Progeny

This is the third installment of the Progeny chain story, started by Slyc_Willie. My thanks to him and to the others involved. Feedback appreciated.

Portland, Maine

Dorian looked out the unemployment office window. Fuck. It was raining again. Just what he needed.

Weather like this reminded him of why he should get a car. Of course, even if he had a car he wouldn't be able to drive it, since his foster parents had never seen fit to let him take driver's ed. When he could scrounge up change for a bus or cab ride he was all set, but since he was between jobs right now even the one-dollar bus fare was hard to come by.

So walking it was. Even though it was pouring outside.

"Need a lift?"

Dorian turned to look at the woman who had spoken. She was a couple inches shorter than he, with curly brown hair and a sweet smile. "Didn't anyone ever teach you not to give rides to strangers?"

"Yeah, but I'm not good at doing what I'm told." She held out her hand. "I'm Monica Hollis."

"Dorian Truslow." He didn't shake her hand. He tried to avoid touching anyone or anything; physical contact set his gift in motion. Gift. Yeah, right. That was what one of his foster mothers had called it, when he was too young to catch on that he shouldn't let anyone know what he could do. Curse was more like it. Of course, he could always shut his mental door and keep the psychometric information out, but that gave him headaches after a while. Even though he usually only got information from objects, not people, why take a chance?

Monica didn't seem offended, which was unusual. A lot of people got pissed off when Dorian didn't shake hands with them. "So now that we aren't strangers, want a lift? It's raining pretty hard out there; you shouldn't be walking."

"How do you know I walked here?"

"I saw you come in."

Wrong answer. She might have seen him walk into the office, but everyone walked into the office; the parking lot was behind the place, and a lot of people parked on the street because the lot got full quickly. Never a trusting person, Dorian immediately became more suspicious of her. "How do you know I walked all the way here?"

She shifted her eyes to the window. "Lucky guess?"

Another wrong answer. Whoever this chick was, she didn't mean anything good for him, Dorian was sure of that. "I'll take my chances with the rain, thanks."

He started out the door, but she grabbed his arm. He pushed her away so hard she almost fell; no one touched him without warning. "I'm sorry," she said immediately. "I forgot you don't like to be touched."

"Forgot? Do you know me from somewhere?"

"Not exactly." She sighed. "Look, I know I'm not making any sense, and I know right now you're thinking I'm either a nutcase or dangerous. Maybe both. Just let me give you a ride somewhere and I'll explain everything, I promise."

"Fine." The last thing he wanted was to be alone with her, but that seemed to be the only way he'd get any answers. If she tried anything, he could fight his way out of it. He'd had plenty of practice at that in his twenty-two years. Starting at home with his biological parents.

Monica led him down the street to a small, brown hatchback. She unlocked the passenger door, then climbed in and scooted over to the driver's seat. "My door doesn't work. Get in. I promise I'll only bite if you ask me to."

"Not likely." Dorian got in and fastened the seatbelt. When he touched it, an image flicked his mind; headache or no headache, he slammed his mental door shut. He didn't want to know about her boyfriend or whoever had sat in that seat last.

She started the car and headed away from the unemployment office. "I thought we could go for coffee. Figure you probably don't want me knowing where you live."

"You got that right." If he could help it, she wouldn't find out anything about him. But he was very curious about her. "So once again, and let's try for truth this time, how'd you know I walked to the office?"

"I know a lot about you. I've been looking for you."

"Stop the goddamn car." The only people who looked for him were people he'd rather not have find him. "Now!"

"Wait, please. I knew that didn't come out right. I don't want to hurt you, Dorian. I want to help you. I've been dreaming about you."

"Uh huh." Okay, that had him beat in the freak category. "So I'm the man of your dreams, huh?"

She laughed. "Not exactly. Sometimes I dream about people who need help, or people who are going to be part of my life. Sometimes I don't know why I'm having the dreams, because the people in them never show up in real life. It's been going on since I was little, and some of the dreams are so vivid I'm not sure afterward whether they were dreams or reality. Earned me some strange looks when I was a kid, I'll tell you."

"Yeah." He was all too familiar with strange looks caused by psychic abilities. He just hoped the looks Monica had received hadn't been accompanied by fists.

