada, March 1985

Brett watched Crystal perfume her ‘park and bark’ and was once again enamoured at her performance. Her high kicks in the chorus line made him think of how good it would feel having those long legs wrapped around him while he fucked her. His security detail had left him at the entrance to the Envoy Cabaret but lingered not far away from the door, fully expecting Brett to emerge with Crystal and take her back to his room at the Stardust. This would suit the bodyguard because he could go to his room and finally get a good night’s sleep.

Liam Dresser watched all this from the same table he had sat at the last time he had come to the Boys Will Be Girls Spectacular. There was no doubt that Crystal was the best performer in the review but Michelle Dupree was a close second.

The girls changed out back and came out for the meet-and-greet, Michelle wearing a silver party-dress and Crystal dressed quite the opposite in a stylish tight-fitting burgundy skirt-suit, her legs swathed in black fully-fashioned stockings, her feet shod in matching heels.

Brett moved in on Crystal before anyone else could get close to her and Liam moved in on Michelle.

“Thanks for the autograph Michelle, is there any chance that I can buy you a drink somewhere else?” Liam gave Michelle his best smile.

“Well it is late; where did you have in mind?” Michelle smiled back at him and Liam couldn’t help but compare her to Crystal and decided that she was still not as alluring and beautiful as Crystal but there was no doubt that she was a close second.

He glanced across and saw Brett guiding Crystal across the room towards the exit where his security detail was hovering.

“We could have a drink here in the bar,” Liam said hopefully but he saw Michelle frown.

“I’d invite you back to my hotel but it’s a bit of a dump,” Liam said turning down his mouth.

There was no way that Liam was taking anyone back to his hotel room. They would look at his crime-wall and think him crazy.

“A bottle of champagne can liven up any dump,” Michelle said hopefully.

Michelle was not averse to taking men up to her room but there was something about this guy. Liam was a cute name and he was a handsome, dark-haired and tanned thirty-something who had the gift of the gab but he gave off a vibe. He appeared a little uptight and he kept glancing over towards Crystal. Michelle thought he might be a cop of some kind so she decided to test the waters

“You know it’s a hundred dollars for the night right?” Michelle raised her brows to see how Liam would react.

If he was a cop he had to tell her now otherwise it would be entrapment.

“One hundred dollars to spend an evening with a girl like you is a pittance,” Liam smiled at Michelle.

“Ok. We can go up to my room. Order a bottle of champagne at the bar and we’ll take it up to my room,” Michelle leaned in and kissed Liam’s cheek.

While Liam fought his way to the bar Michelle jostled her way through the thinning crowd to Crystal and Brett who were near the exit engaged in a heated conversation. Crystal wanted Brett to take her to his room at the Stardust, ostensibly to make love but her real purpose was to copy his keycard or gain access to his safe. Brett wanted to gamble for a while at the Ambassador before they went back to his hotel.

“Hey you two; what’s happening?” Michelle could sense the unease.

“We are going to win big here at the Ambassador because I haven't had a chance to play the tables here and they are grist for the mill of the gambling machine that is Professor Brett Beaumont,” Brett chuckled, already well in the bag.

“Ok kids have fun and play safe. I’ve got a nice handsome man buying me champagne to take up to my room,” Michelle tried vainly to make Crystal jealous.

Brett’s eyes roved over Michelle Dupree, taking in her beauty, her long curvy body and her long nylon-sheathed limbs and Crystal noticed.

“Hey did I hear you right when you said that you and Michelle have adjoining rooms?” Brett smirked.

Crystal nodded and made no attempt to disguise her anger.

“Maybe we can fuck in your room tonight and listen in on your girlfriend and her man. I bet the walls are paper thin in a shithole like this,” Brett looked at Crystal and then at Michelle and sniggered.

“Do you have a connecting door?” Brett added when neither woman answered him.

“We do but you won’t be using it,” Crystal said dourly.

Michelle blushed but the idea of Crystal and Brett listening in through the wall while she was making love to a stranger was quite kinky. She could see that Crystal was uncomfortable with Brett's interest in her and his proposal that he and Crystal listen to Michelle fucking in the room next door and she couldn’t help feel a little schadenfreude because she was jealous of Brett taking Crystal away from her,

Crystal dug Brett in the ribs and led him away to the casino, his security detail tagging along at a respectable distance.

Liam returned from the bar with the champagne just as Crystal and Brett were leaving the cabaret.

“Is she your friend?” Liam nodded at Crystal’s back receding down the corridor.

“Well yeah. We’re both in the review but we are also friends I guess,” Michelle replied.

“That guy she’s with seems like a bit of a dick,” Liam ventured.

“Not the half of it. Never mind those two let’s go up to my room and get comfortable,” Michelle put her arm through Liam’s and led him towards the lobby.

Michelle allowed Liam to kiss her in the elevator and she held his hand and led him to her room.

Liam was looking forward to enjoying the delights of Michelle’s body. She was wearing a sequined silver sheath-dress with spaghetti straps that was outrageously short; her perky cleavage and long legs displayed to perfection. Her legs were sheathed in shimmering flesh-toned pantyhose and Liam was amazed that she could walk in her heels because they were so high.

They stopped outside Michelle’s room for a long languid kiss which Liam enjoyed immensely but he was acutely aware that Crystal Greystone’s room was right there next to Michelle’s. That was the room he would really like to be going into. That said, the girl he was holding in his arms was beautiful and exotic.

