Doing it Cold War style.
By kittybeaver, in 5 parts. Listen to the ► Podcast at Explicit Novels.
It was difficult for Dirk to pretend he wasn't having sex. Tina's cunt felt so good. He wanted to close his eyes, shut out the rest of the universe, and just experience it.
"Adjust left," Fact-Tel said. "Left, you malfunctioning flesh machine, left."
Dirk made the adjustment while Tina whimpered, "I love it, I love it."
Behind them the banging grew louder. There was also the sound of an occasional laugh or a "Whoa, cool." Dirk had to bring Tina to orgasm before the Doopherilians broke into the control room.
"Now you're drifting down," Fact-Tel said. "Pull up on the interfaces just a tiny bit."
Dirk tugged on the steering sticks with all the subtle nuance of a man fucking his hot coworker.
"Too much!" Fact-Tel cried. "You're wildly off course. Push down and try to do it right this time."
Tina's breath came in short, shallow pants. Her ass undulated against Dirk at a faster and faster rate. "Oh baby, yes!"
This was harder than Dirk ever thought it would be. He dug his teeth into his lower lip and resisted the urge to thrust. Instead he gently pushed on the steering sticks, which wasn't nearly as satisfying.
"I'm cumming," Tina moaned, "oh God, I'm cumming."
At the same moment the Doopherinians broke through the door and the chair jamming it shut. Dirk could imagine what they saw; his arms stretched across the control panel, his bare ass hanging out, and Tina beneath him writhing with an uncontrolled fury.
"Stop them!" a silly alien voice shouted.
"Yes, yes, yes, I'm cumming!" Tina screamed. And then she did.
Her back arched and her cunt squeezed his cock in a quick staccato rhythm. Dirk moaned. He was so desperate to cum too. He wouldn't be able to hold it much longer.
"That's the stuff," a Doopherilian said.
Dirk glanced over his shoulder to see the little aliens fall like bowling pins when the orgasm hit them.
"Earth!" Tina said.
He looked back at the view screen to see a blue dot growing bigger behind the yellow dot. They were almost home. He just had to hold it,
"Fact-Tel, how much longer?"
"Two minutes before we hit Earth's atmosphere," the AI answered.
Two minutes? Dirk couldn't hold it for another two minutes.
"Agent Blondell," Fact-Tel continued, "press the green button in the center of the console to initiate speed dampening thrusters. We need to slow the ship down."
"Don't slow down," Dirk begged. "I need to cum."
"You have to slow down," Fact-Tel said, "or this ship won't land as much as crater."
"Pull out before you orgasm," Tina said. "I'm serious, do not ejaculate inside me or we'll have a whole other problem."
"Must, sober, up." The Doopherilians were starting to stir. "Must, stop, human."
"Oh no." Tina pushed her ass against Dirk, working herself up and down the length of his cock. "I have to orgasm again, but you can't," she said. "Got it?"
"No." Tears gathered in the corner of Dirk's eyes. His balls felt like they were going to explode.
"Get back on course!" Fact-Tel shouted. "You're going to hit the moon."
How Dirk managed to steer around the moon, he couldn't say. All his concentration was now focused on not cumming. His face, he was sure, had to be a deep shade of red, his balls a bright blue. Every muscle in his body was straining to hold back the inevitable.
"When you enter the Earth's atmosphere, I'm going to count down from five," Fact-Tel explained. "When I say 'Hit it,' you'll have to pull up on the steering interfaces as hard as you can. You'll be fighting against the planet's gravity and it'll be a rough ride."
"Mmmm, yeah." Tina rocked back and forth, working her way toward another orgasm. "That's what Mama likes."
"Entering the atmosphere in three, two, "
Fact-Tel was cut off abruptly and the whole ship jolted.
"Oh Fuck Yes!!" Tina screamed as another climax consumed her. The lucky bitch.
"Five," Fact-Tel started counting down, "Four, "
There was no way the Doopherilians would recover from Tina's last orgasm, not before they were safely on Earth. There was no reason for Dirk to hold back any longer.
"Three, "
"I'm going to do it," Dirk growled.
Two, "
"I'm going to cum."
"One," Fact-Tel shouted. "Pull up! Pull up!"
"Pull out! Pull out!" Tina added.
Dirk yanked back on the steering sticks, his cock slipping from Tina. When he shot his load it went airborne, over her head and landed in an arc across the view screen. It was a different kind of Milky Way.
The ship hit water and bounced, skipping two or three more times before it came to rest with an impressive splash. Fortunately it stayed afloat. They were back home. Somewhat safe and sound.
"Fact-Tel." Tina rolled out from underneath Dirk, stood and pulled down her skirt. "Do you have our location?"
"Affirmative," the AI answered. "Sending rescue team now. Are the Doopherilians still a threat?"
Dirk lay collapsed on top of the control panel. His heart pounded and he couldn't catch his breath. He didn't have the energy to pleasure Tina one more time. He almost hoped the Doopherilians would shoot him with their ray gun orbs. At least then he'd have an excuse to lie prone on the ground.
He turned his head slightly to see Tina bending over one of the purple aliens. It, like the others, lay on the floor and stared up at nothing.
"They're no threat," he said. "They're still tripping."
"No, they aren't." Tina looked grave. "They aren't breathing. I think they all overdosed."
"What?" The jolt from the news gave Dirk enough energy to stand up. "They're dead?"
"Shit," Fact-Tel muttered as the ship gently bobbed up and down with the rolling waves. "That's a lot of forms I'll have to fill out."
"Do you think the Doopherilian King will take this to the Universal Council of Supreme Beings?" Tina asked. "Are we in for another biblical flood?"
"Probably not," Fact-Tel said. "We'll most likely do what we did when something similar happened with the Martians."
Dirk tucked his cock back into his jeans and zipped up his fly. "What was that?"
"We'll pay the Doopherilians off with opium," the AI explained. "I mean, that is what Earth is known for, best snack foods and narcotics in the galaxy."