"Sorry if I'm babbling. Anyway, I dreamed about you, and that's how I knew your name and stuff. I dreamed about meeting you in the unemployment office. That's how I knew you walked, because in my dream that was how you got there."

"Did you dream about me taking a piss in the men's room, too?"

"No." She paused. "In my dream, you took a dump instead."

That startled Dorian into a rare laugh. "Okay, points to you. So you showed up at unemployment to track me down?"

"And because I need a job. Who doesn't, nowadays? But yeah, I was hoping I'd find you there."

She pulled into a strip mall and parked in front of a chain coffee shop. "I'm buying. Come on, we'll be able to talk here."

"Did you dream that too?"

"Yep." She nudged him. "Get out so I can. My door, remember?"

Dorian got out and fought the urge to shut the door on her and run. Even though she didn't seem dangerous, it was hard to tell. It weirded him out that she'd dreamed about him. Who knew what she'd found out about him?

On the other hand, it was rare to find someone else with an ability, and he wasn't sure he wanted to push her away just because he was a suspicious son of a bitch. He waited for her to get out of the car, then followed her into the shop.

The place was deserted, other than a kid at the counter who looked bored enough to fall asleep. He seemed thrilled to take their orders; they were probably the first customers he'd had all day. Once they had their drinks, they sat at a back table, far enough away from the counter that the kid would have to work if he wanted to eavesdrop. "Trust me yet?" Monica asked.

"Nope, but don't take it personally."

"I know. You don't trust anyone. That's sad. You shouldn't have to live like that."

"Been like that all my life. I don't expect it to change any time soon. Look, you seem to know everything about me. Including my ability?"

She nodded. "Psychometry. You touch an object and gain information about the last person to touch it. Sometimes everyone who's ever touched it. Is that why you don't own a car?"

"I don't own a car because people tend to expect money when you buy one. I can shut off the ability when I have to, but it's a stretch. And I don't get information from every single thing I touch, anyway."

"That must be a relief. How do you know which is which?"

"If I'm going to get something from it, my hands start tingling when I get near it. Usually. Sometimes I don't get any warning."

"At least an occasional warning is better than nothing."

"Yeah." He wasn't sure he liked the way this was going. He didn't talk much about himself, mainly because no one had ever wanted to listen before. Monica might be listening, but he was done giving free information. "Okay, so you know everything there is to know about me, but I don't know anything about you besides your name. Fill me in. Who are you, where are you from, why are you here, all that crap."

"You're so charming. I'm Monica Hollis, I've lived around here all my life, I'm here in this coffee shop because I'm talking to you. And I prefer not to discuss my toilet habits."

Again she caught him by surprise. Unfortunately, he laughed with a mouthful of latte and snorted some out his nose. That sent Monica into a fit of giggles that caused the counter kid to stare at them until Dorian glared back. Monica handed him a few napkins. "Here, mop yourself up. Sorry, I wouldn't have said it if I'd known you'd end up wearing your drink."

"No problem." He wiped up the latte that had gotten on his shirt and the table. "I guess it's nice to be able to laugh for once."

"Things haven't been easy for you, have they? I mean, in my dream..."

"I don't want to talk about it."

It came out more harshly than he meant, but at least it shut her up. "Sure. I understand that. Okay, so anything else you want to know about me?"

A car horn sounded in front of the shop. They both looked toward the door. All Dorian saw was a black sports car; he didn't know enough about cars to figure out what it was. Monica's face turned white. "We have to get out of here. Wait, no, we can't. If we leave, they'll see us."

"Who is it? Your boyfriend or something?"

"I don't have a boyfriend. It's Krell. Or at least some of his people."

"Krill? Isn't that the stuff whales eat?"

"Not krill. Krell. He's... I can't explain right now. Damn it, I dreamed about this, now what did we do?" She closed her eyes. "Okay. Bathroom, now."

"Thought you didn't share your bathroom habits."

She glared at him, but there was more fear than anger in her eyes. Whatever was going on, it terrified her. Without another word, Dorian got up and went into the unisex bathroom next to them. Monica followed. "Hey!" the kid at the counter called. "You can't—"

Dorian shut the door on his protest. "Okay. Talk."

"Krell is a multibillionaire, I think. He owns a whole town in Wisconsin. He's looking for people with psychic powers. Not just anyone, though. Like I wouldn't interest him in the least. But you do."