Her breasts pressed into his chest, her lips were soft, her breath was sweet and her perfume was divine. She wrapped herself around him sensuously and slinky like a cat. His hand went to her thigh and stroked her toned flesh, delighting in the feel of her diaphanous nylons on his fingertips.

Michelle was taken by the handsome man. He was good kisser and she felt safe and comfortable in his arms. She could feel his hard, muscled body through his suit and his even harder appendage pressing on her belly.

She opened the door to her room and they sidled inside, still embracing each other. Liam kicked the door closed, put down the bottle of champagne, and guided Michelle to the bed, his lips still pressed to hers, his hands on her buttocks. He lifted her up and lay her on the bed and looked down at her in the lamplight.

She smiled up at him for an instant Liam imagined that it was Crystal Greystone but he shook away the image and concentrated on giving Michelle the attention she deserved.

He climbed on the bed and kissed her and she slowly undressed him and when he was naked she admired his tanned, toned fit body. Liam hadn't given himself much time off during his stay in Las Vegas but when he had he’d spent it in the gym and swimming laps in the hotel pool and lazing in the sun. He stood up to remove the last of clothes and gazed down at her.

“You are a beautiful young woman,” Liam smiled down at Michelle who blushed with embarrassment.

It was nice to be with a handsome man who appreciated her. Most of the men who paid for her services were older and they pawed at her and slobbered over her, rutting her like an animal and leaving as soon as they were spent. They often treated her cruelly but Michelle needed the money so she endured it.

“You’re quite handsome yourself,” Michelle smiled up at Liam and waggled her fingers at him.

He joined her on the bed, looming over her, his long thick cock sticking out proud and needful.

“Let me take off my dress,” Michelle whispered.

“No,” Liam whispered and smiled at her and lay down on top of her and Michelle giggled in his ear.

Her voice was both seductive and girlish and Liam’s ardour burgeoned.

He pressed his body to hers and kissed her and Michelle wrapped her arms around him and sighed into his mouth. His cock was pressing into her belly and her own cock was becoming tumescent and uncomfortable, lying along her perineum. Because the dress was so short and revealing she had tucked and taped and was now paying the price.

Liam was able to free Michelle’s breasts without taking off her dress or her brassiere and he stroked her milky globes and tweaked her nipples. Her breasts felt firm, but yielding. He knew that they were enhanced by silicone but he didn’t care; they were magnificent and he lowered his face to them.

Michelle guided his leonine head from breast to breast and he alternated sucking and nibbling her nipples which were pliant and succulent, her areola dark pink against her alabaster skin. Michelle felt ripples of delight radiating from her teats as Liam attended to them and she moaned and reached for him, finding him hard and his glans wet with pre-ejaculate.

“Now you can take your dress off,” Liam whispered and Michelle spanked his bottom playfully.

Liam rolled off her and lifted the hem of the dress along her body and pulled the dress over her head and dropped it on the floor. Her brassiere followed.

Michelle looked stunning lying on the bed in full makeup, her hair tousled by their foreplay, her long slim body with creamy white flesh, the globes of her bosom rising as she breathed, her long legs clad in shimming sheer pantyhose, white satin bikini-panties covering her pubis.

She gazed up at him, sucking a fingertip seductively.

Liam reached his hand under the waistband of her pantyhose and pushed his fingers into her groin.

“Ouch!” Michelle yelped when Liam ripped away her tucking tape and exposed her semi-rigid penis.

“I’m sorry,” Liam leaned down and kissed her.

“No you're not,” she said sulkily but she put her arms around his neck and returned his kisses.

“Not now,” Liam sniggered as he prised her penis from between her legs and felt her scrotum fill as she lowered her testes from inside her inguinal canals.

“Oh my god!” Michelle sighed as Liam caressed her erection through her slinky pantyhose and panties.

“Feels nice huh?” Liam smirked and kissed her again.

Michelle reached for Liam’s cock and pressed it against hers and wrapped her arms around him and her legs around his waist. Liam pressed his body against Michelle’s delighting in the feel of her breasts on his chest, her soft flesh against his, the bulge of her erection rubbing on his through layers of nylons, lycra and satin.

They frotted and kissed and rolled on the bed, both of them releasing pre-cum, Michelle’s panties becoming wet with it. Liam drove his tongue into her mouth and Michelle reciprocated and they kissed and cuddled until Michelle pushed Liam off her and lay on the bed gasping.

“You nearly made me come,” she giggled and Liam smiled down at her.

She reached out and snagged a driblet of clear viscous pre-ejaculate and brought it to her lips, smiling cheekily up at Liam.

“How does it taste?” he grinned down at her.

“I’ll let you know,” she said breathily and lifted her head off the pillows and took Lima’s cock into her mouth.

Liam growled as Michelle suckled his penis. He looked down as her red-lipsticked lips closed around his shaft and she moved her mouth up and down on him, using her tongue to tickle his fraenulum. He reached for her cock and freed it from her pantyhose and panties and began to stroke it, milking globules of sliver pre-cum from the eye which he used to lubricate the shaft.

Her mouth was so warm and wet and he felt his cock quiver as Michelle elicited ringlets of intense pleasure from his phallus, her hand softly cupped his scrotum, gently stroking and squeezing it.

