Free Samantha Steel is...The Spy Who Did Me--The First Coming A Samantha Steel Erotic Thriller by E.K. Santo Page B

We called our foster
mom Jessie, short for Jessica. Jessica Rand. She said she had a
husband...this guy who wasn't around much. He showed up from time
to time, wearing the same clothes...a black suit, black tie, and a
white shirt. All the time. She told us he would be away on business
most of our stay with her. I couldn't help but notice that when he
did show up, they would have a brief conversation at the front
doorway, and I heard my name mentioned more than a few times, but
never the other kids.
    I know now that he worked for the government.
For the G.E.S.S. Agency. I'm pretty sure she did also, but she was
really good to us, so I prefer to think of her as my mom. She was
very pretty. Long blond hair, which she always wore in a braid, and
pretty blue eyes. Definite eye candy, by anyone's standards.
    Anyway, I noticed things were all about me
when I first started growing boobs. I was only eleven, and was
already catching the attention of a lot of boys in school my age,
as well as the older boys. And I don't mean just my looks. I was
unusually strong, and athletic...probably the best athlete in the
whole school. And one of the smartest. In fact, school was a
complete breeze for me. I absorbed the information they fed me like
a sponge. I was very self-aware. Confident. Maybe even a little
egotistical.
    Like I said, when I was eleven, my breasts
started to develop, and pretty quickly. That's when Mr. Black Suit,
who had us all calling him Tom, began making more frequent
appearances...even sleeping at the house on a regular basis. If
you'd call it sleep. Whenever he did stay more than one night, all
we would hear was crazy fucking going on all night.
    I recall one night I had trouble sleeping,
listening to the moaning coming from the bedroom next to mine. I
went to the door, and looked through the keyhole. I saw Jessie and
Tom, naked. They were on the bed, and Tom was lying flat underneath
Jessie. They were both facing forward, and Jesse was riding up and
down on Tom's cock, her breasts bouncing wildly. Whenever she would
slow down, he would start to thrust upward rapidly, his huge dick
penetrating her shaved twat.
    I watched for a few minutes, in total shock.
But I also became excited, noticing warmth down in-between my legs.
I had just started growing pubic hair, and I felt a warm dampness
there as I watched the two adults fuck.
    While I watched, my foster brother, Kenny,
was also awakened by the noise. He was twelve, and was always
playing jokes on me. He tried to sneak up from behind me, but I
think he was watching me rub at my crotch as I watched Jessie and
Tom going at it. “Hey Sam, whatcha doing?” he asked. I was
startled, and hoped he hadn't seen me touching myself.
    I recall putting my finger to my lips,
silently saying to be quiet, a giggle escaping my lips. I pointed
to the keyhole, which Kenny planted himself in front of, and then
he wouldn't budge. Who could blame him...a twelve year old watching
a live sex show? Other kids could only dream.
    He watched, while I listened, as Jessie and
Tom moaned to their final orgasms. I punched Kenny in the shoulder
for hogging the keyhole. He winced, probably more surprised from
how hard I hit him, than the actual punch. He pushed my shoulder,
jokingly, but I hit him again, knocking him over. This time, I saw
a little fear in his eyes as he looked up at me from the floor. Who
knew what went through his mind...a little eleven year old girl
just knocked a twelve year old boy to the ground. With no real
effort.
    Yeah, I knew there was something different
about me.
     
    ***
     
    Time went by...years. Tom was hanging around
more and more. He was always asking me questions, too. “How are you
doing in school? What kind of grades are you getting? Are you
athletic? How fast can you run?” He didn't ask any of my foster
brothers or sisters any questions.
    One Saturday morning, Jessie and Tom had
pushed the other kids out of the house, so they could speak with me
alone. I was past