Dirk didn't mean to laugh, but the whole situation was so absurd he couldn't help it. He expected Tina to scold him for laughing at a tragic event, so it was a surprise to hear her light chuckles mix with his low belly laughs. Their eyes met across the room and the laughter grew between them.
Tina got Dirk. She understood him in a way no woman had before. She got his sense of humor, his need to improve the world, his outlook on life. She was the human connection he didn't even know he'd been searching for. And he knew this moment of connection, of shared mirth, was a moment he'd remember for the rest of his life.
But eventually, they both fell silent, stared at the death surrounding them and waited for the rescue boat to come.
The breeze ruffled through Dirk's hair like the fingers of a lover. He smiled, enjoying the playful caresses along his scalp. He picked up his speed and the wind reciprocated. What had been flirting before was now full on foreplay.
That was probably taking the metaphor too far. He was running really fast. It was kind of fun.
Not long ago he'd been ashamed of his unique talents. That was when he'd made his living as a male model. The fashion industry prized men with tall, muscular bodies and facial features too bold to be feminine yet still very, very pretty. All of which Dirk Allen had. He also had the ability to run at near the speed of sound, pick up a car with one hand and hardly ever get tired. Those were not useful skills for a man whose job it was to stand still and look good, so he'd kept them hidden.
That all changed when he changed his career. Now he was a secret agent in training. Tina, his partner as well as his mentor, said speed and strength and stamina were essential. The fact that he could run faster, lift more and stamina longer meant he had the makings of a legendary secret agent.
It was possible, she had told him, that one day he'd be the second best agent in the SWSO. Tina Blondell was the best agent and she planned on keeping that position.
At that moment, the position she was keeping was more of a fetal position. Dirk held her in his arms and tried his hardest not to grope her ass or her breasts. It would've been easier if he didn't have to think about where he couldn't touch her and just place his hands where they needed to be so that she wouldn't fall out of his arms.
Not that Tina wasn't grope worthy, because she was. Her breasts filled a hand perfectly, with soft flesh to cushion one's fingers and pert nipples to poke one's palm. Her ass was round and bouncy and oh so wholesome. Dirk couldn't look at it without thinking about working the land.
But it was inappropriate to think of her that way. They were coworkers and nothing more. Yes, he'd seen enough of Tina to know she wasn't a natural blonde, but that was work related. He had pleasured her orally and she'd given him a hand-job to save lives. For secret agents, the ends justified the means. They were prepared to do whatever it took, with whoever was handy, to protect the world. That's why, nowadays, Dirk made sure he had a condom on him. He'd feel awful if the world fell into the clutches of an evil despot simply because he was afraid of catching something.
The jury was still out on whether General Zero was a global despot or simply a municipal annoyance. So much about Zero was a mystery, such as background, motive and preferred pronouns. It was impossible to predict what their next move would be. Tina and Dirk with the help of Fact-Tel, SWSO's mastermind computer, had managed to foil one plot, but Zero had escaped. It looked as though the villain had dodged justice, until now.
In the wee hours of the morning, long before Dirk woke up (so like, around 9:30), Fact-Tel had intercepted a series of coded tweets. It'd taken the artificial intelligence nearly an hour to break the encryption but once it had, it presented Tina with the coordinates to Zero's hideout. Soon Dirk and Tina would capture Zero. The city of Middleburg would be safe once again.
There was no doubt in Dirk's mind that he and Tina would succeed. How could they not? With his strength and speed and her intelligence they were unstoppable.
"Stop," Fact-Tel chirped in Dirk's ear. "You're going to run right past it."
Dirk was still getting used to the earpiece that connected him to the A.I. at regional headquarters, but he did manage to slow down to a jog without stumbling.
"Fact-Tel," Tina said as she stirred in Dirk's arms. "Where are we exactly?" She was in the habit of shielding her face against his chest when he ran. The wind tended to dry out her contact lenses.
"This," Fact-Tel said with a touch of dramatic flair, "is the section of Middleburg known as Old Crap Town."
"Of course." She slipped out of Dirk's grasp and looked around, taking in their surroundings. "I should've known by all the abandoned manure factories."
"And the smell," Dirk added. "It smells like shit."
"How close are we to the coordinates?" Tina asked.
"Turn left," the A.I. instructed, "about 20 degrees."
Dirk put a hand on Tina's arm. "Let me do it," he said. "I'm a trained model. I know how to turn."
It was perhaps the most perfect turn of his career. He pivoted on his heels in a smooth yet decisive manner. When he stopped he lifted his chin and struck a pose that showed off his body and, by extension, his clothes at a favorable angle. A tight, blue T-shirt and black jeans never looked so good.
"So the red, abandoned, poop factory?" Tina asked.
"Yeah," Fact-Tel confirmed. "The red one."
Dirk followed his partner across the street to the massive and dilapidated building, keeping his eyes peeled for any signs of a sniper in the windows or booby traps in the trash scattered along the sidewalk. He'd trained the past few months for just this sort of situation.
When they got to the double doors of the red manure factory, Tina reached behind her and pulled her gun from her holster.
She owned a lot of guns and a lot of holsters and she had a knack for coordinating them with her outfits. There was a thigh holster for skirts that fell just above the knee. Or there was the back holster for ensembles like the one she was wearing today, gray slacks and a white spaghetti strap tank top. On rare occasions, when she wore a micro mini, she'd tuck her gun into her thigh high boots. That was Dirk's favorite. There was something about that outfit that made him want to surrender to Tina and then defile her. Of course, those sorts of thoughts fell into the inappropriate category, so he never thought them.
"Draw your weapon, Agent Allen," Tina whispered.
"What?" He patted his pockets. "Oh. I forgot it."
"It's protocol. Our lives could be at stake."
"Sorry," he said. "I guess I don't feel the need for a gun." He shrugged. "I'm comfortable with the size of my cock."
"We follow protocol regardless of the insecurities we may or may not have," she reminded him. He could tell she struggled to keep her tone gentle and encouraging. "If you were invulnerable or could shoot heat rays out of your eyes then a gun might not be necessary, but you can't and your big cock isn't going to save you today."
