The small hand the clock that sat on the shelf across the room had just passed the printed number nine. Agent Pendergast, leaning back relaxed against his black leather sofa, glanced at the clock and away from the book in his hands. The city lights and sounds combined to create a thick layer of sensory indulgent unique to the city that was New York. The living room Pendergast occupied was decorated minimally, yet well. The east wall was primary made of windows, so each morning the powerful sun washed over the room. But now it was night.
Pendergast tipped his head down once more and continued to read his book. It was Hamlet. Of course, Pendergast had read the classic novel in his youth and reread the text time and time again, but it was a story Pendergast enjoyed. The mindful Hamlet; thoughtful, capable, clad in black. Act 2, Scene II.
A window was open and a fresh stream of cool spring air graced the room.

Bzzzzht!

Pendergast's head lifted and his face turned toward a small callbox. Carefully, he placed his book aside, making a mental note of the page. With fluid grace Pendergast crossed the room and pushed a small button on the callbox.
"Who is this?" he asked calmly.
"It's me, Corrie. Can you let me in?" came a somewhat static voice.
"Yes, please come up," the blonde man replied.
He pushed another button and the call disconnected. In the moments he had alone Pendergast replaced Hamlet on the shelf it came from. As expected, Pendergast heard a knock at his apartment door. He walked over and peered through the peephole. It was, indeed, Corrie Swanson, in some unusual attire.

Pendergast opened the door and Corrie briskly entered. Her purple hair was tied into a ballerina bun, contrast to its usual relaxed style. Taking the place of a t-shirt and jeans was a dark purple dress that went down just past the knee. Corrie accessorized with small earrings and sensible black heeled shoes. The young lady had warned Pendergast about this night, the night of her senior prom.
"Did you have a lovely evening, Miss Swanson?" Pendergast asked as Corrie walked straight into the living room where Pendergast formerly sat.
"Anything but," Corrie said hardly as she plopped herself down in the center of the leather sofa, "damn bitch asshole fuckers." She began to mumble.

"Language, Miss Swanson," Pendergast corrected.
Corrie shot Pendergast a death glare. "I'm not in the mood, Pendergast."
"I'd expect you'd be enjoying yourself for much longer."
Pendergast took a seat next to his young friend. Her cheeks were a bit red and slightly puffy. Her smoky eye shadow was smudged, along with her purple eyeliner that painted her waterline.

"Enjoying myself?" Corrie's voice cracked, "The night sucked, beginning to end."
Pendergast frowned. He had seen Corrie angry, frustrated and uninterested before- but this was something new.
"What went wrong? I thought you were looking forward to his dance."
"I was. But I'll be damned if a bunch of rich fucks are going to make me feel like shit."
"Tell me what happened."
Corrie sighed deeply. She stayed silent for a moment and shifted her gaze toward her feet. Her posture was hunched over, rigid. She was keeping a secret and to those who cared to know her (Pendergast) knew that this roughness was a defensive conceal.
"This guy from school asked me so we ended up riding with another couple to the place. As soon as we showed up Romeo ditched me for some bimbo with her tits hanging out and when he went the other couple went. I literally sat at a table by myself before saying fuck this and walking here. It was stupid. I knew I shouldn't of gone."
"That sounds very rotten," Pendergast said as soothingly as he could manage, "I'm very sorry that happened to you."
"It was stupid. The asshole played me like a punk," Corrie growled.
"Played you?" asked Pendergast.
"We flirted and he took me out a few times. Nothing serious. I figured we go to prom and see where it went. I bet the prick just wanted to get me into bed until he saw Miss Titties."
The young woman sighed. Strands of hair were beginning to fall and fray away. She looked defeated.
"Did he touch you?" asked Pendergast, who's voice tightened.
"No," Corrie said in slightly more than a whisper.
"This was only one night, Miss Swanson," the Special Agent said softly, "You're too good for that debaucheries boy and his antics. You're too intelligent and worth too much."
Corrie sniffled and looked the man next to her straight in the eye. Pendergast could see a tear form in her eye which slightly disrupted her eyeliner.

"You've had a difficult night, Corrie," Pendergast said, "You'll stay here tonight. I'll bring you back to school in the morning."
"I feel goddamn stupid, getting mushy over some stupid boy."
Pendergast stood up. He towered over his friend like a skyscraper. The man in black smiled gently and extended his hand to Corrie who took it swiftly. She was brought to her feet in a catlike motion, and to be honest she wasn't exactly sure how she managed to rise in such a fashion.
Without a word, Pendergast lead Corrie to his large bedroom. The king sized bed was against the west wall upon entering the room. Another room sparsely, yet tastefully, decorated.
Corrie walked over to the bed and kicked off her heels. Pendergast asked, "Does this room suit you?"
"Bigger that two dorms back at school," Corrie said.
The purple haired girl slid down the spaghetti straps to her dress, prompting Pendergast to turn around, about to leave.
"Hey, Pendergast," Corrie called, having not the heart to yell.
"Miss Swanson?"
"Would you take me to prom?"
Corrie's face crinkled at her question. Damn. She made a mental note to get buzzed at the next party she went to. Not only was she stood up by some loser, but now she was getting cheesy beyond words.
Smiling warmly, the older man walked back over to Corrie, halting a comfortable distance away.
"Of course, Miss Swanson, however I never went to a prom, but I'm sure if I did taking you would be a delight."
Corrie smiled.
"Hey, Pendergast?" Corrie asked.
"Yes, Miss Swanson?"
"Will you dance with me?"
"To what music?" chuckled Pendergast.
Before Corrie answered she approached the man, but was utterly unsure of what else to do. Taking notice, Pendergast placed a bony hand around Corrie's waist and carefully took her hand into his free one.
"Traditionally, your hand goes on my shoulder, Miss Swanson," Pendergast instructed warmly.
Shaking slightly, Corrie did as she was told. Never had she ever imaged being this close to the man who called himself Pendergast. He lead her the steps; his movements light and agile. Corrie had no idea what song was in his head, but she was sure it wasn't the same one in hers. Regardless, the two swept across the floor to an unheard tune.