Liam spun around to that they were lying anatomically inverted so that each could suckle the other’s genitals. In the classic sixty-nine position Liam was able to slide his tongue along the shaft of Michelle’s penis, then he engulfed her glans and sucked and nibble the pink spongy flesh, causing her to buck underneath him as her passion mounted.

Her muffled groans were stifled by Liam’s thick, tumescent cock which she sucked and slavered in turn. Liam stroked Michelle’s thighs. Delighting in the sensation of her silky pantyhose on his fingers which ignited fresh fervours of rapture in Michelle as the gossamer fabric caressed her tender flesh.

Liam felt himself approaching extremis and Michelle was not far away either and they both sensed it. Michelle opened her legs wide as Liam sprang from her body and turned over to face her. He lowered his face to hers and kissed her as his hand slid along her flat stomach and inside her panties and tore a hole in her pantyhose adjacent to her sphincter.

She arched her back to accommodate Liam as he mounted her and eased aside the gusset of her panties so that his cock could slip into the hole he had made in her pantyhose and align itself with her sphincter.

Michelle was prepared for sex and had already lubricated her anus, her sphincter was wet with Liam’s spittle from their oral encounters and it yielded to his steely rod as he slowly thrust himself inside her. Their lip were locked together and they grunted and moaned into each other’s mouths as Liam pushed his cock deep inside Michelle’s anus, her legs wrapping around him, her silky pantyhose sliding along his flanks, her heels gouging his flesh encouraging him to fuck her.

He pounded Michelle into the bed and she writhed and wriggled underneath him as his cock battered her anus. The shaft wrested freshets of delight from her tight sphincter and his glans pressed on her prostate causing her cock to release a continual dribble of pre-seminal fluid.

Liam was engrossed by the feel of her tight, pliant anus as it encompassed his penis, squeezing it softly like a handmaid milking a teat. He pushed his cock all the way inside Michelle and growled as he ejaculated and flooded her back passage with his issue.

Michelle felt Liam come deep inside her and her own penis erupted and her panties were suddenly drenched with her spend.

They clung to each other, Michelle’s legs scissoring against Liam’s flanks, her nails raking his back, their screams of lust stifled by their kisses as they writhed and rolled around on the sex-sodden sheets.

Liam rolled onto his back, Michelle still impaled on his engorged shaft and Michelle threw back her head and moaned like a slattern, driblets of her issue trickling into her saturated panties. Liam reached out and squeezed the last globules of her spunk as the very last of his ejaculate oozed into Michelle’s tight anus.

Tight Michelle’s anus might be but when she dismounted, a flood of Liam’s semen dribbled from her sphincter and soaked into her panties and pantyhose.

“I’m going to shower and change my underwear,” Michelle whispered. A little embarrassed by her appearance and the way she had behaved like a wanton whore.

“You are not! Come here you minx,” Liam’s hand shot out and he grabbed her wrist and pulled her back on the bed.

She giggled and he laughed and they rolled around on the bed oblivious to the semen clinging to their flesh and soaking into the sheets.

Downstairs in the gaming rooms Brett was gambling heavy, riding his luck like a rollercoaster and he was drinking heavy too. Crystal decided to change tactics. If she could get Brett drunk enough to pass out in her room she could copy his keycard and access his room at the Stardust while he was out. This was less dangerous than trying to copy the documents in his safe while he slept. If she was successful she could possibly keep Crystal’s identity. If she was found rifling his safe or if she drugged him or worse if she had to kill him her identity would be burnt.

She encouraged Brett to bet, clinging to him, kissing him when he won and kissing him when he lost. She made sure the cocktail waitress brought them both a steady supply of gin and tonics; Brett’s ‘gambling drink’. She’d tipped the waitress a fifty to provide Brett with doubles whilst her own drinks were tonic water without the gin. The waitress had no qualms helping a girl work a mark. This was Las Vegas and it was eat or be eaten.

By four in the morning Brett was unsteady on his feet although he was far from passing out. As usual his luck had held up and he tripled his initial stake. Crystal was aware that Brett’s security detail was getting agitated and he looked relieved when Brett had drunk and gambled enough and they left the casino to go up to Crystal's room.

As they were not going back to the Stardust where the bodyguard had a room across the hall from Brett, he would have to stay close and he was not happy that he would have to park his ass in a chair at the end of the corridor where he could keep an eye on Crystal’s room.

Neither Brett nor Crystal could give a flying fuck about the minder’s uncomfortableness. Brett wanted to fuck Crystal and Crystal wanted Brett’s keycard.

Brett was drunk but exhilarated by his winning streak and keen to fuck. Crystal was keen to let him fuck her and expend the last of his energy so that he might sleep afterwards and she could take his keycard from his pants and copy it.

Despite being pissed at him Crystal became immediately aroused as the Brett embraced her; his tongue explored her mouth and she reciprocated. Even though Brett had behaved like a spoiled asshole all evening, his good looks and muscular body were enticing and she might as well enjoy him for what she believed would be the last time.

She wrapped her arms around him and her fingers dug into the hard flesh of his shoulders. She lifted one leg and locked it around his calf; moulding herself to his body.

It was not only the flesh of Brett's body that was hard; she could feel his manhood, thick, long, and hard as steel pressing against her. She complied when Brett began to ease her towards the bed.

Brett unclenched her arms from around him and pushed Crystal down on the bed. She lay on the threadbare coverlet, her legs spread as far as her tight skirt would allow. Brett gazed at her beautiful face and then his eyes began a journey down her body, tight satin blouse clinging to her flat chest, trim waist and flat stomach and those lovely long legs sheathed in gauzy French stockings. The split in her skirt displayed one of her legs all the way to the top of her thigh.

