Message-ID: <19328eli$9901250508@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Archived-At: From: gordond103@aol.com (GordonD103) Subject: {Gordie} Irma Vep's Last Caper (MF cons) Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d Path: qz!not-for-mail Organization: The Committee To Thwart Spam Approved: X-Moderator-Contact: Eli the Bearded X-Story-Submission: X-Original-Message-ID: <19990124132850.18720.00002363@ng26.aol.com> Contains sexually explicit material Do not read if under eighteen E-mail comments welcome (gordond103@aol.com) Irma Vep's Last Caper by Gordie Inspired by the French serial 'Les Vampires' Her fingers aching, Irma decided to rest for a minute when she reached the fifth floor. High above the Rue de la Paix, perched on a piece of brickwork that jutted out a few inches from the hotel, she looked up and saw she had two stories to go. She gazed down at the scene in the street below while she caught her breath, her black skintight leather suit concealing her perfectly in the dark night. Irma watched as the doorman busily escorted elegantly dressed couples into the hotel, followed by bellboys loaded down with suitcases and trunks. Just as she was about to continue her climb, someone caught her eye. It was a young guy, around eighteen, walking behind a middle-aged couple who she figured were his parents. The three of them entered the hotel. He was pretty good-looking, but what had caught her eye was the sullen way he walked along, head down, hands stuck in his pockets. Irma Vep found her mind drifting back. She recalled the hours she spent moping on her bed in the orphanage, daydreaming, fantasizing about a handsome prince visiting the orphanage, seeing her, falling in love and taking her away to his castle. As she got older she realized she would have to take care of herself and developed a tough, confident, self reliant personality. At around age sixteen she discovered a gift she seemed to have, something that gave her some direction in life. Her large, deep black eyes seemed to have an almost hypnotic effect on people, and she found she could talk people into almost anything, convincing the other girls to do her homework for her, getting the staff at the orphanage to excuse her from her chores. It didn't take her long to figure out how to exploit her powers to the fullest, organizing a group of girls into a shoplifting ring- one girl to distract the shopkeeper, the others taking whatever Irma instructed them to go after. First it was just candy bars and lipstick, then cartons of cigarettes which she would fence with some of the small time criminals in town. Through cab drivers and bartenders she made connections with members of the underworld, her young age and hypnotic gaze getting normally suspicious people to trust her. Later, she hooked up with a group of street kids in town. They knew how to break into shops and steal merchandise off the back of trucks, but it was Irma who had contacts with the local underworld figures, and would fence the goods through them. She would find out what type of merchandise the local mobsters were specifically looking for- fur coats, brandy, watches- and set the rest of the kids after them. After just a few months, her gang acknowledged her as their leader, and by her eighteenth birthday, now free from the orphanage, she had a close working relationship with the local mob boss. He pointed her toward profitable heists, she set her crew to work, and everybody made out nicely. But that was . . . almost twenty years ago, Irma thought. Her no longer young joints complained as she continued her climb. But, she comforted herself with the knowledge that this would be her last job. She was going solo on this caper and the rest of her gang didn't know about it, and although what they didn't know wouldn't hurt them, they would most certainly hurt her if they found out she wasn't cutting them in on it. Well, one priceless Stradivarius violin would get her a long way away- An express train to Berlin, a quick rendezvous with a dealer in rare musical instruments, a roundabout journey to Spain, changing trains several times, a change of identity, then see about buying a small hotel on the Costa del Sol and enjoy some peace and quiet for the first time in her life. Oh, the life of crime had been exciting, the thrill of outsmarting the police and reading about her exploits in the newspaper, but, as her aching body reminded her, she wasn't a kid anymore. She had read about the visit of Rene De Ossorio, the famous violinist, several weeks ago, and her mind began quickly working. This would be her chance to start a new life. She followed him back to his hotel after rehearsals, then befriended several of the maids and found out which room he was staying in. If he kept his violin in the hotel safe she would have no chance at it, but she had a feeling. Anyone as dedicated to music as he was would probably see his instrument as his own child, and wouldn't want to be apart from it. Exhausted, she reached the seventh floor, then began very slowly working her way along the narrow ledge to De Ossorio's window. She grumbled to herself, seeing the light still on his room, and the faint sound of a violin being played. He was evidently up late practicing, and although she was glad to know that he kept his violin in his room, she wasn't crazy about the prospect of spending any more time out on the narrow ledge in the cold night. Irma got as comfortable as she could, and settled in for the wait. For some reason she couldn't get the young kid she had seen going into the hotel out of her mind. He seemed so bummed out about being around his parents. If he didn't like it, why didn't he just take off, she wondered. He looked old enough to take care of himself. No