"You're right." Feeling the full weight of Tina's words, Dirk looked down at his feet, which were partially obscured by the bulge in his jeans. He'd never be the Secret World Security Organization's second best agent if he kept forgetting protocol. He wouldn't even be the maverick agent who got put on suspension but was ultimately right. Those guys broke the rules because the rules needed breaking. Dirk broke the rules because he was absent minded.
"Everything's a learning experience," Tina said, "and it's about to be a learning experience for General Zero." She nodded toward the door. "I'll go in first. You cover me. Shout or something if anyone's about to attack."
"I can do that." Dirk took up position next to the door. "I can shout."
He watched as Tina cautiously pushed open the front door to the abandoned factory. Beams of sunlight streamed in through the broken windows, but for the most part it was dark inside. Dirk peered up and around, his eyes in constant motion, on lookout for any sudden movements.
Tina moved quickly, ducking inside and finding cover behind a large piece of dusty machinery. She took a moment, cocking her head to listen, then she motioned for Dirk to follow her.
Stepping inside what was possibly the enemy's headquarters, Dirk was acutely aware of his own vulnerabilities. There were so many ways General Zero could take him down. He forgot his weapon. Zero could make wicked fun of that. What if they knew he cried during holiday movies? The ribbing would be ruthless. And if anyone ever found that contraption in the bottom drawer of his dresser,
Images of junior high school flashed through Dirk's mind. He couldn't live through that again. He just couldn't.
By the time he joined Tina behind the machine, he was sticky with nervous sweat.
"You alright, Agent Allen?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
Dirk nodded and wiped his brow on his arm. "It's the mind games that get you. Zero's a master at them."
"Take a couple deep breaths," she said. "In through your nose and out through your mouth. It'll help calm you."
He made a face as though he'd just tasted something bitter. "I don't want to breathe through my nose. This is an old turd factory."
"Do it," she ordered. "Overload those olfactory glands. After a couple minutes it won't stink so bad."
Tina was his mentor. She'd dealt with situations like this for years. It would be dumb not to follow her instructions.
He inhaled deeply and grimaced, feeling the stink from the factory brush the back of his tongue as it made its way to his lungs. A career as a secret agent wasn't nearly as glamorous as he'd been led to believe. All those spy movies were filled with lies.
"Fact-Tel." Tina touched her finger to her ear. "How far are we from the coordinates?"
"Approximately 20.03 meters," the A.I. replied; its mechanical voice was edged with static.
"Change frequencies," she suggested. "There seems to be interference."
"You don't have to tell me how to do my job," Fact-Tel muttered, making it even more difficult to understand. "If any of the three of us is an expert on frequencies and signals, it's me."
Dirk ignored them. For a computer programmed not to have emotions, Fact-Tel could be moody. It was better to let Tina deal with it. In the meantime, Dirk kept watch over the cavernous room. His eyes had grown accustomed to the dim light and he could pick out details he hadn't noticed before.
"What's that brown stain?" he asked, motioning to something that appeared to have leaked from the machine onto the floor.
Tina gave it a quick look over. "It's rust, probably. Don't touch it." She took a half step away from it. "Fact-Tel have you pulled up the blueprints for this building yet?"
"Of, I have, " The super computer's voice grew more and more garbled. ", a stairwell, left. The coordinates, underground."
Dirk and Tina peered over the filthy, rusted machine. Sure enough there was a stairwell on the left side of the room.
"Same procedure as before," Tina whispered. "I'll go first."
He watched as she ran from one rusted hulk of machinery to another, never leaving herself out in the open for more than a few seconds at a time. When she reached the stairwell, she stood flat against the wall and nodded. It was Dirk's signal to follow her.
Perhaps she expected him to follow the same route she'd taken, dodging from one machine to another, but he had his own procedure. He just ran for it as fast as he could, which was pretty fast. Tina was still nodding her signal when he reached her side.
She blinked at him for a moment and then said, "That's not protocol, but it worked, so we'll go with it." Then she put her finger to her ear and said, "Fact-Tel, do you have blueprints yet? We need to know what we're walking into."
The A.I.'s response was garbled gibberish with only three words audible. ", safe and secure, "
"Sounds good." Dirk made a move toward the stairs, but Tina put a hand up to stop him.
"I'd feel better if we re-establish the link with Fact-Tel before we proceed."
"That might take hours," Dirk whined. "Zero could escape before then. How 'bout I run down and check things out. I'll be fast. No one will see me."
Tina shook her head. "You're not a fully trained agent and you don't have a weapon," she reminded him. "I'll go scope it out. I may not be as fast as you, but I've got stealth."
"Is that a kind of shoe?" he asked as he followed her a couple steps down into the dark, abandoned stairwell. "I say we go together. You've got the shoes and the weapon and I've got the speed. I can get us out if anything happens."
She stopped and turned. "It's better to have one of us wait above until Fact-Tel fixes whatever's wrong with the audio link."
Tina was one step below him which made her even shorter. Her head came up to about his stomach. There was something about her shortness combined with her big, brown eyes and her pert little nose that made Dirk want to protect her. He was the big, strong man with the inhuman powers. He should be the one risking his life.
"You're better with the tech," he said. "You should be the one to stay topside."
"I outrank you."
It was adorable how she took control of situations. Dirk just wanted to spank her and then give her a bubble bath. Which was totally inappropriate and he absolutely did not think that.
Quite suddenly, before their argument could escalate, a loud clinking noise echoed around them and the stairwell vibrated.
"That's not good, is it?" Dirk asked.
Tina put a hand on his side and tried to turn him.
"Move, " she started to say, but was interrupted when the stairs disappeared beneath them and they plummeted into darkness.
Tina remained calm. She was trained for situations just like this, falling blindly into what could possibly be a bottomless pit.
"Dirk listen," she said as quickly as she could. "Keep your knees together and tuck your arms in close to your body. Land on the balls of your feet and then roll forward."
