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Jierks Jently - Sex Agent
 
I'm here, I'm Jierks Jently, and I'm a Sex Agent
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Festive Fun at the Fetishist
Posted:Jan 21, 2008 4:52 am
Last Updated:Jun 25, 2010 2:25 am
1828 Views

I arrived as required for my star turn at the Fetishistic Farmer's New Year Ball, held in the grand dining-room at Haughredcoulk Hall on New Year's eve. Dressed as a satyr, my role was to perform sex acts with the delicious Amanda Stradwell, one of the agency's most gifted actresses. We had a wild show of mythical lovemaking planned to arouse the guests.

Apparently "Goat / Mermaid" sex is top of the fantasy list requested by the more liberated partygoers of rural England.

I looked around the room, tilting my head to get a better view. Gorgeous young waitresses in low cut black tank-tops danced amongst the thronging crowds with trays of edible delights. I would have gorged myself on smoked salmon and caviar, but hired entertainment is not meant to indulge.

In any case, just at that moment one of my horns inadveratntly caught under the prettiest waitress's shoulder strap. I misguidedly attempted to jerk it clear, succeeding only in breaking the strap. Her perfectly rounded breast sprang free, the nipple as hard and pert as baby cocktail sausage. I was about to apologize when one of the guests sprang upon her, consumed with lust. I could see where he was coming from, so to speak. Never have I beheld such a perfect bosom. She seemed flattered by the attention, deftly passing her tray to another beautifully upholstered wench as the guest sucked hard on her engorged flesh, and they sank to the floor, tearing at each other's clothing.

Amanda caught my attention.
"Quick," she said, "Before we are no longer needed."
We leaped onto the stage. Seeing our early entrance the band lifted their instruments and sensual music began. My own excited instrument sprang from a cleverly disguised hole in my goat suit and I plunged it between the scales of Amanda's tail, but nobody was watching. The spectacle of the scantily clad waitresses struggling to free their swollen breasts from figure-hugging lycra had driven the farmers into a frenzy. Goats and mermaids may be a potent fantasy, but they pale to insignificance in the face of actual nublie and willing young waitresses.

Amanda gave me a sympathetic shrug as she stood re-arranging her scales. Seeing that our services were no longer needed, I consoled myself with a plate of chocolate shortbread and headed for the dressing room to change out of my goat suit. The thing had already been more trouble that it was worth, but worse was to come when it fell from its hanger and a horn became jammed under the dressing room door.

Repeated tugging at the door only made matters worse, but Amanda came to the rescue, delicately re-arousing my famously rock hard erection until we were able to use my cock as a lever to free the trapped horn.

On returning to the party we found the floor was a seething, writhing mass of entwined bodies, and decided to make our escape before questions were asked. Lady Haughredcoulk met us at the door however, and I was certain we would be severely reprimanded. To our surprise she seemd delighted, congratulated me on the "inspired fashion in which I had initiated such a wonderful orgy" and paid us double for the night's entertainment.

Even a sex agent needs to get lucky sometimes.
4 Comments
Jierks on titties....sorry, Identities
Posted:Jan 8, 2008 4:59 pm
Last Updated:Jan 22, 2008 1:34 am
1828 Views

The world is in a whirl at Jierks Hall, as I like to mock-pompously call my meagre residence. I have been asked to model for a dildo making company; the Jently Jiant is all set to be their top seller. I must maintain the hardest possible erection for twenty-seven minutes while the latex sets. I must hold my breath the entire time to keep all the veins standing out from the skin giving it that "just about to cum" look.

Meanwhile next week I am to provide services dressed as a half man half goat at a local fetishists' ball. Could be fun as long as there are no real goats on show I guess.

My secret identity is under threat. One of the sexiest women on the planet has tracked me to my private workplace and is hounding me with tales of wild lakeside parties and sending me unfeasibly sexy photographs of her fabulous body, naked except for some barely visible gauze draped provocatively from her straining nipples. Ophelia who? I can feel myself thinking. She promises me absolute secrecy and a mind shattering blow-job, but in a seperate incident another wild temptress has asked for a picture of my true self's eyes. I knew posting my eye picture here was a mistake. If I am found out I will never be able to work as a sex agent again.