"You did this a lot, haven't you?" Corrie asked as the pair continued to move.
"My parents entertained a fair amount in my youth."
Their dance did not cease. They crossed the room various times and with every few movements Corrie could feel Pendergast squeeze her hand, as if their extended limbs were navigating their path.

Corrie rested her head against her dance partner and closed her eyes. In her head she could see them dancing in a black oasis rather than a bedroom. She seamlessly flowed with Pendergast, allowing him to move her as a breeze does unto a feather.

"Thanks, Pendergast," whispered Corrie without moving her head, the words being absorbed into some of Pendergast's neck and suit cloth.

"Anything, Miss Swanson."
Feeling bold, Corrie moved the hand on Pendergast's shoulder up behind his neck and then further up so her fingertips were pressed against his beautiful hair. He didn't respond. Against her skin his hair was fine, yet soft. Everything about the man was aristocratic.
"Miss Swanson…" Pendergast began to say, his voice breathy.
"Shut up," Corrie whispered.
"Miss Swanson," Pendergast repeated.
She didn't answer him. Rather, she brought herself up on her tiptoes and pressed a kiss on his fair lips. She kissed him deeply and without reservations. He tried to pull back gently, but Corrie pressed forward.
When their kiss was broken Pendergast ran the back of his hand down the curve of her cheek. She smiled, her eyes not the least bit teary. Once his hand had finished its path Pendergast lowered himself and picked Corrie up bridal style.

The teenage girl was surprised but quietly elated. Slowly Pendergast carried Corrie to the bed and, with some minor difficulty, placed Corrie almost dead center on the bed. The Special Agent sat on the edge of the bed and placed a hand on Corrie's bare leg.
Without prompting Corrie slid the top of her dress down, exposing a black strapless bra. Pendergast averted his gaze. Corrie didn't say a word, rather, she unhooked her bra and carelessly tossed it away and making sure the garment flew in front of Pendergast. He rubbed up and down a portion of her leg.
Corrie could tell Pendergast was subtly enjoying this, but she knew he would never openly admit it, and honestly, since this situation was so improper Corrie didn't want to bring too much vocal attention to the matter. So instead, she got up on her knees and took off her dress, tossing it like her bra. Pendergast peered at Corrie, who laid back down in nothing but her panties. Finally, it was his time to move.

He stood up and began removing his clothes. The pupils of Corrie's eyes dilated with each piece gone. Her heartbeat increased and nearly broke her ribs when the man, in all his fair nudeness, got on the bed and immediately kissed Corrie passionately.
The older man tried to slip his tongue into Corrie's mouth, but she put up an oral barrier. Pendergast, undeterred, tapped his tongue against Corrie's teeth and continued to pry until she gave way. The pink flesh pressed in and mingled comfortably with Corrie's tongue.
Corrie could feel herself become wetter and wetter as the two continued to kiss. She brought her hand down to touch herself but Pendergast stopped her gently. He eased his face toward her ear and whispered, "Allow me."

Taking her hand, he placed it off to her side. With skillful hands Pendergast edged down her panties and slipped them off. The unmentionable fabric was dropped near the bed contrary to the dress and bra. Fully nude, Corrie tried to suppress a blush. Their skin was similar, but Pendergast's flesh was ghostlike compared to herself.
The formerly attired man smiled at Corrie as if he was assuring her. Silently, he stretched over and opened his end table. From within he pulled out a transparent bottle of lubricant. A thought ran through Corrie's head, wonder why exactly he has the lube? As if reading her mind, Pendergast said, "Temptations of the flesh, Miss Swanson," as he squeezed a small amount of the lubrication onto his middle and index finger.
Pendergast rubbed his wet fingers around Corrie's warm slit. He rubbed her mound, straying away from her lips. Corrie leaned back to allow him more reveal. The gentleman he is, Pendergast continued to massage the sensitive area before parting her fleshy lips with care. She was wet, a bit puffy; prepared.
Enjoying the attention, Corrie watched as pale fingers explored her tender womanhood. He seemed to be mildly amused with her hair cut, what would be considered a landing strip and naturally colored blonde. And yet, he never inserted a digit inside of her. He just rubbed and massaged, including teasing her engorged clit. She quivered.