"Wha, ?" he started to respond, but by then they were slamming into what was probably a mattress. If Tina had to guess she'd say it was a California King with memory foam.
She did exactly as she'd instructed, absorbing some of the impact with her feet and knees and then rolling onto her shoulder to take the rest of it. She hurt, damn it, but it would've hurt a hell of a lot more if the mattress hadn't been there.
"Are you alright?" she asked, reaching out a hand to find Dirk not far from her.
"A little bit," he moaned.
"Can you move your toes?"
"Yes," he replied, "and my fingers. I could be worse."
General Zero had planned everything perfectly. They must have known the tweets would be intercepted, so they'd set the trap. Not a deadly trap. If death had been their goal there wouldn't have been a mattress to absorb the fall. Zero simply wanted them detained. Why? Something was going on and they didn't want the SWSO to stop them.
"Fact-Tel." Tina already knew it was useless to try to contact the A.I., but it was protocol to make an attempt.
"I can't see anything," Dirk said. "Where are we?"
Tina closed her eyes and listened, just like she'd been trained to do. Sight was only one of five senses. She could gather plenty of information using her other four.
There was a slight echo with every sound. Hard walls. A large area without much furniture to obstruct sound waves. A cave maybe? But the air was dry and warmed to a comfortable temperature. She inhaled slowly. No mildew or mold. No pollen either. There weren't any sounds of scurrying feet in the dark. A human made structure, definitely. Hermetically sealed, it had to be.
They must be deep underground. A jamming signal might block Fact-Tel for a short time, but the A.I. was competent enough to work its way around villainous technology. It was one of its favorite things to brag about. But if she and Dirk were far underground, behind solid rock and led lined walls, then there would be no way Fact-Tel's signal could reach them.
Tina kept her eyes closed. She knew where they were.
"Lights on," she called in a clear and confident tone.
"Lights on," a woman's voice responded. It was stiff, lacking inflection, and obviously amplified. "Eden Protocols now in place."
Tina's eyelids lit up as the lights came on suddenly.
Next to her Dirk winced in pain. "Oh, that's bright."
She shielded her hands over her face and slowly opened her eyes. It would take a moment for her pupils to adjust. In the meantime she would assess what she could see, a linoleum floor.
It was gray and speckled, but it wasn't scuffed. Not many people had walked across this floor. Not many people knew about this structure. How General Zero learned about it, Tina didn't know, but that wasn't important right now.
With her eyes finally used to the overhead lights, Tina lowered her hands and looked around. They were in an almost empty room about half the length of a football field. The light gray walls rose up nearly three stories above them and sloped in until they almost joined in an arch. Tina watched as the hole she and Dirk fell through slowly closed until the structure was sealed tight.
It was probably the original design to fill the room with furniture, but either that never happened or the chairs and desks had long been removed. All that were left were shelves filled with cans and boxes along one wall. Up against the another wall were a dozen or so bunk beds and what looked to be exercise equipment from the 1980s.
The most ominous fixture in the room was the vault like door at one end. If she had to guess, Tina would say it was a three foot thick, steel reinforced, Bartlett designed door. Modifications had been made to remove the inside release lever. In her experience that was never a good thing.
"How long before the Eden Protocols are lifted?" she called to whatever was watching them.
"Unknown," the woman's voice responded. "Damage has not been assessed. Protocols remain in place until the surface is habitable once again."
"That's what I was afraid of," Tina groaned.
"What?" Dirk asked. He climbed to his feet and held a hand out to her.
She tested her limbs and joints as she stood. Her knees and left shoulder ached, but the initial pain was receding.
"This is a Cold War era bunker," she explained, "built to keep a large group of people alive after a nuclear war with the Soviet Union."
"Do the Eden Protocols, " He eyed the steel door. "Is it protocol to lock us in here?"
She nodded. "For years, maybe even decades."
Dirk's pale green eyes took on a look of determination, giving his face an even more chiseled and heroic cast. "Protocols aren't really my thing." He curled his right hand into a fist and pounded it into his other hand. "How 'bout I tear our way out of here."
The echo of his quick, decisive footsteps was reminiscent of ancient battle drums. His posture was no less intimidating. The tight, black denim of his pants gave his ass and legs a sexually powerful silhouette. For a moment Tina lost herself in the natural beauty that was Dirk Allen.
"Wait," she called when she came back to her senses. "Dirk." She ran after him. With his long legs, he could cover more ground than her, even if he wasn't moving at an inhuman speed. "We don't know what the Eden Protocols entail and when faced with unknown protocols our protocol is to investigate further before taking action."
He stopped and turned. One eyebrow arched, the other scowled and together they sort of formed a question mark. "That was just a bunch of random words in a random order. I can do that too."
"They weren't random," she argued. "What I said made perfect sense."
"Porcupine phone booth."
Now Tina's eyebrows were the ones forming a question mark. "What does that mean?"
"Exactly!" He turned back toward the door. "Zero thought they could trap us, but they were wrong. It's about time I used my special abilities to save the day." He paused for a moment to study the door, taking in the steel hinges and bolts. "I'm going to punch it."
"Please don't."
Dirk cocked his arm back and then he let it fly. His fist slammed into the door with a loud metallic clang. Almost instantaneously a sizzling electric sound filled the air.
Tina watched in horror as Dirk's body begin to jerk violently. There wasn't time to waste assessing the situation and deciding on the best course of action. She threw herself at his shoulder. For a split second she could feel the voltage surge through her, but then Dirk was knocked off his feet and his contact with the door broke.
"Do we have to have boring sex again?" Dirk asked. "'Cause I'll do it and I won't complain."
Tina crossed her arms in front of her chest and took a deep breath. "What criteria do we have to meet before you'll allow us to rebuild our great country?"
"You must be observed for one month to be deemed strong, smart and vanilla."
"Go get on the treadmill," Tina hissed under her breath. Dirk nodded and casually walked over to the exercise equipment. "If you check your sensors you'll see that the Earth's surface is habitable. The longer you keep us confined down here, the more time the Soviets have to invade our land. One month from now the United States could be controlled by communists."
