Friday, December 08, 2006

Rough Draft

Title: Deflowering Squad

Back in the 1930's a secret organization formed by a small group of forty year olds. They made a pact together as virgins that no one should live to be a virgin after the age of forty. Right then they went out, found some woman, and in one night they lost their virginity and founded one of the most elite secret societies. Its called "The super secret Anti-Virgin League", which is broken into a few groups. The high council, who run and fund the organization, they are the founders or the replacement for the founders of the organization, there is also the Intel unit whose job it is to track and monitor virgins, they basically function as a high tech Sanata, keeping a list of everybody that has not been naughty. There is also the regulars, who are simple people who support the cause and do there bit by having sex with a virgin, some of these people don't even know they are part of the League, despite there membership. Finally we have the Deflowering Squad. An elite unit of agents whose job is to identify and deflower virgins. Yes thats right, they are basically sex ninjas. They infiltrate the lives of virgins, seduce them and facilitate deflowering penetration for the target.

My name is Candy and I am a member of the Deflowering Squad.

"Good morning Tim," I cast a seductive grin at the Receptionist at the front desk.

"Mornin' Miss Candy," replies as his gaze follows me along the marble floor as I walk to the elevator. I ride it up alone and get into the office. I head to the kitchen. I see there is coffee made, perfect. I grab a cup and head to my desk. Time for work. Check the email, a few good jokes, and news of a Urgent Briefing. I finsh the coffee and head to the briefing room.

Looks like Intel turned up a emergency, and time was short, and they called in a specialist.

"Basically we need a miracle," declared Max, my boss giving me the briefing.
He continued, "We have two days before he turns 41, I dont want another failure, Jones was the last failure in '79 and I wont have that on my watch. How can we get this guy. He does nothing but play WoW all day long. He has no real life social contact outside his house. An absolute recluse."

Max was right, we were in a tight bind. But I figured a way out. "Look Max, its simple. This guy plays WoW all the time. He's gotta be on something. We find his hookup and get an intro that way. See what you can turn up I am gonna go get ready."

I went to the wardrobe section and picked out a new outfit, and did my makeup and when I returned we were in business.

The target is a teahead. His hookup is a fellow gamer and he comes over everyday to drop of some tea and chill for a bit. The hookup was the inn.

I walked into the arcade, and scanned the scene. Pimple faced teens driving, shooting, skiing. Sexy Asian girls playing DDR. Kids running around everywhere, high on caffeine and god knows what they picked up on the street, supercharged with rebellion and sex, riding the greatest wave of their lives.

I saw him in the back, with the old school machines. I walked up behind him, "Your not bad at Street Fighter."

He spun around, his blond hair spayed across his face obscuring his eyes, his faded Nirvana t shirt suggested a grunge flair, while the pressed Khaki's gave a neat casual look. His blue eyes emerged from his hair, searching me. The headphones around his neck now pointing towards me offered me the distinctive tune of Death From Above. He leaned back against the machine, resting on his backpack. His red lips moved, "I'm Mike, you any good?"

I stepped up to the challenge. "Lets find out."

I won. I had his attention now, well more so that when he first saw me.

We sat and chatted. I confirmed the Intel, that he would be heading to the targets house later and invited myself along. Without much protest, we past the time then headed for the mark.

We arrived, and introductions were made. James wore an AMD t shirt with a gruff exterior, and a lovable bear build, and despite being a Dorito munching WoW addict, his place was clean, adorned with action figures and Star Wars posters.

I sat next to the mark, and we smoked some pot, and started watching Hackers.

First I complained of cold and got a blanket. Then I insited on sharing it with the mark and snuggled up even closer. Mike clued in on cue, and excused himself from the apartment, and I homed in on the mark.

I figured he was too nervous to start anything, so I would lead. I slipped my glasses off, and leaned forwards to him, pressing my body on his starting the handshake.

Syn: I kissed him.
Syn: My tongue slipped in his mouth floating through it.
Syn: He kissed me.
Syn: His tongue charged forward, penetrating my mouth surging forward with exuberance.
Our lips locked and our tongues danced, and we swapped packets of love.
Ack: I moaned as pleasure surged through my body.
Ack: He pulled me closer, message received and understood.

Almost as if a surge of 50000 volts were flowing between us, did the passion flow in a steady stream. His hands moved from my hair to my body, his hands flowing across me.

My tight plain t shirt encapsulating my breasts flew off me, his flew off as well, along with a pair of shorts and a skirt, landing all over the room.

Our bodies connected, in a moment of bliss, objective completed. The television cast a faint glow through the smoke in the air onto our gleaming bodies into the night.

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