Juanina Meelione has gone missing from the agency whilst on a mission in Spain. Vanished without trace, but I believe she is in hiding after celibatists tried to psychologically remove her incredible sex-drive and turn her into a man hating recluse. I have information that she has survived, has a new secret identity and is still working under cover for the good of sexkind. I wish her only the smoothest of leg-shaves and some calf-stretching orgasms. (That's calves as in the lower part of the leg which in some women tenses during orgasm, not calves as in young cows, for any of you bestial perverts who may have thought I was continuing the goat theme from earlier. )

Got to go before the site bans this....
4 Comments
Jierks on Christmas
Posted:Dec 21, 2007 2:14 am
Last Updated:Feb 7, 2008 2:19 pm
1618 Views

My goodness this blog is a load of rubbish! In the New Year I must put my mind to actually writing something interesting.

Meanwhile we had our office Christmas party here at the Sex Agency last night. Special Chief in Command Hugh Jorgan gave a speech, calling for greater vigilance in the fight to keep sex as the most important economic driving force in the west, our financial guru Ed Dibble-Pantees gave his views on the importance of nudity in advertising, and Amelia Cox, (Ophelia's sister ) gave blow jobs under the table.

Merry Christmas to you all who live in the real world; enjoy your holiday whatever your reason for celebrating, and remember, sex should make you feel good. If it doesn't don't do it again. (Unless you feel like it. )
1 comment
Mince Pies Make you want Sex
Posted:Dec 11, 2007 12:55 pm
Last Updated:Jan 11, 2008 1:42 am
1695 Views

Apologies for my long absence.

I have been doing some research and I have come to an extaordinary conclusion that mince pies make you want sex!

I cooked shepherds pie. I was feeling very relaxed. There had been mince pies at the supermarket, and as it is the run up to Christmas, I bought some plus some nice brandy butter and put them in the oven.

They were delicious.

But now I am horny. There is no one to attend to my rampant desire. Ophelia called earlier and satisfied me as only she can, but she is on a mission in America and can't be contacted.

These mince pies have conjured up the image of a gorgeous woman in my mind. Her breasts are rubbing against the inside of my thighs, her hair across my stomach as she sucks the desire from my throbbing cock. How did a mince pie start me thinking like that?

Or was it the brandy butter?
3 Comments
Jerks On............a sex mission
Posted:Nov 9, 2007 8:01 am
Last Updated:Feb 7, 2008 2:21 pm
1630 Views

Ophelia is due to call in ten minutes!
She will tell me how she wants to feel my lips spreading tingling shivers down her stomach until I reach the beautiful bud of her twitching clitoris and stab it viciously with my tongue until she screams in extasy! It will have to be a phone sex quickie she says as she is due on a secret flight to Mandalay in two hours.
She is one hot woman.
After that I must dash out to Tesco's to get some chocolate shortbread.
Got to run.
Back for my next mission soon.
1 comment
Jierks on............... Shaft
Posted:Nov 6, 2007 10:21 am
Last Updated:Dec 17, 2007 10:47 am
1611 Views

With apologies to Issac Hays and ZZ Todd's twisted lyrics....

Who's the Hot English stud
that's a sex agent to all the chicks?
(Jierks! )
damn right!

Who is the man that could suck his cock
as a younger man?
(Jierks! )
Can ya dig it?

Who's the cat that won't pull out
When there's celibatists all about?
(Jierks! )
Right On!

They say this bloke Jierks is a hot lover
(hush your mouth! )
I'm talkin' 'bout Jierks.
(then we can dig it! )

He's a traditional English man
and no one understands him but Ophelia
Jierks Jently!
1 comment
Juanina Meelione
Posted:Oct 30, 2007 8:38 am
Last Updated:Jan 10, 2008 2:43 am
1695 Views

Juanina Meelione is the Spanish SSS (secret sex service) number one agent. I got to know her on a mission in Greece.

We were on the trail of Greek Celibatist agitators, who had stolen plans to a secret government cloud making machine. They planned to put a stop to literally thousands of orgasms daily, inspired by the erotic effect of sunshine on sandy beaches across the mediteranean. It would rain on the lovers' parade so to speak.

