"I know. But I want you to like me, too."
"------------------------------------------------------"
"Mon... Monique..." Ron stammered, unable to form a coherent thought while her hand was down his pants and inside his boxers, her fingers wrapping around his penis. He'd expected – was looking forward to – heavy petting on this date, but he hadn't thought it would get... this heavy, or that she would be the one doing the "petting".
"Shhh, baby... shhhhhh" Monique whispered, "Just let it go, baby... listen to the music, watch the movie... it's okay. It's okay." She began to squeeze.
The movie was 'Rabid', and it had been showing at the last drive-in theater in the state for the over three years. No one went to the drive-in to watch the movie anyway, so the owners didn't see much point in changing it. They'd never received so much as one complaint about the number of poor splices in the film, either. No one had noticed. Ron certainly didn't.
"Ah!... Mo – Mon!... Oh gaa - ..." he tried to whisper when he felt like screaming. He lifted off the seat, stretching his legs far under the dash as his orgasm gripped him suddenly, unexpectedly. His back arched again and again, his hips thrusting uncontrollably as his girlfriend kept rhythmically squeezing, squeezing... He tried to quiet himself by clenching his teeth, but it only made his noises sound even more animal-like than they would have anyway.
It hadn't taken Monique long to get Ron off, but she'd expected that. She'd been with boys who hadn't lasted this long – one time, she hadn't even touched the poor boy yet, before he came in his pants. So at least this time, she got to feel some cock, and that was nice. She liked cock. It was this next part that had to be handled carefully – sometimes the boy would be so panicked that the date would end right now, and she really, really didn't want that to happen with Ron.
"There ya go, baby... was that good? Didja like it?" She pulled her hand out of his pants when she felt him soften and took a handkerchief from the pocket of her cheerleader sweater, wiping the semen from her hand as if she did this sort of thing all the time. It hadn't been that many times – but then, it only took once to know how to prepare for it. She could smell his semen in the air – distinctive, no mistaking the smell of male sex. That was another thing she liked: semen. That magical, mysterious, pearly, not-quite-gel - the smallest drop of which could turn her into a mother, if it found it's way to the right place. Monique really liked boys and everything that made them boys.
"Uh... Monique... sorry about... the, uh... mess..."
"Don't worry 'bout it, BF. It's a messy business" she giggled, "So, you're okay, right? Don't be embarrassed, Ron... really. I don't want you to feel... I didn't do it to embarrass you." She took a wet-wipe from her purse and tore it open to get the stickiness off her hand. He watched her in wonder. She certainly came prepared, Monique did. Ron was astounded. He didn't doubt that she'd had more experience than he had – since basically his experience consisted of feeling a tit, once before in his life – but this was almost... weird...
"Well... it's... uh, why did you do that, Mon? I mean... I'm glad you did an' all... Uh, thanks – god that sounds stupid – but really, why?" Ron asked in all earnestness. After all, she couldn't have gotten much out of it.
Instead of answering, she offered him the handkerchief she'd used, "Here ya go honey. Wanna use this? I'll get ya a wet one ready, too" she said reaching into her purse again.
"Mon... Monique... what are you doing? Why did you do that? I mean, is that... is that it? Uh... Are you ready to go?" It was all he could think of. He had no idea what to say or do. It seemed like this might mark the end of the date, and he waited for confirmation.
She finished wiping off her hands and got more comfortable in her seat before turning to look at him. This was the telling moment. How Ron reacted to what she was about to say would determine... a lot of things.
"Babe... Ron. I did that because you needed me to. Because if I hadn't, it would have... ruined things later on. No, that wasn't 'it'. 'It' is still to come" she giggled at the unintended pun, then forced herself to be serious -she could still screw this up, and if Ron were to think she were laughing at him – well, that would probably be all she wrote, game over, take off your skates and go home. She looked at the movie screen and said, "I want to have sex with you tonight, Ron. I want you to fuck me." She faced him again, "If I hadn't jerked you off just now, you'd never have lasted long enough to do that. Know what I'm sayin'?"