"Magnificent," Brett gasped and ripped off his clothes.

Crystal watched Brett undress; his body tanned, tight and muscled. When he dropped his briefs she was one again impressed by the heft of his manhood; it was large in both girth and length. A filament of clear pre-ejaculate oozed from his glans and the appendage appeared to her to be palpitating.

Crystal struggled out of her jacket and was attempting to unbutton her blouse when Brett fell on her and began to ravish her.

"Don't worry about the suit; I'll buy you all the clothes you want with my winnings," he growled as he crushed his mouth to hers and tore open her blouse.

He entwined his fingers in the clasp of her brassiere and opened it roughly to reveal her meagre breasts. Crystal gasped, Brett was being quite rough with her and she kinda liked it.

Brett was straddled Crystal, kissing her almost viciously. His big hands pawed at her tiny breasts, tweaking her nipples and Crystal gasped into Brett's mouth; she had not seen him behave like this before and she quite liked it.

Brett's lips fell to her breast and he nipped at her teats as they hardened. Crystal squealed and stroked his leonine head, encouraging him to suckle her nipples. Crystal moaned like a whore as Brett lay on top of her, pressing his huge cock against her belly as he sucked and nibbled her nipples.

Brett moved his mouth from her breasts and returned his lips to hers, kissing her passionately, rubbing his cock on her flat stomach. Crystal began to writhe and moan underneath the big man.

Brett pushed himself up and extricated himself from Crystal's grasp. He flipped her over and tore off her skirt, renting it in two along the pleat. He tore off the remains Crystal's blouse leaving her dressed only in panties, stockings and heels.

He flipped her over again so that she was on her back facing him. They were both panting with exertion and lust and Crystal reached up to him, beseeching him to come into her arms, which he did. He fell on her and Crystal lifted her legs and wrapped them around his torso.

They kissed and pawed at each other, Crystal bit his lip and drew blood and Brett raked her milky white thighs, scratching her soft creamy flesh. Crystal lifted her groin off the bed, pressing her panty-clad crotch against his hard cock.

Crystal's panties were torn from her body and with it her tuck. Her penis was erect and leaking pre-ejaculate.

"Fuck me you animal," Crystal growled and bit Brett's earlobe.

Brett lifted Crystal's legs and opened them wide; he put her ankles over his shoulders so that Crystal lay under him, her buttocks raised. He kissed her nylon-encased ankles, nipping at the flesh and Crystal reached for his manhood, she bucked under him, pressing his penis into her puckered bud.

"Please fuck me!" Crystal pleaded, batting her eyelashes at him like a slattern.

Brett impaled Crystal with one thrust and Crystal groaned as it felt like she was being split open.

Crystal pulled his face to hers; she was moaning with pain and pleasure. Brett's cock was a burning poker inside her tight rectum but underneath the pain, an intense sensuality and desire was building. Crystal wrapped her arms around Brett's neck and kissed him deeply and intensely. Crystal began to fuck him; lifting herself up off the bed, grinding her buttocks to intensify their pleasure. His huge cock was triggering the pleasure centres in the nerves ringing her sphincter and pressing delightfully on her prostate.

Brett began to fuck the beautiful transwoman lying beneath him impaled on his phallus. Her tight passage had been pre-lubricated, and now the rivulet of precum leaking from Brett's cock commingled with the lubricant greasing Crystal's back passage. He was able to fuck Crystal with long slow strokes as she lay beneath him, writhing with pleasure and raising her buttocks to meet his thrusts.

Her tight anus gripped his cock and Brett could feel her internal muscles squeezing and milking his pulsating phallus. Crystal groaned and howled, hanging onto Brett with her arms around his neck and her heels around his flank; she rutted like a harlot as Brett's cock elicited waves of pleasure from deep in her rectum.

They both screamed when they climaxed; Brett thrust himself inside Crystal as deep as he could; his scrotum resting in the crease of her buttocks as his penis convulsed and ejaculated his hot seed deep inside her.

Crystal felt him discharge his semen inside her and it triggered her own orgasm; her anus undulated and contracted, milking Brett of his spend as she herself spent against him; her secretions smearing on his tight belly as he drove his cock deep inside her. They kissed, pawed and raked at each other as they climaxed; their shrieks and groans reverberating around the room and echoing through the walls.

When they finally finished rutting they were both bathed in sweat as they lay panting, Brett lay exhausted on top of Crystal, she gasped for breath as Brett's semen dribbled from her sphincter, his cock slowly deflating inside her.

When they had recovered enough to catch their breath Crystal languidly placed her arms around Brett's neck and he lowered his lips to hers. Their kisses were tender, soft and loving now that their lust was sated.

Brett rolled off Crystal and staggered to the shower, still drunk and exhausted after their torrid lovemaking.

Crystal leapt from the bed and rummaged around in Brett’s pants until she found his hotel room keycard. She punched the combination into her room safe and took out the card reader.

She pushed the keycard into the slot waiting for the little red diode to turn green, anxiously watching the bathroom door just like she had before in Brett’s room at the Stardust. The diode turned green and Crystal extracted the copy just as her worst nightmare became a reality when Brett suddenly came out of the bathroom.

“Hey I was thinking we might get room service… what the fuck!” Brett's eye’s narrowed as he realised what Crystal was doing.