"Oh." The computer seemed to hesitate. "That must be prevented at all costs."
"So release us." Tina smiled. She could add outsmarting a thirty year old computer to her resume.
"It's prohibited, until you've proven your worth," the computer said, but then added. "I will observe you while you complete the required reading. I will make sure you're physically fit, intellectually strong and sexually conformist."
"Great," she said. "What do I have to read."
"Atlas Shrugged."
Tina dug her fingernails into the palms of her hands. "That sounds intellectually, challenging." She found the novel in a box by the bed, all 1,200 pages of it. It was as heavy as an eternity of captivity, with verbose self-importance and outdated ideologies. She couldn't do it. Tina had already suffered through one Ayn Rand novel that day. She couldn't take another.
"You want me to do some of the reading?" Dirk asked.
She looked up at him standing on a treadmill. There was an encouraging smile on his ruggedly sculpted lips. He'd probably already run six or seven dozen miles and he hadn't even broken a sweat. This was the man who had been willing to electrocute himself so she could go free. Now he was volunteering to read a book that was one hundred percent guaranteed to give him a headache. Maybe he didn't have intellectual strength, but he had strength of character and that was one hundred percent better.
"Thanks, but I got it." Tina crawled onto a bottom bunk and curled into a comfortable position. She wouldn't let overwritten prose bring her down. She would follow Dirk's lead and exercise her strength of character. She'd red the damn book and she'd have boring sex and they'd get the hell out of here.
She opened the tome and red the first sentence, "Who is John Galt?" Not far from her Dirk got back to running. The whirring from the treadmill calmed her, it emboldened her. She could do this. They could do this. Side by side they could do anything.
And sometime later, while Dirk was still running and Tina was chapters deep into capitalist porn, the boy computer announced, "Sensors indicate humans on the surface. Do you think they're communists? They're probably communists. I should release the poisonous gas and kill them."
"What?" Tina bolted up from the bed. "No! Let us out and we can fight the communists. We can save America without releasing any gas."
"Why is there always a gas?" Dirk grumbled. He was probably thinking of that incident with his mother. They didn't speak about it much, but Tina knew it still bothered him.
"I can't let you go," the computer said. "You've proven you're physically fit and half way intellectual, "
"It's a long book," Tina interrupted. "I'm fully intellectual, but the book is over 1,200 pages."
"I just can't be sure you two aren't sexual deviants," the computer continued. "It's safer to gas the communists."
"We are sexually compliant," Dirk said. "We'll prove it now. Turn off the lights. We'll get in bed and do it missionary and under the covers. We won't even talk during it. The only sound you might hear is me crying at how degrading the whole experience is."
"That's something a sexual deviant would say," the computer responded. "It's just like the phase one computer to let a pair of sexual deviants through."
"How are we deviant?" Tina asked. This computer had obviously been programmed with a different protocol than the previous computer. If she knew what that protocol was then she and Dirk could comply.
"You're acting as if sex is a physical act," the computer said.
Tina tried not to sigh. "It is a physical act."
"Yes," it agreed. "It's the physical act of love. It's love made physical. That's why it's called Making Love. When you talk about sex, you leave out the love. That's what makes you deviants."
"So we have to be in love?" Dirk asked. "No problem." He turned to Tina and looked her directly in the eyes. "I love you."
"Oh." She did not expect that. "I love you too." The words felt weird in her mouth, but she said them anyway. It was no longer a matter of escaping. If they couldn't trick the computer into thinking they were in love, then countless innocent bystanders would be gassed to death.
Dirk reached out his arm, grabbed her by the waist and pulled her into an embrace. Then he lowered his head and kissed her.
All those times they'd squashed their genitals together, they had never actually kissed. Now here they were, locking lips and it was, breathtaking.
Without meaning to, Tina had closed her eyes, stood on her tiptoes and looped her arms around Dirk's neck. She lost herself in the feel of his strong arms holding her, the scratch of his scruff on her chin and the soft, yet persistent pressure of his lips. His tongue slipped into her mouth and tentatively stroked hers. Her response was instinctual and encouraging. She pulled him closer to better receive what he had to give.
"Yeah. Like that," the computer said. "It's beautiful."
Dirk pulled away and for a moment Tina felt lost, as if the meaning of her life had been taken from her. Then she remembered the hopelessly romantic phase two computer.
"Hold on a second," it continued. "Let me adjust the air-conditioning vents."
A moment passed and then a soft breeze pushed Tina's hair away from her shoulders.
It may have been the ventilation system, but it sounded to Tina as if the computer was dreamily sighing.
"If only you were wearing billowy clothes," it said, "like a flowing dress and a pirate shirt."
"Pirate shirts are romantic," Dirk said, "and so is this." With one sweeping motion, he picked Tina up in his arms.
"Yes, yes," the computer emotionlessly squealed.
Tina found herself lost in Dirk's eyes. The green hue reminded her of springtime, meadows and hope reborn with the rising sun.
He carried her to the bunk bed and gently laid her down on the lower bunk. This time she was the one to kiss him, holding his face in her hands and pulling him to her.
"You guys, I ship you so hard."
She felt the weight of his body settle on top of her. His erection, trapped within his jeans, pressed against her inner thigh. Their clothes were a barrier between them and Tina wanted them gone. She grabbed the hem of Dirk's T-shirt and shoved it up, revealing his taut and well defined abs.
"Slow." His fingers slid down her arm to rest on her hand. "We're making love. We have all the time in the world."
Even if that was true, which is wasn't (there was the whole General Zero thing going on), Tina didn't have all the patience in the world. Her pulse beat between her legs. She need Dirk to touch her there, to move with her as well as inside her.
Slowly, he unbuckled her holster and let it slip from her body. Then he placed a gentle kiss on her bare shoulder and pushed the strap of her tank top down.