one ever looked out for me, thought Irma. She learned pretty early you've got to look out for yourself, and guessed the kid hadn't learned that yet. Irma started thinking about her successes over the years, the big heists she had pulled off and the money she had made, the well disciplined and organized gang of thieves she presided over, the wild parties and the vacations on the French riviera. But, every time she started feeling smug, she started thinking about the one area where she hadn't done so well. Anyone who was as smart and tough and commanding as Irma was, someone used to taking charge, tended to be more than a little intimidating to men, and the few serious affairs she did have over the years were with other members of the underworld, and they had all wound up behind bars sooner or later. Oh well, she sighed, I'll be a new woman after some time in Spain, laying on the beach and relaxing. Then maybe I won't scare off every man I meet. I hope. The light in De Ossorio's window had gone out, but she decided to wait a good half hour before trying to go in. Windows this many stories up were usually a breeze to get through, if they were locked at all. After waiting, she tested it and found it was locked, but with a thin strip of metal she was able to work the latch loose without a lot of trouble. With the world renown violinist and his wife snoring in bed, Irma stood just inside the window, waiting for her eyes to adjust to the darkness. After a minute she spotted the violin case carefully placed on a chair in the middle of the room. She opened it to make sure the priceless instrument was inside, then placed it in the bag she had slung over her shoulder and tiptoed back to the window. Climbing up the side of a building is difficult, but climbing down is impossible. The only way to get down is to climb the rest of the way up to the roof, tie off a long rope to something secure, throw the other end over the side and start lowering yourself. Irma started up, working past the eighth and ninth floors, then took a break at the tenth, the roof only one story away. The light was on at the window she was resting next to, and although it was taking a foolish chance, it was impossible not to peek into someone else's private life. For some reason the middle-aged couple inside looked familiar to her. She tried to remember where she had seen them. They were arguing, the man gesturing, his face red, the woman's mouth a tight straight line. As the man waved his hands impatiently, Irma saw someone she hadn't noticed get up from a chair in the corner and she suddenly realized where she had seen them before- the other person in the room was the mopey young kid she had seen trailing his parents into the hotel. She saw him speak a few words to them then open the door to the room and walk out. He was probably going to his own room, and Irma looked right, then left to see if a light in an adjoining room went on. A few seconds later the window to the immediate right lit up. You know how you sometimes tell yourself before doing something, "This is stupid, this is stupid," but do it anyway? Irma had to catch the 5AM train to be out of Paris by the time the theft was discovered, but something about the young guy fascinated her. She worked her way over and carefully looked in, seeing him kick off his shoes, then take off his jacket and unbutton his shirt. He flopped down on the bed, hands behind his head, and stared intently at the ceiling. In a minute he reached over to the nightstand and took a cigarette, lit it and took a puff, then returned his gaze to the ceiling. She studied him- he was around eighteen or nineteen, and would be pretty good-looking, Irma thought, if he would just cheer up a little. Eventually he stubbed out his cigarette, got up and pulled his pants and socks off, then turned out the light. Irma did some quick calculations- it was a little before 2AM, it would take about forty-five minutes to get to the station, her train didn't leave till five . . . She tested the window and found it was unlocked. Very slowly raising it, she slipped inside, her thin-soled rock climbing shoes silent against the thick carpeting. Carefully, she worked her way toward the bed and knelt by it, her face close to his in the dim light. He was fast asleep. She studied his face, then laid a gloved hand lightly across his mouth. She waited, and after a minute he turned his head from side to side, made a little sound, then his eyes suddenly opened. He was frozen with shock. She put her forefinger to her mouth. "Ssshhh . . ." She said softly. Seeing it was a woman, looking into her big, deep black eyes, he calmed down slightly, though his eyes were still wide in confusion. She slowly took her hand away from his mouth. "My name's Irma. What's yours?" After a nervous deep breath he managed to gasp out, "Luc . . ." She continued to gaze into his eyes. In a minute he took another deep breath and asked, "What do you want? Why are you here?" "The reason I'm in this hotel is to steal a violin. My name is Irma Vep. Have you heard of me?" "You . . . You're the leader of a group of burglars . . . In the newspapers . . ." Irma nodded. "And the reason I'm in your room right now is, I saw you earlier in the evening. You didn't look too happy about something. I wanted to see if I could help. You don't like hanging around your parents, maybe?" Luc's mouth tightened up, and Irma saw he wouldn't be talking about it. "Actually," She smiled, "You're a good looking guy, you look very sweet. I'd like to fuck you. Would you like to?" His confusion pushed aside, Luc thought a split second, swallowed, then nodded. Taking the fingertip of one of her black gloves in her teeth, she pulled it off, then ran her hand under his tee