Through a series of well practiced stealthy glances he was able to tell she was young, probably in her early 20’s. Her long red hair framed her face magnificently. Glossy red lipstick contrasted sensuously with her alabaster skin and accentuated a spattering of alluring freckles across the bridge of her nose. She glanced at her ticket stub as she navigated the aisle and checked it against the numbers on the back of each chair.
“Please God, please God, please God,” James thought as she made her way toward the empty seat next to him.
Apparently he had done something particularly pleasing in the eyes of the divine entity because the goddess in the low-cut emerald dress sat next to him. He glanced shyly and managed to croak out a hello. She responded in kind then bashfully looked in the other direction.
“I haven’t seen you here before,” said James. He felt like such a hack but decided to press on anyway. “First time at the Opera?”
“Je ne parle pas anglais,” She said. “Vous parlez français?”
James smiled coyly and shook his head no. The lights flashed to signal the audience to be quiet. As the lights dimmed he noticed the slit of her dress had shifted slightly to reveal the lacy top of her nylons.
James decided to try an experiment. He nonchalantly opened his legs so his knee would make minimal contact with hers. She didn’t protest by moving her knee away from his. He let his knee rest against hers for several minutes then casually moved his hand up. Again patience was required so it was another few minutes before he pressed the palm of his hand against her knee. This time she instinctively moved against the pressure. To his delight however, she gently returned her knee to its original position. The warmth of her skin grew hot as he began to ever so slowly caress her knee.
James moved his hand to the inside of her leg and began to trace up toward her groin. He felt the lace of her stockings before she slammed her legs shut. She pushed his hand back toward her knee and left it there. James cursed himself for rushing it. Operas lasted a long time. There was no reason to bull ahead and wreck it. A short time later he was again savoring the soft feel of the lace that decorated the top of her stocking. After a while he let his pinky drift above her stocking onto her bare thigh. Her skin was so smooth. His world suddenly consisted of this nameless beauty and her amazing legs. His ring finger glided its way to her thigh as well. Not wanting to destroy this perfect moment he chose to move his entire hand back toward her knee voluntarily.
James smiled to himself as she placed her hand on his and slid it slowly over her stocking and completely onto her thigh. His heart raced as the music ebbed and flowed in time with his fingers as they thrummed up and down her creamy skin. She kept her hand over his and helped guide it across the short distance to her lace panties. She pushed down hard against his hand as he made first contact with the edge of her lingerie.
He glanced over and saw her eyes shut tight, her lips slightly parted and her chest heaving noticeably. James faced the stage and closed his eyes too. He Let himself be swept away in the moment. His blood raced to his groin in anticipation. It was during this time of bliss that she slammed the edge of her free hand against his wind pipe and crushed his larynx. Then, as he struggled to breathe, she produced a dagger from within her purse and stabbed him in the heart. James heard screaming from behind. The performance staggered to a halt and the lights came up. She leaned her face in close to his ear and let her hot breath wash over his skin as she caressed his face with her long red nails.
“Au revoir Monsieur Bond,” she said breathily. “I’t vas a pleasure killing you. I hope Monsieur Double-Oh-Eight is more of a challenge.”
Author’s Note: OK, first off, I know this is technically fan-fiction, but I challenge you to name another famous international spy with a proclivity to hit on sexy women at inopportune times. Actually this week’s prompt from Write Anything put me in mind of an erotic piece I read at a time in my life when I was way to young to read such things. So this week I decided to try my hand at erotic fiction. The problem I had was the story had no ending for me that wasn’t hacky. So in a fit of desperation I fell back on one of my old stand by solutions (which in retrospect is pretty hacky) and ended it in a murder. I hope you dug it anyway.