When satisfied Pendergast pulled his fingers away and felt the wetness from his lubrication and that of Corrie on his fingertips. From there Pendergast carefully pulled Corrie down slightly and better angled himself and her. As dignified as a crane he dipped down and placed a kiss on her womanhood. A kiss, then raised a few inches, then kissed again, only this time he slipped his tongue out and traced the inner portion of her folds. His wet tongue was a new sensation. He dragged his oral organ up her pink flesh, swirling around her clit. She began to moan and took a handful of the bed sheet into her hand. Corrie squeezed so tight, her knuckles turned white.
Pendergast pressed her opening with his tongue, but stopped short from pushing his tongue inside. Corrie contracted her muscles, prompting Pendergast to poke his tongue and lick around the area. She moaned louder, her breathing becoming shaky.
Finally, Pendergast brought himself back up and looked at his young partner. He stared into her green eyes and pushed a few strands of hair behind her ear. He said nothing. She said nothing in response to his silence. She smiled. He smiled in response.
Instinctively Corrie adjusted her position as did Pendergast. He kneeled in between the space between Corrie's open legs, his erection pointing out at full girth and hardness. Corrie flushed deeply when faced with his manhood. Something she did not expect, Pendergast to have a very well maintained trail of blonde pubic hair stopping just shy of where his waistband would be.

Pendergast inserted himself about half-way and came down, having to support himself with his arms which were placed at both side of Corrie's body. He could feel her body tighten around his shaft; a welcome bodily response. Corrie was shadowed by Pendergast's body. She inhaled deeply, her breath trilling.
Starting slow, Pendergast thrust his hips inward and then back, pushing and pulling his manhood inside and out of Corrie. He could feel her tight flesh adjusting to his own flesh's movements.
"Don't be afraid," Pendergast whispered as he inserted himself a bit deeper.
Corrie took a big breath and seemed to relax a bit, allowing Pendergast to push his cock almost all the way. The organ was filling and made Corrie feel hot.
His pace was slow and steady, Corrie quickly learned the motions. Pendergast sensed this when he felt her insides loosen so slightly, adjusted. Feeling she was ready, Pendergast changed his pace. Rather than go all the way inside, he quickened the pace. The man usually in black used his hips to powerfully penetrate Corrie.
She took the change well. As Pendergast bucked inside her, his hips and balls hitting her skin, she brought her legs up and gripped his shoulders. Her left hand nails dug into his flesh and her right hand took hold of his hair. Corrie was moaning loudly and not holding back. She was enjoying every second, every insertion and the sense of relief she felt when her hole was refilled with Pendergast's cock.
As for him, he was fairly quiet. The only sounds were his heartbeat and the occasional low grunt or sharp breath.
A few minutes into his new routine, he slammed his cock as deep as he could muster and kissed Corrie deeply, taking her by surprise. The purple haired girl moaned in his mouth and forced his tongue into tango. Pendergast did his best to continue on in their kiss.

As their physical relations increased Pendergast could feel a certain sensation begin to build in his groin. Taking care, he slipped himself out of Corrie, and before she could question him sat next to her, his back pressed against his back board. He brought his knees up slightly which created a welcoming seat in his lap. Being the quick girl that she was, Corrie brought herself up and satisfied the throbbing of an empty orifice by sitting on the agent's cock, her back facing his front.
She bounced up and down as Pendergast rubbed her clit roughly. He began to whisper things in her ear, "That's right. Keep going. Mmmhm... oh! Yes, yes."
The Special Agent's voice was husky and even with Corrie bouncing on his cock he managed to accurately touch her in all the right places. With his free hand he rubbed down her back and then held her hip. He could feel Corrie tighten and contract her muscles once more. The man knew what was happening without Corrie saying a word; she squirmed a bit and her moaning became more drawn out and low.
Continuing to rub her sensitive flesh, he was pleasured by ever centimeter he was inside of Corrie. Her end was rapidly approaching and just as a pleasure wave washed over Corrie's nerves he pulled her back slightly kissed her neck as her orgasm climaxed and resolved. Her body went slightly limp, a hazy smile on her face.

The older man held Corrie's hips and, helping her body and using his hips, continued their penetration as a slightly cooler rhythm. Before long Pendergast could feel a similar feeling creep unto himself and before he knew it he felt his own orgasm take hold, his warm seed shoot deeply inside of Miss Swanson who instantly sighed when she felt the liquid invade her.
Pendergast helped to lift Corrie off of him and placed her next to him. Weakly, Corrie undid her bun which let her hair fall in a mess over her face. It was Pendergast who parted the hair and again made her face clear. The young woman rolled onto her side and shut her eyes.

Pendergast couldn't help but feel a chill of erotic satisfaction when he notices some semen dripping from Corrie's womanhood. With all the dignity of a Southern gentleman he tucked Corrie into his bed making sure the covers covered her chest. He then placed himself under the sheets near Corrie, who promptly pulled some of his covers onto her.
Pendergast didn't care. Instead, he smiled at Corrie and made it so he was close enough in the event Corrie needed a body to rest her head on.