"Why me? Is it because of my ability?"

She shook her head. "That part of the dreams was kind of fuzzy. It has something to do with where you were born or something. I couldn't get the whole story. But he's a bad man, Dorian. Evil. You don't want him to find you, believe me."

"Did he find me in your dream?"

"I woke up."

Great. What good were her dreams if she couldn't tell him something this important? But it wasn't her fault. At least she was able to warn him. Though if she'd dreamed about this, why hadn't she warned him before the bad guys showed up? "Okay. I'm going to make sure they're not still out there. If they are, there's a back door to this place. The coffee cowboy out there might not want us to use it, but we will anyway."

"What about my car? We won't be able to get to it without them seeing us."

"You might have to leave it here for now. But don't worry; Portland has a great public transportation system."

He opened the bathroom door. The counter kid opened his mouth, but shut it after another glare from Dorian. The black car was still in front of the shop, and a skinny guy with glasses had gotten out of it, along with a thick-necked fat dude who perfectly fit the stereotype of "goon." He and Monica definitely wouldn't be able to get out that way. "Guess we're taking the bus. Come on."

Monica followed him out of the bathroom and behind the counter. "You can't come back here!" the kid shrieked. "There are health regulations!"

"Yeah, and your health depends on letting us out the back door," Dorian said. "See that car out there?"

The kid looked. "Yeah. What about it?"

"They're looking for me. I haven't done anything wrong, but if they find me, that won't matter. So we're going out the back way, and if they ask, you don't know where we went. Got it?"

"Why should I do anything for you?"

Dorian grabbed his arm and squeezed. "Because if anything happens to me, I'll make sure something happens to you."

"Okay, okay! Go, just get the hell out of here. And hurry up, because it looks like your friends are coming in."

Shit. The kid was right. Dorian took Monica's hand and pulled her through the kitchen to the back door, which fortunately wasn't locked. They burst through the door into the rain just as Dorian heard one of the men from the car say, "Where'd they go?"

"Follow me and don't ask questions."

Monica didn't speak, just nodded. Good. One of Dorian's foster homes had been in this part of town; he remembered the woods behind the strip mall very well, having spent plenty of time hiding there from bullies and his drunken foster father. He led Monica down the path that led from the stores to a housing development a quarter mile away. If Krill—Krell—whatever his name was, if his goons could track them down through the woods in the rain, they deserved to catch him.

No one could catch Dorian when he didn't want to be caught.

They were soaked before they'd gone more than a few hundred yards. Monica's shirt clung to her, accentuating small breasts with nipples hardened by the cold. Shit. This was no time to get horny, but it had been a while since a woman had looked so appealing.

He forced himself to look away from Monica and instead focused on the path in front of them. "You okay?"

"A little cold, but it's better than having them catch us."

"There's a bus stop not far from here. I'm going to take you to my place. You can shower and warm up there."

"They might be watching your place. They know almost as much about you as I do."

Fucking hell, why did everyone have to know so much? All he'd wanted was to do his obligatory job hunt, go home and stuff his face, and crash in front of the TV for the rest of the day. Instead, he was running through the woods in the pouring rain with some woman he'd just met, trying to get away from goons who worked for a guy who was apparently richer than the entire population of Portland.

Then again, if he had to be stuck in the woods, at least he was with a woman whose soaking wet body did interesting things to his anatomy.

Again he looked away from Monica and hurried down the path. They emerged into the housing development and Dorian scanned the street to make sure no black cars were in sight. "Okay. Bus stop's this way. We'll go to your place if you don't want to go to mine."

"Yeah. You can get dried off there too."

For once, Dorian had good luck. A bus pulled up to the stop just as they reached it. As they climbed aboard, he was sure he saw the black sports car, but he didn't think the men had seen him and Monica, so he relaxed.

The bus headed downtown. When it stopped, they transferred to an outbound bus that took them a couple miles before Monica pulled the buzzer. They got off at the corner of a street filled with large, old houses. "You live here?" Dorian asked.

"I rent a basement from my aunt and uncle. They're not home, so don't worry about what they'll think of me bringing a strange man with me."