shirt. She reached out and circled his hand around her breast, over the leather of her skintight suit. She stood up and slowly unzipped it, her eyes still locked with Luc's. She worked her way out of it, wiggling a bit to get it over her hips, then pulled it off, exposing her white panties and white tank top, erect nipples showing through the thin fabric. She lay down in bed next to him. They stroked each other, looking up and down their bodies. Irma took the bottom of his tee shirt in her hands and pulled it over his head. She stroked his body and waited for him to make the next move. Luc finally gathered his senses together and carefully pulled off Irma's tank top. His mouth opened slightly at the sight of her full round breasts, and large areola, but he was so mesmerized by her large dark eyes that he didn't make another move. "Touch them," Irma said softly. He circled the palm of his hand around one of them slowly, took a deep breath, then really started massaging the soft flesh. It had been a while for her, and she closed her eyes, tilting her head back, sighing. After a minute she slowly opened her eyes, stroked Luc's back then pulled off her panties. Luc quickly followed suit, pulling off his shorts. He was very, very erect, and Irma slowly ran her finger down his chest, his stomach, then teasingly traced her fingertip along the rigid shaft, then circling it around the head, collecting a drop of pre-cum on her fingertip and running it up and down the underside of his now throbbing dick. Irma took his hand and placed it between her leg, pushing it in and circling it around. He sat up and took both of Irma's arms and tried to push her on her back, but she twisted away. She grabbed both his wrists, and before Luc knew what had happened, he found himself flat on his back with Irma straddling him, pinning his arms down. She leaned down and kissed him, hard, open mouthed. Still holding his wrists, Irma lowered herself, Luc's rock hard erection easily finding Irma's wet, slippery entrance. She eased herself up and down till it was snugged all the way in, then began rocking slowly back and forth, massaging her clitoris. The two rode each other for a minute, but Luc was eager to really start pumping, and began thrusting upward. Irma didn't want the fun to be over too quickly, however, and squeezed her legs against his hips, holding him in place. Luc groaned, twisting, trying to free his arms, desperate to really start fucking her. Struggling, combative sex always excited Irma, and she knew it wouldn't take her long to come. He managed to wrench one arm free, then the other, then sat up and grappled with her, trying to grab her wrists and get her on her back. But, with Luc's aching erection still inside her, Irma wrapped both legs tightly around his back as they fought each other for control, preventing Luc from pumping himself into her. "You bitch," Hissed Luc, as he forced Irma onto her back, reaching back and grabbing at her ankles, then, with some difficulty, pulling her legs apart. Holding her legs apart in the crooks of his elbows, he threw himself on top of her and, with Irma grasping at his arms trying to take control, Luc began thrusting into her hard and fast, groaning, closing his eyes. She pushed herself up slightly then twisted to the side, shoving at his shoulder, trying to get Luc on his back and her on top again. She had well-toned muscles and very strong hands from all her climbing, but Luc, in the heat of passion, yanked her hand off his shoulder, bent it back, bringing a little yelp of pain from Irma, then forced it down and held it on the bed firmly. He fought to control her other hand, both of them breathing heavily, gasping and grunting, Irma trying to keep it away from him. He was finally able to grab her forearm, squeezing it tightly and holding it over her head, then resumed quickly, almost angrily, pumping her. Whenever the man had gotten the better of her, and she was unable to fight back, she knew her orgasm would closely follow. The bed squeaking, Luc fucking her for all he was worth, she felt it wash over her, groaning along with Luc, and as her vaginal muscles contracted Luc came with her, letting out a loud grunt and filling her with spurt after spurt. As he caught his breath and came to his senses, Luc began easing himself in and out of her again, slowly, the warm slipperiness keeping the feeling of his orgasm going. He looked down at Irma's face, running his fingers through her long black hair. They looked at each other for a long time, then, with a deep breath, Luc rolled off of her. They lay there silently for a while, recovering. Irma saw there was part of a chocolate bar on the bedside table and reached over, helped herself to a piece, then handed the rest to Luc. She propped herself up on her elbow and looked down at him. "So what's up with you? What's bugging you?" Luc shrugged and looked away. "Are you going to college?" She asked. "I will be. I start in a month." "What'll you be studying?" "Accounting, I guess. My father owns an accounting firm." "You'll be going to work for him?" He shrugged again. "Is that what you really want to do?" Asked Irma. "I don't know . . . not really . . . I really don't know what I want to do." She looked down at him for a long time, looking into his eyes, thinking it over. She finally decided. "Listen, Luc, this job I pulled tonight, this is my last one. After I sell the violin I'm going to Spain and open a hotel there. Would you like to come with me? I'll need help with it, and a strong young guy like you might come in handy. It'd give you time to figure what you wanted to do with yourself." He looked back into her eyes, his expression blank but his mind racing. "You'll have to decide right now. I have to be on