He could only stare as he mentally stammered; F- Fuck her? She wants me to... She wants ME to... She... She WANTS me to... fuck her? Ohmygod. Ohmygod... OH MY GOD!
"Monique..." he said, but the look in her eyes stopped him cold. She was serious... this wasn't a joke. But, she was more than just serious about it. He could see hunger in her dark, brown eyes, too, along with what could only be called "longing". And, maybe - a little... what was the word... vulnerability... She needed him. Him! SHE needed HIM!
Now he looked away from her eyes and at the movie-screen, afraid he might wake up if he kept looking, reading what was there exposed. Monique had offered herself to him. She wanted him... it was... it was like – ah, of course.
"I'm dreaming... I'm dreaming, aren't I, Mon-" A sharp pain pierced him in the ribs as she pinched him hard. "OW! Damn! What was -" he froze when he instinctively looked over at her again.
Now the look in Monique's eyes had changed radically, and more than anything else, he was reminded of a painting he'd once seen of a jaguar about to pounce: hungry, sleek, predatory, sure of itself and of it's meal. This girl could eat him alive. Yet, she was faintly smiling, too.
And just like that, he knew he could do it. With her. To her. Yes. Oh, yeah. He smiled faintly back and said, "Monique... YOU are just..." But no single word would quite fit, would it... In fact, what possible combination of words could possibly fit this... this incredible girl?
"Wonderful?" she suggested, now smiling broadly, white teeth gleaming in the dark against her chocolate face.
"At least" he said, reaching for the keys, "Boo-yah!"
"------------------------------------------------------"
Someone was knocking loudly at the door: "Mr. Stoppable? Open up, please, Mr. Stoppable, we have an emergency here."
Ron's eyes widened to almost half-dollar size. He recognized the voice – that would be Capt. Krache, pilot of Team Possible's usual transportation. Who else would be banging on the hotel-room door claiming there was an emergency... he could deal with that, business as usual. What he couldn't quite deal with was the timing – he had just penetrated Monique no more than three minutes ago, missionary-style. He was actually doing it – although this hadn't occurred to him until he'd been so rudely interrupted - he was actually fucking Monique! Moreover, he was getting the hang of it, too! And NOW Capt. Krache was right outside the door? An emergency? Why hadn't they just beeped him on the – oh, right – because he'd turned it off. Maybe they'll just go away...
"Mr. Stoppable? Are you in there?"
"Babe? What's going on? Who's out there?" Monique whispered into his ear, unlocking her legs from around his waist.
Ron's thoughts were too full of expletives to recount here, and as Monique's legs lowered onto the bed – he felt himself slipping out of her. Slipping out of her, and he didn't want to be out of her. Not yet. Not for... not ever! DAMMIT! But, it was over now, he was out, and she was pulling on the sheets trying to cover up. Jesus H. Christ on a bicycle! he thought, forgetting momentarily his Jewish upbringing.
"It's the GJ, Mon... I guess there's a mission. I -"
"Mr. Stoppable?"
"Yeah, yeah, I'm here. Uh... give us a few minutes?" he yelled through the door.
"Two minutes, Ron," Krache yelled back, "on my mark... mark! Then we bust the door down."
Typical of an ex-Marine officer. When Capt. Krache said 'two minutes', he meant exactly two minutes. 'From my mark'. Oy vey! Ron thought. Fucking Oy vey!
"Mon..." he said, getting up and looking around for his pants.
"I know. Hand me my bra over there? This is what I get for crushing on a Team Possible guy, I guess" she began to chuckle.
"It's not funny, Mon!" Ron said seriously, trying to arrange his still-erect penis so that it wouldn't be so obvious in his pants. Would it ever go down?
"One minute down, Ron" Krache said ominously from outside.