Her basement was three times the size of the room Dorian rented in one of the downtown residence hotels. It was even divided into three rooms: a small kitchen, a living room, and a bedroom. "Nice place."

"Thanks. Hang on a minute; I'll go upstairs and get some of my uncle's clothes for you. Shower's in there if you want to get started." She nodded toward a small door off the kitchen.

Dorian went in, turned on the water, and stripped. He was relieved to be away from Monica for a few minutes. She'd dried off some on the bus ride, but he hadn't forgotten how she'd looked soaking wet, and his cock was still hard.

He got into the warm water and soaped up, then grasped his dick in one hand. Eyes closed, he pictured Monica on her knees in front of him as he stroked himself.

Then the bathroom door opened.

His eyes flew open and he let go of himself just before Monica pulled the shower curtain aside. She was as naked as he; the hair between her legs curled like the hair on her head. "Mind if I join you?"

"Um, sure. Conserve water, right?"

"Right." She stepped into the stall. There wasn't much room for two, but Dorian didn't mind having her body against his. His cock grew so hard it hurt. With a grin, Monica brushed her hand against it. "Happy to see me?"

God, her touch felt amazing. How long had it been since he'd let anyone touch him like this? "If you're going to do that, you'd better be prepared for the consequences."

"And what might those be?"

"You on your knees sucking me, to start with."

Without a word, Monica knelt and took him into her mouth. Holy shit, was he imagining this? Couldn't be; her mouth felt too fucking incredible. She had him all the way to the base, then pulled back and sucked just the head.

It took about two seconds for him to come. She swallowed every drop.

He leaned against the wall of the shower. "Fuck, I'm sorry. Usually takes me longer than that."

"Been a while, huh? Me too. Don't worry, you can make it up to me after we finish cleaning up."

They stayed in the shower till the water was cold, soaping each other up, touching everywhere. When they got out, Dorian was hard again. His first instinct was to bend her over the sink and take her from behind, but that wouldn't have been polite. "Bed. Now."

"Yes, Caveman Dorian."

He swatted her ass and pushed her out the bathroom door. They fell together onto her bed, and he pressed his mouth against hers as he resumed his exploration of her body. She endured it for only a few moments before she pushed him onto his back and straddled him. "Fuck me."

"I like a woman who knows what she wants. Did you dream about this too?"

"Don't talk about dreams. Don't talk about psychometry, don't talk about anything. Just fuck me. Just for one time, let me be a normal woman."

"You're too gorgeous to be normal." Dorian cupped her breasts in his hands. "You're the sexiest woman I've ever seen."

"Thank you. But you know what I mean."

He pulled her down for another kiss. "Don't be so serious. Please. I know exactly what you mean, and as far as I'm concerned, you're just another woman, I'm just another man, and this is going to be the best fuck you've ever had."

That brought a small smile to her face. "Pretty confident, huh?"

"Very."

She raised herself slightly, took his dick in her hand, and positioned it at her opening. "Prove it." Then she moved down.

Her cunt felt like a velvet-lined vise. Dorian hadn't been with many girls, but the few he'd fucked hadn't been anywhere near this tight. Or this wet. She lifted slightly and he thrust his hips upward, driving back into her. After a second they set a rhythm, fucking hard and fast, both seeking release.

When Monica came, Dorian felt it, both the contractions of her cunt along his dick and the emotions that flooded from her. They brought him over the brink, and he emptied his balls into her.

Shit. That was stupid of him.

But it was too late to do anything about it, and Monica didn't seem to mind. She dismounted and curled up beside him. "That was good. Thank you."

"Thank you. You were incredible."

She smiled. "Yeah, you too. And don't worry about coming in me; I'm on birth control."

"Good to know."

They lay there quietly for a while, until the silence became uncomfortable. Dorian went to the bathroom and retrieved his clothes, which were still damp from the rain. "I have stuff for you from my uncle," Monica said.

"These will do." He wanted to see her again, but didn't want to feel obligated to. If he borrowed clothes, he'd be obligated.

"Suit yourself." She pulled a dry shirt and pants out of her bureau and put them on, not bothering with underwear. "You can stay a while if you want, though. I could put your stuff in the dryer for you."

Dry clothes would be nice. Dorian stripped again and wrapped himself in the blanket from the bed. "Fine. Thanks."