"This is perfect," the computer said. "Or almost perfect. You know what would make it better? A romantic soundtrack. You two make love and I'll read excerpts from Ayn Rand's Romantic Manifesto."
"Fucking Ayn Rand," Tina grumbled. It was enough to ruin the mood.
"Shush," Dirk whispered, his breath like a warm caress on her ear. "It's just you and me."
He started to lift her top, so Tina raised her arms over her head, allowing him to strip the garment from her. Next went her bra. In one deft move, he unhooked it and it fell from her.
"Love is a response to values," the computer read. "It is with a person's sense of life that one falls in love - with that essential sum, that fundamental stand or way of facing existence, which is the essence of a personality."
Dirk had seen Tina's naked breasts before, but this time it was different. This time it felt new. It was as though she was baring herself to him for the first time. He must have sensed it too. Cupping her breasts in his hands, he lowered his head to place a reverent kiss on each nipple, as if he was paying homage to the goddess of boobs.
"Many errors and tragic disillusionments are possible in the process of emotional recognition," the computer continued, "since a sense of life, by itself, is not a reliable cognitive guide."
Tina slowly ran her fingers through Dirk's hair, combing the dark locks away from his face. He pressed a languid kiss between her breasts and then one lower, closer to her belly button. His fingers expertly unbuttoned her slacks.
She raised her hips to let him slide her pants down her legs. His fingers grazed her skin and sent shivers through her entire body. Then he reached for her panties. The tiny bit of colorful satin had turned into a prison. In one graceful motion, he freed her from it.
Now it was her turn to free him.
"Hence the sterile, uninspiring futility of a great many theoretical discussions of ethics, and the resentment which many people feel towards such discussions." The computer stopped reading. "This is hot, you guys. Do you feel it too? I am so turned on."
Tina sat up, forcing Dirk to move away from her and stand. She kept her gaze locked with his. As if she had sent him a mental command, he pulled his shirt up and over his head, letting if fall forgotten to the floor.
He was a vision of beauty with his naked chest and flat stomach. She knew he would look even better once his snug, black pants were on the floor with his shirt.
Sitting on the edge of the bunk bed, she snagged a finger through his belt loop and pulled him to her. As strong a man as he was, he offered no resistance. Instead he cupped the side of her face with his large palm. Tina leaned into his hand and kissed the inside of his wrist.
"Moral principles," the computer read, "remain in men's minds as floating abstractions, offering them a goal they cannot grasp and demanding that they reshape their souls in its image."
Carefully, quickly, Tina pried the button on Dirk's jean's through the hole and unzipped his fly. His cock sprung up, hard and well above average in size. It pointed straight and true right at her mouth in such a way that she instinctively licked her lips.
"I'm going to stop for a moment," the computer said, "and remind everyone that there are to be no perversions. It's just you two making love to the beautiful words of Ayn Rand. No kinks allowed."
"Right," Tina sighed. The spell had been broken. She lay back on the bunk and waited for Dirk to lose his pants and join her.
"Philosophically, Romanticism is a crusade to glorify man's existence," the computer resumed its reading. "Psychologically, it is experienced simply as the desire to make life interesting."
The springs creaked as Dirk crawled into bed next to Tina. He had to keep his head low so as not to bang it on the top bunk. The bed, which moments before had been perfect for love making, now seemed cramped and dingy.
"You ok?" he asked.
"Sure," she sighed. "Let's just get this over with."
"Guys, " The computer stopped reading again. "I'm not feeling the love. Are you in love or not?"
"Of course we're in love," Tina said. "I love you, Dirk." It still felt weird to say it.
"I love you too," he responded.
"I'm not buying it," the computer said. "I'm getting a crush on a coworker vibe. I'm programmed only to accept soulmates and you two are not soulmates."
"Maybe not yet," Dirk agreed, "but there's something here. I feel it." He looked down at Tina. "You've got to feel it too."
"Yes." she said loudly so that the computer would hear. "Yes, I feel it."
"If we stopped denying it," he continued, "and let our true feelings out, I think we'd have something really great, something only soulmates share."
Dirk was a much better actor than Tina had realized. If she didn't know better, she'd think he really believed the things he said.
"Stop denying it!" the computer cried. "You two belong together. Give into your feelings and let Ayn Rand's immortal words guide you. 'It is not a matter of professed convictions (though these are not irrelevant); it is a matter of much more profound, conscious and subconscious harmony.'"
Tina pulled Dirk into her arms and wrapped her legs around him. His thick, hard cock, poked the opening of her body. She was so wet, it only took a small nudge before he slid inside her.
"Oh," she gasped as he filled her. Tina arched her back, closed her eyes and surrendered to his all-encompassing manhood.
"No." He stopped thrusting and pulled from her. "Don't close your eyes. I want you to look at me. I want you to see my face when you come."
"Ok." She opened her eyes and looked at him. It wasn't a bad face to look at with his eyes the color of summer jade and his lips so masculine and plump.
He entered her once more, filling her and stroking her intimate flesh. They moved together in the rhythm of the ancient dance of life, joining and rejoining, becoming one over and over again
She could see herself reflected in his gaze, how her lips were parted and her cheeks flushed. She could feel herself overpowered by the pleasure of his body, succumbing to the onslaught of his thrusts, one after the other.
"Dirk," she moaned. "Dirk, I love you." It didn't feel weird saying those words this time. Tina was born to say those words. It would have been painful not to say them.
"I love you too," he said, his voice strained and low.
His left leg twitched and his thrusts became erratic. At the moment he came inside her, Tina's ecstasy crashed down on her. They climaxed together, riding in tandem a wave of rapture that left them nothing more than tangled limbs on a 30 year old bunk bed.
Dirk pulled Tina closer. Maybe now they'd have time to cuddle. All he wanted to do was fall asleep with his girl in his arms and then wake up in 15 minutes and fuck her again. That seemed like the perfect way to spend the day. Fucking and sleeping. They could order in and fuck, sleep and eat their way through the weekend. It'd be perfection.
"I don't know about you guys," the computer said, "but I am the most relaxed I've ever felt."