As our hovver-craft bounced across the light swell of the aegean, I was captivated by another swell: Juanina's breasts, like twin volley balls on a flat sand stomach, barely concealed by her flamingo pink sundress.
"Are you giving me a ride in this hovver-craft, or planning on riding me Jierks?" she breathed huskily, placing her high heeled shoe on the foredeck and showing off the stockings on her perfectly toned thigh.
"Can't a man can dream of heaven while he saves the world?" I replied cooly, and she grinned. We had never made love, but a raging cauldron of lust simmered in our thoughts everytime we worked together. Some time soon, I would feel the weight of those glorious tanned globes on my chest as she pressed me deeper into the lower bunk, I hoped.

We should have had other things on our minds. Two Celabatist gunboats sped from behind a small island and held us in their sights. As always we were unarmed. There is nothing sexy about dead bodies in my world. My eyes darted from one set of formidible bazookas to another. A voice rang out over the tannoy in broken English. We were to be boarded and left to die.

Lashed to the railings on deck, the engines stuck flat out and the craft heading straight for the rocky island I thought my end had come. If we survived we would be bait for the sharks when the ship went down. Would the sharks attack my most tender and succulent parts first? How would it feel to have my manhood ripped from my torso by the teeth of a vicious predator? I tried to forget Romanticlvr for a moment as the sight of Juanina's thighs once again caught my attention. It seemed we might be going down on each other before we went down on the ship. Her long sensuous fingers unrolled her fishnet stockings slowly from her perfect thighs and she looked at me with a smile.
"Not yet, Jierks," she promised, and with one deft movement she hurled the nylons into the roaring engines. The effect was dramatic. There was a screaching snarl of hot metal as the propellers stuck and miraculously the engines seized and stalled, the craft coming to rest just metres from the rocky shore.

Like a red hot Houdini, Juanina freed herself from the ropes and flung an anchor overboard.
"When you promised me a ride in your hovver craft, I assumed we'd be having sex," she wispered, and she lowered her head, remimding me of the kind of mouth a man should be devoured by. My cock jerked gently as torrents of sperm splashed against the back of her throat.

We would fix the engines and get back on the trail of the celibatists in good time, but for now, we could at least defy their cause ourselves. And all made possible by those fish net stockings.
2 Comments
Meeting Ophelia
Posted:Oct 26, 2007 3:18 am
Last Updated:Jan 10, 2008 2:39 am
1721 Views

The day I met Ophelia I was just getting stuck into a nice Danish tart when the red light on my secret phone began to blink out an intermittent pattern. The emergency signal. Extreme celibatists had released an anti sex pheromone at a night club in central London. Local intelligence was that the atmosphere was cool and chilling rapidly. Tens if not hundreds of mindless sex acts were at stake if we didn’t act fast. I was to meet top Russian sex agent Joanna Kopov at the scene and take steps to re ignite the public’s passions. We might even have to put on a show.

Showering in a mixture of hot water and a well known proprietary brand of hormone-based aftershave I dressed quickly in smart but casual supermarket own brand clothing and hailed a taxi.

At the club the situation was chaotic. Agent Kopov was already there and had implemented the first steps of the accepted protocols: “Je t’aime” by Jane Birkin and Serge Gainsbourg was blaring out of the sound system, and I could smell the faint hint of Arousasol in the air but it was having no effect. Despite Jane’s best fake orgasm and whispered words of French affection the mood in the club was frosty. The Arousasol would take time to counteract the effect of the anti-passion pheromone, but in the meantime we had what looked like a mass “lost moment” on our hands.

Men regarded scantily clad women in low cut tops and short skirts as if they were books on a sideboard. Women who, until thirty minutes earlier would have shagged anything that moved and might even have gone home with someone who couldn’t, were looking into their partners come-to-bed eyes as if they didn’t even know what sex was, let alone want any in the next ten days. It was time to act.

Joanna Kopov is the fourth sexiest woman on the planet. (Ophelia is the second sexiest, and the third sexiest is some woman called Sarah that nobody has ever heard of, but I digress; the international sex rankings are not important just at the moment.) Pheromones drip from her every pore and the look in her eyes usually makes men ejaculate on the spot. She strode to the stage and bared herself to the waist. Her magnificent breasts swayed slightly as all three of her nipples began to throb visibly in time to the music. At last some of the men started to pay attention.