They screamed at each other and Crystal tried to make a break for the door, knocking over furniture as Brett lunged for her. Crystal wasn’t fast enough to escape his clutches. He dragged her to the bed and forced her down on it, his anger inducing almost superhuman strength. Crystal tried to beat him and force his hands away from her throat but she couldn’t match his strength.

She began to choke and her vision was narrowing as she neared unconsciousness. She worked her tongue in the back of her mouth trying to release the cap on her molar. Underneath was a cyanide capsule that would bring about her death. Being taken alive was unthinkable and unforgiveable.

*****

In the room next door Liam and Michelle lay awake listening to Brett and Crystal going at it. Brett’s assumption that the walls were paper thin on the floor where Crystal and Michelle were staying was a fact.

Liam's jealousy burned but he couldn’t help but becoming concupiscent as he listened to Crystal being fucked by Brett Beaumont, the sounds coming through the wall inspired pornographic scenes in his head.

Michelle saw the sheet tent above Liam’s groin and she grinned, she too was becoming turned on by the sex sounds coming from the adjoining room. She snaked her hand down Liam’s body and circled her fingers lightly around his long, thick appendage.

Liam turned to her and kissed her in the dark, imagining that it was Crystal’s lips he was kissing.

Michelle’s anus was still full of Liam’s last load and she slid herself under his body, eased the gusset of her panties aside and guided his engorged manhood to her puckered bud knowing that no lubricant would be required. Her panties were sodden with cum, the front of them soaked with her own juices and the seat damp with Liam’s. The room reeked of sex. The sounds coming from the adjoining room added to the piquancy of debauchery.

Liam slid his cock into Michelle and pressed his mouth to hers to stifle her moans. He wanted to listen to Crystal moaning like a slattern and whimpering like a whore through the bedroom wall. He imagined it was Crystal he was fucking when Michelle locked her stocking-sheathed legs around his waist and bucked underneath him.

Liam timed his thrust with the gasps he heard coming through the wall, Michelle’s tight anus substituting for Crystal’s. Michelle mewed and bucked beneath him as Liam slammed his cock in and out of her snug channel, his lust fired by jealousy and anger. Michelle was oblivious to that and although she could hear Crystal whimpering and Brett grunting as they fucked next door and it heightened her lust, she was concentrating on enjoying the long thick cock that was jackhammering her anus and wringing forth delightful feelings as Liam Dresser skewered her sphincter and pounded her prostate.

Michelle released into her panties, her orgasm creeping up on her and overwhelming her. She clung to Liam as he buggered her, her rigid cock spewing forth her steaming issue.

Liam felt Michelle orgasm, she shuddered beneath him, her anus palpitating, squeezing and releasing his cock, her sodden panties becoming warm and wetter as her creamy seed soaked through them and smeared her slithery spunk on his hard belly. Her legs scissored around his waist, encouraging him; the soft silky nylon caressing his flesh.

But Liam waited until he heard Crystal cry out in the adjoining room. Brett’s moans joined hers but Liam somehow filtered them out, all he could hear was Crystal’s moaning and whimpering as she came.

A wave of intense jealousy washed over Liam as he pounded his cock harder and faster into Michelle’s tight anus. In his mind he was revenge fucking Crystal but it was Michelle who was taking the brunt of his frenzied fucking. She clung to him as his cock battered her ass, his mouth mashed her lips and his tongue lashed her mouth. She could feel his tears falling on her face and taste his stifled sobs.

Michelle mistook Liam’s tears as a sign that he was besotted with her, unaware that he was crying because of his longing for Crystal.

Michelle felt Liam’s cock well up to full tumescence and then he ejaculated deep inside her, depositing a steaming sea of hot glutinous sperm in her ass. He was shaking with the intensity of the orgasm and it triggered Michelle’s second orgasm which was more anal than penile. Warm rings of pleasure radiated from her prostate and sphincter whilst her cock could only produce a dribble of ejaculate but it was lovely all the same.

When Liam descended from his tumultuous climax he lay on top of Michelle shuddering, stifling his sobs. She stroked his back and whispered endearments in his ear and eventually Liam rolled off her and lay beside her.

In the dark silence they listened to Liam and Crystal through the wall. There was a muffled conversation, after-sex pillow talk; Brett’s deep booming utterances contrasting with Crystal’s husky and sensual voice. Brett's voice faded and they heard a shower running, the pipes hammering in the wall because of the cheap plumbing.

Then there was silence.

Suddenly there was a cacophony of voices, loud and accusatory. Brett was screaming at Crystal and she was screeching back at him. The sounds of a violent struggle reverberated through the wall accompanied by the clatter of furniture being overturned.

Liam reacted instinctively, his actions driven by his love for Crystal, his hatred for Brett Beaumont and his jealousy. He raced to his jacket and pulled out his service weapon, then he kicked open the door adjoining the two rooms and saw that Brett Beaumont had Crystal Greystone by the throat.

Liam shot Brett Beaumont twice and turned to the main doorway just as Brett Beaumont’s bodyguard burst through it, pistol in hand. Liam shot the bodyguard twice but sustained a wound to his neck.

Michelle had followed Liam through the door and stood there dazed and confused, paralysed with shock. Brett Beaumont lay dead, slumped on the bed, his minder lay dead in the doorway; the room reeked of gunsmoke and blood. Liam Dresser fell to the floor clutching his neck, freshets of blood spurting through his fingers. Crystal scrambled over to check on Liam Dresser who was clutching his throat and writhing in agony on the floor.