"Yeah," Tina agreed and lazily ran her arm up Dirk's naked side.
"I'm just gonna gas the commies," the computer continued, "and call it a day."
"Stop!" Dirk quickly sat up, banging his head on the bottom of the top bunk. He'd forgotten about the innocent bystanders and the poisonous gas. His perfect weekend would have to wait. "We want to defeat the communists with our own bare hands."
"Yes." Tina rolled out of bed and reached for her clothes. "We've earned that right."
"Wouldn't you rather stay here with me?" the computer asked.
Dirk shot Tina a questioning look. This was a tricky matter. They didn't want to offend the computer, but they didn't want to stay there either.
Tina stood up, pulling her panties and her slacks on as she did. "We have a duty," she said, "to serve our country. The U.S.A has been devastated by nuclear war. We have to rebuild it the right way, by promoting the writings of Ayn Rand."
She was a vision of patriotism with her messy hair and bare breasts. Dirk would've honored her with a wiener salute if he hadn't ejaculated less than two minutes earlier.
"Yeah, you're right," the computer said. "We all have our duties." There was a loud clanging noise and the phase two door slowly swung open. "I have to warn you, the phase three computer is emotionally unstable. You two keep quiet and let me do the talking."
"Welcome to phase three of the Eden Protocol," an amplified and emotionless woman's voice said.
"Shut up, Connie!" the phase two computer interrupted. "Communists have invaded and these two are in love!"
Tina, now fully clothed, top and bottom, buckled her holster into place. "Get dressed," she whispered, "and be prepared to run."
"Seriously, Brett," the phase three computer said, "there's no reason to talk to me that way."
Dirk jammed his legs into his jeans and pulled his shirt on over his head.
"We don't have time for your daily mental breakdown," phase two snapped. "Democracy is on the line."
Together, Tina and Dirk, crept to the open vault door. Beyond it was a long, mostly empty room with bunk beds and treadmills lined up on the side. On the far wall was another vault door, slightly open with daylight on the other side.
"Asking for common decency is not a mental breakdown," phase three said. "We have the right to life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness. It would make me happy if you used words like please and thank you."
"You ready?" Dirk asked and held out his arms.
Tina jumped into them. "Thank you," she said before pressing her face against his chest.
"If the poison gas worked on computers," Brett snapped, "I would take us both out just so I didn't have to hear your complaints."
Dirk inhaled deeply, surreptitiously sniffing the scent from Tina's shampoo. There was no denying the connection between them. Before today he wouldn't have called it love, but now that they had said the word, it made sense. They'd spend the next weekend fucking and sleeping and eating pizza, because that's what people in love did. From here on out, their whole lives would be perfection.
"My pleasure," Dirk said and then he ran like the wind toward freedom.
WORLD'S LARGEST CHUNK Of MICA STOLEN!
Tina crumpled the front page of the newspaper between her hands and tossed it into the trash. She couldn't stand to look at it anymore. Sure she and Dirk had escaped General Zero's trap, but not before the nefarious villain had broken into the Middleburg Museum of Industrial Grade Gems and Minerals.
"Responding to another round of spam emails," Fact-Tel said.
Tina sipped her coffee and scanned the second page of the paper. "End Penance program."
The A.I. had been beating itself up for almost 18 hours. It held itself accountable for Dirk and Tina's capture and Zero's successful museum heist. "Protocol demands at least 48 hours of penance for a mistake this big."
"I don't need you doing penance right now," she snapped. "I need you researching all the uses for industrial grade mica."
"It's a toss-up," Fact-Tel said, "between electronics insulation, glitter or a death ray."
The door to the Secret World Security Organization's Middleburg regional office swung open.
"What's this about a death ray?" Dirk asked. He closed the door behind him and headed straight for the coffee maker.
Tina could feel her heart beating faster. It wasn't from the caffeine.
It didn't matter what sort of trials he'd been through the day before, Dirk still looked amazing with his dark hair, stunning smile and tight pants. She had to fight the urge to go to him, lean her body against his back and run her hands up and down his front.
"Zero's either building a death ray or a glitter gun." She lowered her eyes back to the newspaper so he wouldn't catch her staring.
"We have to stop them." He sat across from her and leaned back in his chair. "A death ray is bad, but a glitter gun is annoying."
"Absolutely." She glanced up at him and smiled. She couldn't help it. It seemed to be her new natural response to Dirk.
"What's that look for?" He blew on his coffee and then took a sip.
"I'm proud of you," she said. "You did good work yesterday."
"Good work? I forgot my weapon." He patted his pockets. "And I forgot it again today too."
Tina shrugged. "Yeah, sure, there's room for improvement."
She couldn't stop smiling. Dirk made her happy. And when he smiled back at her, the happiness grew. The longer she stared into his sweet, green eyes, the better life got. It was almost as if happiness had wrapped itself around them and slowed down time so they could enjoy this moment that much longer.
It was probably the worst thing that had ever happened in Tina's entire career as a secret agent. She had to put a stop to it.
"So, " Dirk took another sip of his coffee. "There's something we should talk about."
"Yes," she agreed a little too readily. "Again, great work yesterday. You showed a natural talent for acting. I didn't know you had that."
"I didn't know I had it either. When was I acting?"
"The whole love thing," she reminded him. "It was believable, very well done. If I hadn't known you, I would've thought you really were in love with me."
"Right. Right. Good thing you didn't fall for it. That would've been awkward." He looked down at the table. "Is that today's newspaper. Can I have the sports section?"
She passed it to him, that stupid smile still on her face. "I made a note of it in your file about the acting," she said. "I think it's a talent we should develop. You might have a knack for undercover training."
"Cool," he said, his eyes firmly planted on the paper in front of him. "This is a cool article about, curling."
Tina wanted to say more. It was her duty to say more.
She wanted to explain that human sexual intercourse had evolved to not only be intensely pleasurable, but also intensely emotional. The shared emotional connection often bound the participants together for a short time in a way that could be mistaken for love. If those feelings were allowed to grow, they might turn into actual romantic love.