Monique was just pulling up her skirt - sans panties (she couldn't find them). With her back to him, Ron paused pulling his sweater over his head to watch, too awed to think of a anything to say. When she turned around he was still staring, and she she grinned at him knowingly. "Getting your fill?" she teased, flipping the skirt up hentai-fashion.
"You... your panties..."
"Yeah, well, no time to look for 'em now. Better open the door, Hon, before Boss Man there breaks it down."
He finally pulled the sweater down, pushed on his penis one final time as if to force it into hiding – to no avail - and opened the door.
"Ah, there you are. Twelve seconds to spare, too" Krache tried his best to maintain a professional demeanor, but the corners of his mouth were twitching, Ron noticed. "And this lovely young woman is -?"
"Monique" Ron replied. This was SO the awkwardness... he fell back on his upbringing and became freakishly polite, "Monique, this is Capt. Krache. Capt. Krache, Monique. Uh... Capt's Krache and Burns are probably here to take me somewhere – they usually provide transportation when Kim and I need it."
"Krache and Burns?" Monique said incredulously.
"At your service, ma'am!" Burns said appearing beside Krache in the doorway. "We apologize for the interruption, but... well, like they say: we're from the government and we're here to help you" he joked, and then looked around the room. "Ah, I think someone left something in the sheets there" he pointed to a sliver of taxi-cab yellow showing in the wad of white hotel sheets. Monique casually pulled her thong out of the folds and put them in her purse, then quickly looked up to see – as she'd expected – that everyone was watching her. She smiled just enough to make even the grown men uncomfortable.
They filled Ron in on the "sitch" as they settled themselves into the helicopter – Monique too, as Ron had lost his car keys somehow (they were in the car). Someone – probably Drakken, but no one knew much for sure yet – had stolen a tunneling machine from ReallyBig Corp's company retreat. Kim and Shego were on their way to intercept it in the air and force it down, if possible. Ron was to be in the air and available as the "sitch" developed.
"I... I have to get Rufus!" Ron cried – he couldn't very well go on a mission without his pet naked mole-rat... who was going to chew through the ropes in which he would doubtless be tied up? Who would create the diversion? Who would -
"Sorry, Ron – no time. You're to be in the air ASAP. You'll have to get along without Rufus this time" Krache said sternly, and then turned toward the girl - "And we'll arrange to get you home from the airport, Miss... Monique. The rest of us will be going on by Gulfstream III from there. Sorry for the inconvenience, ma'am."
"Stop calling me 'ma'am'" Monique said, somewhat peeved, "my Mom is a 'ma'am', I'm a 'Miss'".
"Yes ma'am. Uh – Miss" Capt. Krache said, firing up the turbine. It quickly became too loud to hear anything in the helicopter's cabin, so she crossed her arms and glared at the backs of the government men – this was sort of cool, but it'd have been a hell of a lot cooler an hour later! Being Ron's "first time" had been really quite good for her. She especially liked the way the teenage boy handled her breasts: gently but firmly, but never so firmly as to hurt. The other two boys she'd slept with had treated them as their own personal squeeze-toys, apparently forgetting that they were, in fact, attached to her body. But not Ron. He'd been so... appreciative... or something. He was SO sweet! Poor Ron, she thought, he was just getting going good, too. And to be stopped mid-stream like that... She looked over at her boyfriend, and saw him motioning to her to put on the head-set sitting on the panel in front of her. As she did so, she saw him fidget in his seat, obviously uncomfortable. Awww, Ron, you're starting to get blue-balls, aren't cha... I'm sorry babe, but I can't do anything about it while I'm strapped into this damn chair. I wish I could. I REALLY wish I could, baby...
Well, there wasn't anything to do now but wait to be dropped off. What a drag. This being Monique's first ride in a helicopter, she looked around the small cabin, but the most interesting thing was right in front of her. A military Communications panel. She checked it out closely. There were the usual buttons for AM, FM, SSB and DSB – all things she was familiar with from her father's HAM radio in the garage... but look! They had a Digital Sound Processor... cool! She'd been trying to get her father to get a cheap one of those for ages, and here was the real deal, the military-spec, Way-Too-Much-Money type that no one could afford! Her fingers itched.