Steven Boland entered the room, stepped over the bodyguard’s corpse, picked up the guard’s pistol and shot Liam in the head. The last thing Liam Dresser saw before he died was Crystal Greystone’s shocked face lingering over him like an angel.

Michelle Dupree was too shocked to scream and she didn’t feel a thing when Steven Boland put two bullets in her head.

“What the fuck happened Crystal?” Steven asked as he pulled the minder’s body inside the room and closed the door.

“He came out of the shower and saw me with the card reader. He went berserk. I couldn’t put him down and he was strangling me,” Crystal worked hard at controlling her anguish.

“Where did you come from?” she whispered.

“I have been tailing you. The rezidentura insisted that I do everything in my power to ensure that you get copies of the Cottage test results,” Steven explained as wiped his fingerprints off the pistol and put it back in the bodyguard’s hand.

“We don’t have much time. The gunshots will keep the looky-loos in their hotel rooms with their doors locked but the Las Vegas Metropolitan Police Department will be on their way. Get dressed and leave everything behind except for your field-craft accoutrements,” Steven looked anxiously around the room, making decisions on the fly.

Crystal cleared out her safe, taking her onetime pads, her safe-codebreaker and her Minox camera tossing them all into a large carryall along with her makeup kit and her purse. She dressed hastily in unassuming street clothes: skirt, blouse, pantyhose, panties and low heels.

Steven picked up the copy of Brett’s hotel room keycard that Crystal had made and waved it at her.

“Here, you know what to do with this,” he held it up and Crystal snatched it.

Crystal ran down the corridor to the stairwell. Some of the doors opened a crack and the occupants peered out but they were too scared to come out of their rooms. She ran down the stairs and took a deep breath before opening the door to the lobby. Confusion reigned and the hotel security people and reception staff were trying to guide panicking guests and gamblers out of the hotel in an orderly fashion.

Crystal joined the crowd and was swept out through the door past reception and into the street. She strode carefully but confidently away from the Ambassador Hotel and Casino and four blocks away, where things were normal, she hailed a cab to the Stardust Resort.

Crystal was able to take the elevator to Brett Beaumont’s room, open his safe and photograph the contents of the Cottage file without being disturbed. She took the elevator down to the lobby and walked two blocks south where she called her rezidentura support. The agent picked up Crystal and took her back to his hotel where she handed over the Minox, scrubbed off her makeup, washed and dried her hair and changed into a lightweight men’s suit.

Crystal Greystone ceased to exist at that exact moment in time.

Kyle Gordon checked that he his identity documents were in order and took a car to the airport where he flew back to Washington on the next available flight.

Ambassador Hotel and Casino, Las Vegas Nevada, March 1985

Detective Sergeant Keith Johnston of the LVMPD met with Special Agent Nigel Harris of the FBI at the crime scene tape blocking access to Crystal Greystone’s hotel room at the Ambassador Hotel

The hotel room was a bloodbath.

“Well this looks like a shit sandwich,” Keith Johnson sighed, looking bluntly at Nigel Harris.

They looked at the four dead bodies and shook their heads.

“Do we know who they are?” Nigel Harris called out to lead CSI investigator.

They stepped into the hotel room avoiding the crime scene investigators as much as possible. One of the CSI’s handed Detective Johnson Brett Beaumont and Michelle Dupree’s driver’s licences then handed Agent Harris Liam Dressers FBI identification wallet containing his badge and ID card.

“He’s one of yours?” Johnson pointed his foot at Liam Dresser’s body.

“I knew him. Came into the field office giving me some cockamamie story about being on vacation but he had received a tip regarding a case he was working on. I should have smelled something was wrong but we’re old buddies to I let him use my office,” Harris admitted.

“I’m sure you guys with all your gadgets and gizmos will be able to find out exactly what he was looking for?” Johnson quipped and Harris nodded.

“Two guns; four bodies. That piece is Dresser’s service weapon. I’m guessing the dead guy near the door was carrying the other weapon,” Harris commented.

“Tranny could be hooker. You guys find any drugs?” Johnson called out to the senior CSI tech.

“The Beaumont guy was carrying a baggie of cocaine. Didn’t find anything else. We haven’t processed the transwoman’s room yet,” the tech answered.

“This room was occupied by a Miss Crystal Greystone. She works the review downstairs in the Envoy Lounge. So does Ms Dupree over there. LVMPD officers are holding Fred Winebrow, the casino manager and entertainment director, in his office. You’re going to want to talk to him,” The CSI tech added.

Detective Sergeant Keith Johnston and Special Agent Nigel Harris worked the crime together, processing the scene, interviewing witnesses and following leads.

Michelle Dupree had been found lying on the floor dressed only in pink semen-soaked satin panties, tan pantyhose and a transparent black chemise that she had hastily donned before going through the door adjoining her room to Crystal’s. She had sustained two gunshot wounds to the head. Credentials found in her room confirmed that body of the transgender female was Michelle Dupree. Later at the morgue Fred Winebrow was shown the body and agreed that it was Michelle Dupree.

Michelle’s mother and father refused to make the journey to formally identify the body. To them their son had ceased to exist when he told them that he was woman trapped in a man’s body and they absolutely refused to acknowledge the existence of Michelle Dupree.