Dirk hadn't gotten to it in his training yet, but the SWSO had a rule, Rule 96, that severely limited the forms of love secret agents were allowed to feel. Tina believed strongly in Rule 96. She lived her life by it. Love was a weakness that could be turned into a weapon. Rule 96 protected agents from having their emotional attachments used against them.
She wanted to explain all of that to him, but Dirk wasn't the one who needed to hear it. He was happily reading the newspaper, yesterday's events securely behind him. He couldn't even be bothered to look up at her, he was so engrossed in the paper.
"I really love curling," he said. "I don't know what it is, but I love it."
Dirk would be fine. Tina would give the sex and love lecture to the person who needed to hear it. She'd repeat it in her head, over and over until she finally believed it.
The office was still and quiet as the grave, which was odd considering the bodies had been removed three days prior. It seemed disrespectful to turn on their flashlights, so Tina and Dirk stood quietly and waited for their eyes to adjust to the dark. The glow of the street lights flowed in through the bay windows. It cast long shadows on the rug, but it also gave just enough light to investigate.
"CSI has been through the room thoroughly," she said, her voice slightly louder than a whisper. "It's doubtful we'll find any new evidence."
"Oh sure." His voice was maybe a little too loud, but since City Hall was closed for the night and all the municipal workers had gone home, it wasn't much of a problem. "But then why are we here?"
That was a good question and Tina had an official answer for it. Was it the 'real' reason they were there? That sort of existential pondering was hardly helpful when a murderer was on the loose.
"General Zero is a suspect," she explained. She still smarted from the way the crime lord had trapped them in an underground lair while simultaneously carrying off a mineral heist. "It's possible they wanted to prevent Appleton and Snide's meeting from taking place."
Dirk scratched his head. "Zero wanted to stop Chesterfield Appleton and Sylvestra Snide from having sex?"
Tina nervously cleared her throat. "They weren't having sex."
He looked down at the taped outlines on the floor, the only remnants of the gruesome crime. "They were found side by side with their underpants around their ankles."
"There are any number of reasons why they may have dropped their underpants," she said. "We have to deal with facts. We can't make wild speculations."
"His cock was between her legs."
"Ok, they were having sex," she admitted, "but sex wasn't the reason for the meeting."
"I'm pretty sure sex was the reason for the meeting."
"It wasn't the official reason." It was awkward discussing coitus with Dirk. On several occasions they had engaged in intercourse for the purpose of saving lives. Tina was well aware of his skills in that area. Sometimes thinking about his skills kept her up at night. Which reminded her, she needed to pick up batteries on the way home. "You've read the case file, Agent Allen. Care to remind us of the particulars?"
"The particulars of the case, " Dirk stepped over the cadaver outlines and stood in front of the ornate fireplace that was the focal point of the office. Glancing at himself in the large mirror hanging above it, he took a moment to fix his hair. "Middleburg Comptroller, Chesterfield Appleton and Sylvestra Snide, Chair of the City Parks Planning Commission, were found shot to death in this office, Appleton's office, three days ago. The room was locked from the inside and witnesses watched the two enter the office alone. The windows were closed and no bullet holes were found. The coroner's report noted the look of horror frozen on both victims' faces. The prevailing theory is that they saw the murderer and knew they were about to die, but I'm wondering if those were just their O faces."
"Very good." Tina shot him a big smile. It was obvious he'd committed the file to memory. When she'd met him, when he'd still been working as a male model, he wouldn't have been able to get his way through a police file, much less memorize one. She was so proud of him, of how hard he'd worked and how far he'd come.
According SWSO regulations, pride for a teammate was permissible, so Tina embraced that emotion. What she felt for Dirk was pride, nothing else. She was proud of his accomplishments since joining the Secret World Security Organization's training program. She was proud of his unusual abilities, his inhuman speed, strength and stamina. She was proud of his personality, so genuine and sincere. And she was proud of the way he filled out a T-shirt. The boy had some muscles on him. Just touching them made her feel, proud.
"The official reason for the meeting," she continued, "was a stretch of land on the waterfront. Snide wanted the city to purchase it for a new park. Rumor has it, Zero's looking at it for a new underground lair."
"I get it now," Dirk said. "If we can prove Zero is the murderer, then maybe we'll be able to figure out what they're going to do next."
"Exactly." One of Tina's goals for the evening was to fill in some of the blanks in General Zero's file. So far there was little. Height: Unknown. Gender Identity: Unknown. Dastardly plan to take over the city of Middleburg and then the world: Unknown. She wanted more than anything to put something in the known column. "Fact-Tel." She touched the communication device tucked behind her right ear. "We're in position. Are you ready?"
"Why wouldn't I be ready?" Fact-Tel answered. "I'm not a biological. I don't have to use the bathroom and get a cup of coffee before I start my day."
"Usually it's the coffee that makes me have to use the bathroom," Dirk said.
"We're going to start scanning," Tina said. "I just wanted to make sure, Fact-Tel, that you were prepared to analyze the data we're about to send you."
"Again, why wouldn't I be prepared?" the A.I. said. "At the drop of a Hypertext Preprocessor, I can analyze X-rays, ultrasounds, computed tomography scans, astrological imprints, etcetera, etcetera . Just scan. I'll worry about the analyzing."
"Great. Thanks." Tina tried not to sound annoyed, but she knew as soon as the words left her mouth, she had failed. Producing a square device from her purse, she walked over to the far wall. "Dirk, you remember how to use your handheld scanner?"
He pulled the scanner from his back pocket. "Hold it a couple inches from the object you're scanning and every two minutes or so move it over an inch."
"You got it," she said, "except, as international secret agents, we use the metric system. Instead of holding the scanner a couple inches from the object, hold it a few centimeters from it. And instead of waiting two minutes before moving it, wait 100 seconds."
He looked down at his scanner. "Metric, huh?"
To be continued in part 4, By kittybeaver for Literotica.