I was about to go into my routine for the women when in front of me appeared a vision. Dressed like Kylie Minogue in the “can’t get you out of my head” video, golden blond hair, slim, rounded and gorgeous, a woman of stunning beauty was looking directly into my eyes. She reminded me of a line from Shakespeare, “ her eyes had lighted fires in my heart to melt the snows of all Antarctica,” or something like that. I knew from the moment I saw her that she was the one thing, ( apart from possible a really well made apple turnover, ) which could distract me from the job at hand.
“You are going to be my man,” she announced and pressed a business card into my hand. Then she was gone. I stood there staring as she walked calmly out of the club before a shout from the stage brought me back to reality:
“Oi Jierks!”
It was Agent Kopov. She was standing in front of a crowd of salivating men, their heads circling to the gyration of her hypnotic pelvis as she danced to Donna Summers’ “Love to love you baby.”
“Get back on the job, Jently,” she shouted, and at that moment I saw that the crowd had separated into the sexes, the women shuffling aimlessly at the back while the men stared, fixated by Joanna’s third nipple.

I quickly moved behind them, brushing my fingers softly against that special place to the side of each neck as I worked my way across the crowd. Each of them turned slightly as a shiver ran through their spines, then smiled and walked forwards to find their men, eager to release the tension that Joanna was building up in their cocks. Everything was going to be alright. Except for me. For me things were never going to be easy again. I looked at the card in my hand. One side was blank, but on the other was just a number and a name I would never forget; Ophelia Cox.
2 Comments
On a Mission
Posted:Oct 25, 2007 2:34 am
Last Updated:Nov 29, 2007 3:08 pm
1676 Views

I was called away on a mission yesterday, at tea time , just as I was half way through a plate of Viennese whirls. Obviously I can’t say too much, but it involved twins in turmoil and I had to get out the hovercraft.
On my return I found I had missed a communication from Ophelia. Oh Ophelia, how I desire her, but I must resist her fervent lips forever. She is upset because the elephant is too wrinkly. But how can I comfort her? She is so far away and so dangerous to my mission. I must continue to worship her from afar. Thank you all for being here to read my story and share my hopes and fears. It may just keep me sane.
2 Comments
Jierks on - Chocolate
Posted:Oct 24, 2007 12:41 am
Last Updated:Jan 10, 2008 2:39 am
1650 Views

We all love chocolate, but have you ever considered what it does to you?

Chocolate is the one single most powerful weapon of the Celibatists!

Chocolate produces a chemical reaction in the eater which releases an endorphin very similar in effect to those released after orgasm. Many people, particularly women, unknowingly eat chocolate as a sex substitute!

I am convinced that chocolate was originally invented by celibatist extremists, intent on ridding the world of sex. The ready availability of chocolate constantly hampers my mission to save the world's women from celibacy. Don't get cocoa'd, get laid.

Or eat good wholesome pastries instead.
2 Comments
Tingling Excitement
Posted:Oct 22, 2007 12:30 pm
Last Updated:Apr 27, 2008 7:34 am
1641 Views

My life is mind-tinglingly exciting, so full but still so empty. I love a woman to whom I can never divulge my true identity. My wonderful occasional girlfriend Ophelia, so beautiful and yet so dangerous. To her I must always be a mystery, I am condemned to love and to move on. I am a man no woman could ever want to commit to. To the world I am a simple London business-man, but in reality I am Jierks Jently, Sex Agent.

The west's continuing right to a sex-based society may depend on me being in the sexiest place, undetected, at the sexiest time, and not being distracted by a raspberry jam scone.

And so I turn to TSmeet, the world's one sex-safe institution. Here I will unburden the cares of a life spent in the public service, and seek relief as I continue in my quest to save the world from the insidious rise of celibacy.
6 Comments
Jierks Jently - Sex Agent
Posted:Oct 22, 2007 12:19 pm
Last Updated:Apr 27, 2008 7:34 am
1593 Views

How can I tell anyone what I can tell no one? My world is one of sexual intrigue and espionage, a dark world where sex and sex alone, and possibly stewed apples and cream can conquer those twin enemies of fear and despair.

Come with me and share as I wander the lonely world of Jierks Jently - Sex Agent.
4 Comments

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