Disclaimer: This is not merely fiction but a work of fiction about fictional
characters, cartoons no less, so if it offends you, well, go away and don't
read it.

Codes: mf, m-mast, inter, f-dom (mild), first

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Fillmore: Ingrid Third's First
by Tricksterson

Cornelius Fillmore and his partner, Ingrid Third stood in fornt of their
boss, Junior Commander Vallejo, filthy, stained and smelly but also
untimately triumphant. Their pursuit of the Back Pack Bandit had taken them
through a cafeteria food fight, instigated by the Bandit, one Julia Shwartz,
as a delaying tactic, then they'd had to dig her out of the dumpster where
she'd hidden. Normally their squadmates would be crowding around to offer
congratulations but this time there was a wide circle around them and the
congratulations came from a distance.

"Can we go clean up?" asked Fillmore.

"Consider it a direct order," replied Vallejo.

"Don't do that," interjected Ingrid. "He'll consider it a moral obligation
to stay filthy." Her partner's predeliction for bending the rules to the
breaking point and considering orders to be optional extras was notorious.

"Not this time," her partner said. "Let's hit the showers."

* * *

Fillmore sighed as the hot water washed away the last of the filth and
stink away from his skin. His clothes were in the sports team laundry room's
washing machine. He knew that Ingrid was in the girl's shower and his mind
drifted to thoughts of what she might look like naked in the shower. He felt
himself harden, a sensation relatively new to him but one that had been
happening with increasing frequency recently, especially around Ingrid. He
closed his eyes, leaned against the back wall and started stroking his meat,
a rather impressive length for a thirteen year old, as images of Ingrid
floated through his head, her big green eyes and short dark hair, her coltish
legs and developing curves, the short black dress she habitually wore and the
tantalizing flashes of thigh and panty it often revealed as they chased down
a suspect. The truth was that he'd had a crush on his partner for nearly as
long as he'd known her, but the same job that had brought and kept them
together also kept him from doing anyth ing about it.

He stroked faster as climax approached and the images in his head became
ever more vivid and imaginative. He couldn't actually know what Ingrid's
lips would taste like or her tiny breasts feel like in his hands but his
imaginative mind filled in the details. As he came his entire body felt
filled and emptied at the same time and his hips thrust repetitively and
automatically into the air, his sperm spaterring on the walls and floor,
only to be washed down the drain.

* * *

He entered the laundry room, only a towel around his waist to find his
clothes done but the drier occupied by Ingrid's clothes. Since they were done
as well he started to take them out and was quickly distracted by the fact
that not only her dress but her underwear was in the drier as well. He found
himself holding up her miniscule bra for examination, rubbing it between his
fingers and checking it for size, AA as it turned out. After that he picked
up her panties and couldn't resist holding them up to his face and taking a
long sniff.


Fillmore jumped two feet in the air and came down facing Ingrid who, as it
turned out, was also wearing nothing but a towel.. A towel that, even though
it technically covered almost as much of her body as her dress did, seemed to
leave her functionally naked in the way it clung to her still damp thirteen
year old body.

His skin color made it impossible for Fillmore to blush but his face, indeed
his whole body, *felt* red nevertheless. Wordlessly he handed the panties
over to his partner.

"I think you owe me," Ingrid said. He nodded.

"Name it."

"Take off the towel."

"Huh?" he said, not too brightly.

"You said name it and I did. Take off the towel. I've never seen one and I
want to see what yours is like. Besides if you show me yours," she said with
a mischievious look, "I just might show you mine. That was all it took. The
towel hit the floor. She came forward and got down on one knee to examine his
member. Her warm breath on it started to bring it to erection. Her warm hand
on it finished the job, especially when that hand moved to his balls.

"Oh my," was her impressed reaction "You like me touching it, Fillmore?"


"It feels...interesting. Would you like me to find out how it tastes?"

"Uhhuh," he said, jaw dropping and tongue unconciously hanging out.

"Maybe later," she said with a smile as she got up, picked up the rest of her
clothes and started to walk out of the room.

"Hey! You said..."

"I said I might and I didn't say when." She said over her shoulder then, as
she reached the door, turned around to face him again. "My house, Saturday,
noonish, my parents will be out," then left, leaving him frustrated and

* * *

He walked up to the front door of Ingrid's house raised his hand to the door
bell then turned around and walked back to the sidewalk before turning around
and repeating the process. He did this three times before the door opened and
he was face to face with his partner.