Brett Beaumont’s body was easily identifiable as was Special Agent Liam Dresser. The third body took a little while to be identified.

The third man found dead at the scene was identified as Frank Mitchell, a retired US Marshal working for a protective security and private investigation service based in Los Angeles California hired by the Lawrence Livermore Laboratory to protect Professor Brett Beaumont.

Bullets extracted from the Brett Beaumont and Frank Mitchell matched the weapon issued to Special Agent Liam Dresser by the FBI. Liam Dresser and Michelle Dupree had been shot by the weapon owned by Frank Mitchell who had held a legal conceal and carry permit.

In both hotel rooms there was evidence of vigorous sexual activity in the beds. Semen belonging to Liam Dresser was found on Michelle Dupree’s bed linen, on her body and in her anus. Her semen was also abundant. Beaumont’s semen was found on Crystal Greystone’s undergarments, left behind at the scene and what was believed to be her semen was found on Brett Beaumont’s torso.

“It’s like a fucking orgy took place in these rooms!” one of the CSI’s was said to have exclaimed whilst processing the scene.

DNA matching was a long and costly process and the Las Vegas Metropolitan Police Department and the FBI were more than confident that the bodies were identified sufficiently and correctly enough to preclude its use.

FBI Field Office, Lake Mead Boulevard Las Vegas Nevada, April 1985

Based on the crime scene presentation, accounts given by third parties and the evidence found in Liam Dresser’s hotel room, the LVMPD and the FBI had a workable hypothesis as to what had happened. The Deputy Chief of the LVMPD and the Special Agent in Charge of the FBI’s Las Vegas Field office sat around a table in a soundproof room and listened to what Detective Sergeant Keith Johnston and Special Agent Nigel Harris had to say. They told their story to an audience who were at first shocked and astounded and then alarmed at what the two law enforcement officers had to say.

Their theory was that Special Agent Liam Dresser had become infatuated by Crystal Greystone, a transgender entertainer and prostitute whom Dresser had accused of being a KGB operative and involved in the deaths of Bronson Bateman, a Washington lobbyist and a US Air Force officer named Colonel William Spooner. Dresser’s Special Agent in Charge in Washington had rightly dismissed the claims due to lack of evidence.

This had enraged Dresser who had tracked Crystal Greystone to the Pink Parrot nightclub in Washington and failing to find her there had engaged in sexual congress with a crossdresser named Wendy Meakins in order to find out where Crystal was located.

He then took all of his annual leave at short notice and followed Crystal to Las Vegas where he tracked her down working in a review at the Ambassador Hotel and Casino. Looking at the crazy ‘crime-wall’ that Dresser had created in his hotel room and the delusional scribbles in his notebook, it was deduced that Dresser had convinced himself that Ms Greystone was attempting to somehow subvert Professor Brett Beaumont.

A psychiatrist brought in by the FBI determined that Dresser’s infatuation with Crystal Dresser was a kind of obsessive delusion brought about by a psychotic paranoid condition and erotomanic delusions.

Brett Beaumont was well known for his excesses and had not only engaged in drunken gambling binges whilst he was in Las Vegas but had also used the services of prostitutes. A young well-endowed young blonde woman who was seen standing beside him whilst he was playing blackjack in the Stardust Casino confirmed that he had paid for her services. Fred Winebrow, the Ambassador Hotel’s casino manager and entertainment director confirmed that Crystal Greystone had left the cabaret at least twice with Beaumont and although Winebrow wouldn’t admit it, it was assumed that Crystal was hooking.

Crystal had been seen in his company of Brett Beaumont quite often, canoodling with him in the bars, restaurants, the lobby, and on the gaming floors and had been seen inside his hotel room by a room attendant delivering champagne. Witnesses had seen Crystal leaving the Envoy Cabaret with Brett Beaumont the evening of the murders, accompanying him whilst he played the gaming tables. They later took the elevator up to her room in the Ambassador Hotel.

The hypothesis was that Liam Dresser had taken Michelle Dupree up to her hotel room where they had engaged in sexual congress. Michelle Dupree’s room adjoined Crystal Greystone’s and Dresser had heard Crystal Greystone and Brett Beaumont having sex through the permeable hotel room wall. This had ignited his intense jealousy which was well-chronicled in his notebook. Driven by his paranoia and infatuation with Crystal, Liam Dresser had undergone a psychotic break during which he had burst into Crystal’s hotel room and shot Brett Beaumont to death.

Hearing the shots, Brett Beaumont’s bodyguard Frank Mitchell had entered the room and both men had shot it out; both of them suffering fatal gunshot wounds in the melee. Michelle Dupree had been killed in the crossfire and was considered collateral damage.

Professor Beaumont’s hotel room was sealed not long after he had been identified. Given the sensitive nature of Beaumont’s work agents from the FBI and representatives from the DoE had searched his room and found that the sensitive documents held my Professor Beaumont in his hotel safe untouched. They assessed that as the documents had not been stolen, the secrets they contained remained undisclosed and secure.

Crystal Greystone had disappeared. The identity she was using was that of a baby girl who had died at birth in Colorado in 1964. Crystal had acquired a Social Security number in 1983 and then acquired other identity documents all using a false birth certificate.

None of the addresses on her identification documents or her employment record checked out. The only valid address investigators could find in her name was a post office box which was found to be empty. Dresser’s claims that she was a Soviet spy might indeed be true. The transwoman in the pictures with Colonel William Spooner having illicit sex which had been used to blackmail him was identified as most likely being Crystal Greystone. Either that or Crystal was just a prostitute who had been duped or paid to participate in the honey trap set by foreign operatives.

