Of course he was good looking. In fact, 'good looking' was an understatement. 6'4" and 240 lbs of muscle clad in tight blue jeans and an equally tight red t-shirt, he was intimidatingly gorgeous. Dirk Allen made his living as a male model, so Tina had expected intimidatingly gorgeous. Good thing for her she wasn't easily intimidated.
If he hadn't been her assignment, she would've entertained the thought of seducing him. Sometimes, when global safety was at stake, seduction was part of her assignment, so she had that skill set. Tina knew how to accidentally position herself in a man's line of vision and show her figure at the best angle. She could purposefully make the random eye contact that somehow lead to the chance connection. She knew how to suggest he come back to her place in such a way that it was obvious she'd "never done this sort of thing before." And she knew how to ride a cock. She would have been more than happy to prove that to male model Dirk Allen.
Tina could picture him sprawled naked on her living room floor. In that picture she was straddling him, impaling herself on his engorged manhood, rocking her hips to a rhythm that made him whimper. She could almost feel his silky, raven black hair as she fisted it and pulled him up into a sitting position, encouraging him to suck and bite her breasts. Oh God, her breasts ached for the touch of his full, pouty lips.
"Keep on mission, Agent Blondel," an authoritative voice chirped from the small communicator tucked behind Tina's ear.
"Stay out of my bio readings, Fac-Tel," she snapped.
Generally it was helpful to have an artificial intelligence with access to every database in the world at Tina's beck and call. Usually it was a good thing Fac-Tel monitored her vital signs, making sure she hadn't been poisoned or wasn't bleeding internally. But at that moment, when Tina's nipples were so stiff they cast shadows on her silk blouse, Fac-Tel's omniscient omnipresence wasn't helpful or a good thing.
"This is why I don't like working with biologicals," Fac-Tel muttered. "You all get distracted by the mere thought of reproduction."
"Target is heading west on Spruce," Tina said as Dirk Allen disappeared from view. "Possible destinations?"
"I don't know," Fac-Tel groaned. "There's like 80 coffee shops between here and 22nd Street. He's probably going to one of those."
"You're a big help. Thanks." Tina casually slid around the corner onto Spruce Street, catching sight of her target almost immediately. With his broad shoulders and tight ass, he stood out in a crowd.
"He's not good breeding material," Fac-Tel warned her. "Sure he's got perfect DNA, but all my research indicates he's a mama's boy."
"Not looking to breed," she said while she slipped through the lunch crowd lining up at a sidewalk hot-dog cart.
"Do you really want Delia Villa-Allen as your mother-in-law?" the AI asked. "She is kind of evil."
"We haven't proved that yet," Tina reminded him. "And I'm not in the market for a mother-in-law... or husband, for that matter."
Love wasn't a luxury she could afford. As the number one agent for the SWSO, Tina Blondel didn't have time for date nights or boyfriends. All her time was spent protecting the public from people like Delia Villa-Allen, CEO of Villa Pharmaceuticals. If reports could be trusted, Villa-Allen had developed the formula for Delectiovenenum and was planning to use it to enslave the human race.
It was Tina's mission to infiltrate Villa Pharmaceuticals, find out if those reports were true and, if they were, stop the fiendish plot before it could be completed. She hoped hunky Dirk Allen was, in fact, a mama's boy. If he was the sort of son who diligently listened while his mother complained about her workday then perhaps he knew a thing or two about Villa Pharmaceuticals' alleged illegal experiments and maybe, just maybe, Tina could trick him into giving up those secrets and helping her save the world.
For the last block and a half, Tina had stealthily followed Dirk. She noted his every move, never taking her eyes off of him. But she did have to blink and it was in that half second of blinking that she lost sight of him. One moment he was there, the next he wasn't.
"Fac-Tel," Tina gasped. "Where'd he go?"
"I... um... ehhh..." the AI stammered.
"Hack into the surveillance cameras on the neighboring buildings," she ordered. "There's got to be something. He was just here."
"Maybe that alleyway," Fac-Tel suggested, but Tina could tell from the tone of his mechanical voice he had nothing.
Sure enough, the ally was a dead end. There wasn't a single male underwear model hiding behind the dumpster. Tina sighed with frustration. If the human race was enslaved it would all be her fault, hers and her stupid, blinking eyes.
"Check architectural plans and recent building applications," she said, knowing it was hopeless, but she had to try. "Maybe there's a hidden door somewhere."
At that moment a gust of wind stirred the back of Tina's skirt, almost lifting it past her hips. She spun around and found herself not two feet away from the elusive Dirk Allen. By God, he was even better looking up close, what with his pale green eyes and chiseled jaw.
"Did my mother send you?" he asked.
Tina's face stayed deadly serious, but in her mind she smiled. She knew how to get the information she needed. It would be as easy as picking up a one night stand at a sports bar.
"She's worried about you, Dirk," Tina said, her eyes filling with concern. "We all are."
* * * * *
Of course, the cute, little blonde worked for his mother. Dirk couldn't have been more disappointed.
When he had noticed her following him three blocks back he'd hoped she was a fashion model groupie. He never actually had a groupie stalk him before, but he had heard stories and they all ended in filthy, unnatural, hate-yourself-in-the-morning sex.
There were a few things he didn't particularly like about himself, things that definitely fell under the category of "unnatural." Heck, he was going to hate himself in the morning anyway. For the past few months it had been his constant mindset. If he was going to feel like shit, Dirk might as well get laid first.
And the blonde was just his type, petite but with ample tits and ass. Dirk was a big guy and he had large hands. For him to get a satisfying handful there had to be a lot there to grab. This woman had a lot and he wanted to grab it all and squeeze.
But... she worked for his mom. Squeezing was inappropriate.
If she had been a groupie he would have grabbed her ample ass. He would've lifted her by her ass and let her wrap her legs around his hips. He'd lean her against the filthy alley wall, because that's how she liked it, filthy. Reaching up her skirt, he'd push her panties out of his way and sheath himself in her slick, hot pussy.
"Oh Dirk, Dirk," she would pant as he'd start to move inside her. "More... harder..."
The more he'd give her the more she'd beg until his thrusts made her breasts bounce so hard the buttons would pop off her shiny, purple blouse. She'd scream his name one last time before she came, her inner muscles gripping his cock and forcing him to shoot his load.
That's what probably would have happened if the blonde didn't work for his mother, but since she did she was going to do what his mother usually did; look at him like he was a big disappointment.
"... and that's why she's worried about you," the cute, little blonde said. "You don't seem to be able to focus."