"Uh, Mon... I wouldn't touch anything, if I were you" Ron suggested, watching her.
She ignored him, because something had caught her attention: the CTSS box was blinking. Someone (who knew the Code-Tone for that particular Selective Squelch receiver) was trying to make contact! What the hell, what're they gonna do, throw me in jail? Wasn't MY idea to be here in the first place! she thought, and unjacked her headset from the armrest of her chair, plugging it into the Comm Panel. But she heard nothing. Lesse... volume... mute – that's off, good – we'll leave the freq dial alone for now... Ah! The signal-to-noise meter! Okay, so there IS a signal, why don't I – wait, where's squelch? Ah, okay... Turning the squelch down, she could hear something, it sounded like someone talking into a tin-can, and underwater. Right. I'm in AM, right? Let's try SSB... okay, other SSB... DSB?... FM? When she flipped the Mode knob to FM the static disappeared and she could hear clearly - "dammit, Ron, turn on the damn Comm panel! Can't you see the blinking lights? I KNEW I should have got him some radio lessons! Now he's-"
"Uh, hello? I'm not Ron, but I can see him from here... can you hear me? You're 20 over 40 here" Monique said, checking the SNR meter as she did so to make sure she was getting out.
"You... you can SEE Ron? Who is this? How'd you get on this freq? Where'd you get the scrambler code?"
"My name is Monique – AR4BD, in the HAM world – and yeah, I'm in a helicopter, Ron's on the other side. Who's this?"
Before whoever it was could answer, another voice broke in, feminine and familiar, "Wade? Did you get in touch with them yet? I don't like being out here without someone watching my back..."
And then another voice, also feminine - not quite as familiar, but unmistakable nonetheless, "Hey, what am I? Chopped liver?"
"Shego... just keep your eye on the road, please? I'm trying to get ahold of Wade."
"Wade here. Yeah Kim, looks like Monique is in the chopper with Ron, headed for the airport. Dr. Director says they'll transfer to something faster there."
"Monique?" Kim's voice asked.
"Monique?" as did Shego's.
"Monique" Monique cut in, "Hi Kim, Shego! And 'Wade', whoever you are. Fancy meeting you here. Like he said, we're on our way to Middleton airport. ETA probably ten minutes. Supposed to transfer to something called a Golf Scream or something..."
"That'd be 'Gulfstream', Mon. Turbo-jet. Fast, but not as fast as me! Yee-haw! Mach 3!" Shego was obviously enjoying whatever it was she was flying.
"Shego..."
"Eyes on the road, I know. Intercept in seven, by the way."
"Monique – tell him to hurry up, will ya? I didn't want to leave without him, but the Director insisted. Looks like we'll catch up to the Bad Guys someone over the Rockies."
"Just north of Estes Park, specifically" Wade chimed in, "Pretty place."
"You've been there?" Kim asked.
"Of course not! Web-cams. I've never been out of Middleton! Anyway, Monique - who else is there? Who's running the Comm panel?"
"Just me and Ron and the two pilots. Crash and Burns? I can't believe people named -"
"You figured out a GJ Comm panel by yourself?" Wade asked with disbelief.
"Well... I do have an extra-class HAM license y'know. Radio is radio."
There was a moment of stunned silence before Shego broke in, "Kinda nerdy there, Monique... five minutes, Pumpkin. Visual in three. After-burners off. Aww..."
"Tell anyone and I'll kill you."
"Keep in touch, Monique. Give us a call when you get back in the air. Wade? It just disappeared off our radar..." Kim said, sounding worried.
"Yeah, I see that. Probably hiding behind a mountain – let me check the infra-red satellites."
"------------------------------------------------------"