"Well? Are you coming in or am I going to die of old age first?" All he could
do was stare. She wasn't wearing her usual black dress but a bathrobe. A pink
one no less. With, as far as he could tell, nothing underneath.

"Come in," she said, then led him up to her room, which was decorated in
Goth-Nerd Chic. She flopped down on the bed. He could see as the bathrobe
parted that she did indeed have one item of clothing on, a pair of bikini
cut gold lame panties. Led by his cock he had no choice but to enter the

"You want to see mine?" He just nodded. "First, show me yours again." As she
said this her fingers were playing with the elastic of her panties, pushing
it tantalizingly downward, then pulling it up, rolling it down then back. He
was more then happy to drop his pants and drawers because his dick felt like
it was going to bust a hole in them anyway.

"Nice, very nice. Now I'll show you mine...wait." She smiled teasingly. Why
don't you come here and take them off yourself?" As she said this she moved
to a sitting position on the edge of the bed and spread her slender legs.

In order to reach them, Fillmore had to kneel down, putting his face level
with her crotch. As he reached out and slowly rolled them down her thighs he
could help noticing how soft, how smooth her skin was. He'd never realized
how *good* touching her felt before. Was he *drooling*?

Evidently as, after her panties were on the floor, Ingrid reached out and
wiped his mouth then rubbed the spit on her already glistening pussy.

"Lick it." she said sternly,

"Lick what?"

"My slit! It's burning! It wants your tongue to sooth it." Not all of
Ingrid's voracious reading concerned science and current affairs. She'd
helped confiscate more than one porn magazine and dirty book and gotten a
lot of ideas from them.

Cornelius moved his head cautiously between his partner's legs and sniffed.
It wasn't as foul as he'd thought it would be. Musky but kinda nice too.

"Come ON!" Ingrid urged. "It's not going to bite!"

Cornelius took a tentative lick, then another. Didn't taste bad either. Soon
his tongue was moving up and down and then he pushed it inward.

"Mmmm, yeah! Mooore!" she screamed and put her hands on his head to push
him deeper into herself. Both encouraged and turned on by her response he
proceeded to give her a thorough if somewhat inexpert tonguefucking. Since
she had no practical experience to judge him by she didn't care, wrapping
her legs around his neck and shoulders and arching her back as she came.

"OHHHHHHHYESSSSSSS!!! thart's soooofuckingbeautiful!!!"

As she regained awareness and her eyes focused she motioned him up onto the
bed and positioned him laying down.

"Your turn now," she panted and slid her mouth down onto his rigid rod. Like
him she had more enthusiasm than skill but enthusiasm mad up for a lot as she
applied the suction and caressed his testicles. Soon he was on the verge of

"Ingrid," he warned her, "I'm gonna, gonna ohhhhhh!" and soon her mouth was
flooded with white goo. She pulled back and let the excess spew over her face
and chest then rubbed it into her skin. Seeing that his erection hadn't gone
away she applied her tongue and licked his dark pole clean then reached into
her drawer and pulled out a condom package.

"What's that for?" Cornelius asked as she opened the package and slid the
contents down over his cock.

"For not having babies."

"Oh. That's definitely a good thing."

She pressed his member against her pussylips, closed her eyes and sighed.
She'd wanted this, or something like it, ever since she'd become partners
with the brash young stud, although she'd been vague on the details at
first. But she also knew it was going to hurt. She positioned herself over
his cock pushed the head between her labia and then let gravity do the work.
She grimaced as the barrier of her hymen was broken.

"Are you okay?" asked Fillmore. The truth was that although he wanted to care
it was hard to. The feel of her vagina artound his dick was indescribable he
gasped at the sensation and started instinctively to thrust upward.

"Wait! Let me...let me get used to having you in me." He wanted nothing more
than to continue thrusting but restrained himself, barely. Fortunately it
didn't take long for the pain to recede and she was soon moving up and down
his member, eyes closed, a look of ecstacy on her face.

"Uh...uh...UNNNHHHHH! Yeah! Fuck me Cornie! Fuck me hard!" His hands gripped
her hips as she rode him, his own face contorted with pleasure. Finally he
grunted as he came while she arched backward so far her short hair almost
tuched her ass.

"So," he asked afterward, his hands roaming slowly over her tight little
body, "What does this mean for partners I mean?"

"Nothing but good things," she murmered reasurringly, kissing his chest.


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