An alternative theory was that Crystal Greystone had assumed the dead girl’s identity so that she could live as a woman. Unless she was apprehended there was no real way to know. She could be a Soviet spy as Liam Dresser claimed or she could be an unfortunate transgender showgirl and hooker who was desperately trying to pass as a real woman and who had witnessed the killings and been so overwhelmed by the horror that she had fled, leaving behind all of her possessions.

An APB had been issued for her to be taken into custody as a material witness. Quantico’s Counterespionage Section had taken over that part of the investigation and were now in charge of the hunt for Crystal Greystone.

The LVPD, FBI and DoE were all anxious to keep the details out of the press and it was leaked that a jealous suitor and a high roller had shot it out in a Las Vegas hotel room when the jealous suitor found the woman he was infatuated with in the arms of another man. No mention was made of the FBI, Lawrence Livermore Laboratory, the DoE or Project Excalibur.

The DoE was happy to have the sensitive documents held by Professor Beaumont returned to them and the FBI was happy to keep the bizarre circumstances of Special Agent Dresser’s last days under wraps. His family was told that he had been killed during a secret mission of great national importance. They went as far as putting his picture on the FBI Wall of Honor which memorialises FBI Agents who have made the ultimate sacrifice in the performance of their duties.

Throb Nightclub, Folsom Street San Francisco, May 1986

The woman stood on the stage lit by a single spotlight. She was singing a cover of Irma Thomas’ Anyone Who Knows What Love Is and the normally noisy nightclub was hushed. Every patron in the club was watching; listening to her sing in raptured silence.

The woman’s emerald green eyes were enhanced by heavy black eyeliner and mascara and colourful eyeshadow, her lips full, red and pouty, her pretty face framed by a teased-out burgundy bob. She looked like a woman: she walked like a woman and talked like a woman, her voice husky and sensual like Kathleen Turner. Her skin was flawless and alabaster white with a scattering of freckles.

No one would ever guess that underneath that glitz and glamour beat the heart of twenty-three-year-old Kyle Gordon who had moved to San Francisco from Washington over a year ago after selling his flower shop, Fresh Scents, to his employee and friend Jeremy Proctor. He opened a similar business with the same name in the Castro District of San Francisco.

Michelle Dupree was a transgender woman who had once had a good lawyer and had legally changed the gender on all of her identity documents except her birth certificate to female. She had died in a shootout in a Las Vegas hotel. Her family had disowned her and when her body was shipped home her father cremated her without ceremony and poured her ashes and her death certificate into the trash and tried his best to forget about the son who had betrayed him and become a woman. Nobody thought to cancelled Michelle Dupree’s driver’s licence, social security and passport.

Stephan Boriliski and the KGB rezidentura had been easily able to duplicate the documents inserting the face of the now defunct Crystal Greystone.

Kyle Gordon had taken Michelle Dupree’s identity and used it to legitimise his female persona. When Kyle moved to California he resurrected Michelle Dupree and over time updated her driver’s licence and passport so that they were legal documents and no longer forgeries.

Michelle auditioned for a position as a performer at Throb nightclub and became part of the popular drag queen review. Her job required that she entertain and engage with the clientele when not performing on stage and it was no burden.

She was waiting for her latest beau, Mitch Freeman, a Lieutenant in the US Navy stationed at the Hunters Point Naval Shipyard, home port of the USS Missouri battle group. He had told Michelle that he was an expert in the maintenance and operation of the Tomahawk Land Attack Missile. A long-range, all-weather, jet-powered, subsonic cruise missile that is primarily used by the United States Navy for ship and submarine based land-attack operations.

Michelle had pretended to be inanely bored when Mitch rambled on about how important and vital his knowledge and expertise were to the US Navy and its arsenal of shipboard standoff land-attack weapons.

The new apartment acquired for Michelle by Steven Boland was ready for the honey trap later that evening: the still and video cameras carefully hidden and aimed directly at the big bed. Mitch Freeman would enjoy the delights of Michelle Dupree’s body and her many talents tonight and tomorrow he would be approached by an operative with pictographic evidence of Lieutenant Freeman’s breaches of the Uniform Code of Military Justice and violation national security protocols.

He would be given the opportunity to save himself from prison and disgrace by simply providing the operative with certain information about the Tomahawk Land Attack Missile. The imagery of his debauchery with the transwoman Michelle Dupree would hang over his head like the Sword of Damocles until he confessed to his superiors, left the navy, or died. The decision was his to make.

Michelle stood up allowing the split in the red satin evening gown she was wearing to open and expose her long, nylon-sheathed legs. She smiled at Mitch Freeman and he smiled back, making his way through the crowd towards her, his cock already becoming tumescent at the thoughts of the things he was going to do to her tonight.

The End

Author’s Note: The characters in this story are all figments of my imagination but the historical events portrayed are factual. The USA’s Strategic Defense Initiative did include Project Excalibur and the Cottage nuclear test did actually occur.

This internationally tolerated crossdresser and authoress is by no means politically inclined and the story is meant to titillate not to provoke political debate, especially given current events.

All of that aside, this foxy lady does appreciate feedback; let me know what you think, your comments and criticism encourage me to be a better writer.

Thank you for reading my story xxx Michele