the five o'clock train." He looked at her a minute longer, then gave a confident nod of his head. "I'm, um . . . sorry I called you a . . ." "Don't worry about it. I am a bitch," Irma smiled, tracing her finger around his chest. She laid back and put her hands behind her head, staring at the ceiling. Maybe not a bitch, she thought, but she certainly could try to mellow out a little. Maybe not turn every act of lovemaking into a professional wrestling match. Just then Luc propped himself up on his elbow and began stroking her leg. He worked up, circling around her crinkly black pubic hair, running his hand around her stomach. Irma found herself thinking, I'll let him get a little farther up, then quickly twist his arm behind his back, get him on his stomach and . . . She laughed at herself. If you're going to change, well, there's no time like the present. She put her hands above her head, holding onto the headboard as he squeezed and massaged her breasts. "Luc, tie me up. Tie my hands," She said softly. He looked at her for a moment to make sure she was serious, not leading him into some kind of trap, then looked around. Picking his tee shirt up off the floor, he worked it through one of the slats in the headboard, then securely tied both her wrists. He looked down at her. His expression seemed to change slightly. Straddling her, Luc worked his way forward, laying his gradually enlarging dick between her tits, squeezing them together, slowly pushing himself in and out. This was certainly new for Irma, even a little bit frightening, being helpless and exposed, unable to fight back. But, at the same time, she felt a real rush of blood to her groin, the same type of nervous exhilaration she felt when she was pulling a big heist. Luc leaned down and put his mouth around her nipple, sucking hard as he lifted his head upward, looking Irma right in the eye. She could tell he liked having power over her. It was the first time she had given this much over to a man, but she figured that was what a relationship takes I'd better get used to it, giving a little now and then, not battling over everything. If I'm ever going to settle down with anyone, she thought, I'd better keep that in mind. With the notorious cat burglar tied down in front of him, Luc let his hands and mouth roam over her. Still straddling her, he worked his way up further and put both hands behind her head. Placing his erection to her lips, he waited for Irma to open her mouth. She kept it shut, as if to challenge him. "Suck it," He whispered, pushing her head into him. She parted her lips slightly, allowing only the very tip in, then, as Luc pushed, reluctantly let more and more in, her lips circling the thick shaft. Luc groaned at the incredible feeling, the softness of the inside of her mouth caressing the sensitive head of his dick. He pushed her head slowly back and forth for several minutes, then pulled his stiff, pounding erection out and lay beside her. Luc circled his hand between her legs. "You want me to fuck you?" He asked. Her chest heaving, the feelings going through Irma's body were intense. With her wrists tied she was unable to protect her breasts or vagina, the exposed feeling exciting her more than she ever could have imagined, and with handsome young Luc beside her, his dick red and throbbing, finger zeroed in on her clit, she should have given over to him, saying, "Fuck me, fuck me," but something inside her couldn't give in that easily. "You're the one who wants to fuck," She answered teasingly, meeting his gaze. Luc tickled her clit more firmly, and, seeing her deep breathing and deeply flushed face, gave a little smile. "You're horny. You're a horny little slut who wants to get fucked more than anything. Admit it." Irma stayed silent and confidently returned his gaze, but when she started gasping form air through her mouth, feeling it coming, she decided, what the hell, you have to give in sometimes. "Fuck me baby," She said in a low voice. "God I want it. I"m a little slut. Your little slut." He quickly climbed on top of her and worked his way inside, holding onto her shoulders to brace her and began impatiently thrusting, pumping quickly, telling her how incredible it felt, Irma letting out a squeal as she exhaled, wrapping her legs around his back and pumping her hips up to meet Luc. A pigeon landing on the windowsill and looking in would never guess that these two creatures inside, naked, frantically humping each together, one tied down, grunting and gasping and groaning, were actually enjoying themselves. Faster and faster, the two of them in another world, they pumped until Luc let out a long grunt and held still, inundating Irma with another quantity of his semen. The express train to Berlin crossed the border into Germany just as the sun began to rise. With Luc asleep next to her, Irma thought about her future. She didn't expect a young guy like Luc to be around forever- A few months, possibly a year or two. But, she figured they would have some good times while they both got their new lives started, and after that she could look for someone more permanent. Just then the train slowed and blew its whistle at a crossing. Luc came awake and looked around, figuring out where he was, then looked over at Irma and gave her a little smile. "You have a good time last night?" She asked. He nodded at her. "You liked having me tied up, huh?" "Yeah," He answered, "But I kind of liked it better when we were wrestling." He put his head back and closed his eyes. Well, thought Irma, maybe I won't have to change that much after all . . . The End -- +----------------' Story submission `-+-' Moderator contact `--------------+ | | | | Archive site +----------------------+--------------------+ Newsgroup FAQ | ----