The characters from The Incredibles don't belong to me. They belong to Pixar Animation Studios (who in turn belong to the home of the Mouse, Walt Disney Pictures). Nor do I own the characters from Heroes, they belong to Tim Kring and Tailwind Productions. I'm just borrowing them and muddling them up

Heroes/Incredibles: Heroines Part 8 - The Third Date (FF)
by LL

Rick Dicker, National Superhero's Agency, sipped his tea from a china mug. He had the face of a particularly stupid bloodhound, but few people underestimated him twice and those that did were regarded by his fellow NSA agents as the dumbest of the dumb. His background was Ivy League, Vietnam Special Ops with the Green Berets before the NSA had recruited him from NASA, where he was overseeing their Space Security Programme. He might talk slowly and ponderously, but it concealed a fast moving brain and a body at the extreme limits of athleticism. If he wasn't a superhero himself, he was the next big thing.

Helen Parr never underestimated Rick, but luckily she didn't need to worry - having known him for close to twenty years. If Edna Mode regarded Helen as a daughter, Rick saw her as a younger sister. She smiled as he sipped at his tea, one sugar, a touch of milk - just the way he always liked it. He still seemed uncomfortable and worried. She waited for him to speak. Eventually he put down the cup, carefully in the middle of the saucer.

"You put in for a licence to return as Elastigirl?" Rick phrased it as a question, though it obviously wasn't.

"Yes," replied Helen. She leant forward and refilled Rick's cup.

He picked it up, sipping at the tea before placing it down again, "Can I ask why? A couple of years ago you were vehement that you were retiring..."

"A couple of years ago my husband and son had just been killed. I thought the NSA could do it's own dirty work," she snapped. Rick looked at her dispassionately and she blushed, "I'm sorry."

He slowly nodded, "That's alright. So it's nothing to do with Mirage escaping then?"

Helen blushed red, she had known the NSA Agent so long he could almost see into her. It was no use denying it, so the best option was defiance, "And why not? She may want revenge - I've got Vi and Jack-Jack to worry about."

Rick looked sympathetic, "I've come to tell you the NSA is declining to give you a licence."

"Right," Helen forced herself to smile, without a licence any use of superpowers, apart from in life threatening emergencies, would be illegal and the Government cracked down heavily on rogue supers. However, Rick hadn't needed to come to see her personally, normally these things would have been handled by an official, but impersonal letter. She appreciated that, "Why?"

The Agent paused again, "A number of reasons - you're past forty, you've been out of the game too long and you'll be rusty. But the main reason is that the Agency will track down Mirage - we're worried you are too close to act professionally," he stood up and reached for his coat, "My advice - forget it, enjoy your pension."

"Thanks," said Helen.

"No bother," replied Rick. He looked at his watch, "I'd stay, but I've got another appointment."

* * *

"So have you fucked Sandra Bennet yet?" asked Mirage in what was supposed to be an innocent tone, but in which a streak of competitive vindictiveness couldn't help emerge.

"No," blushed Elle and looked at the wall so she wouldn't see Mirage's smirking face and be tempted to punch it.

"Why not?" any trace of this being a purely innocent question had gone, to be replaced by a mocking tone, "I thought you'd have nailed her first date. What's the one tonight - the third?"

"Sandra's a lady," replied Elle, she clenched her fist and unclenched it, feeling the electricity coil between her fingers. She looked up at Mirage and allowed the other to see the sparks that shot from her fingertips, "She's not one of your cheap whores."

"Would the two of you stop bickering," the Mistress said icily. She turned round and glared at her two minions. Elle and Mirage dropped their heads and looked down at the floor, their feet shuffling uncomfortably. The lift door opened and the Mistress stepped out into a white antiseptic corridor, with all the personality of a blank writing pad. She turned back to Elle and Mirage, "Our new secret base."

"Great," said Elle with her best acting skills.

Not to be outdone, Mirage nodded, "Fantastic."

Whether the Mistress believed them she didn't say. Instead she walked down the corridor into the reception. Behind the counter sat the missing cheerleader Chastity Church emotionless as she typed into a computer. Behind her stood three young women in cheerleader uniforms, their faces so blank that either the cliche about cheerleaders lacking any form of human intelligence was true or more likely they were victims of the Mistress's mind-control bracelets. The Mistress walked up to the desk and waited whilst Charity printed a couple of plastic badges, which she slid across to the Mistress. The Mistress picked them up and passed them to the two young women behind her, "Wear these at all times."

"What happens if we don't wear them?" asked Mirage as she pinned hers to her lapel - she had no desire to find out...unluckily.

"Pass it here," replied the Mistress, beckoning with her finger. Mirage cursed inwardly, as much at the smug look on Elle's face, as from what was likely to be a painful demonstration. Still she complied, not doing so would likely be even more painful as well as life threatening. The demonstration would at least be safe; she guessed the Mistress hadn't gone to all the trouble of springing her from jail just to kill her for asking stupid questions - she hoped.

The Mistress pocketed the pass and pointed to the door out of reception, "If you could open that Mirage."

Mirage grimaced, walked to the door and pushed. Above her a siren started screeching and the three cheerleaders changed from blank dummies into snarling and spitting whirlwinds of destruction. Mirage was fast and stronger than she looked, fast enough that she managed to kick the blonde cheerleader in the stomach sending her flying back, elbow the Hispanic cheerleader so that she too fell down and block the blows from the brunette before knocking her feet away.

But the three cheerleaders were up in second and launching themselves again. Mirage again took down the blonde, but this time the Hispanic and brunette were on her before she could recover. The three of them collapsed in a tangle of blows and if Mirage got two in for everyone she received the cheerleaders seemed impervious.

Suddenly the Mistress clapped her hands, "Alice, Savannah, Marti - back to your positions."

The three cheerleaders jumped up, their faces returning to blankness as they returned to their positions. Mirage waited until they were back before standing up and taking the security pass the Mistress proffered her. She pinned it on her lapel, "I'll make sure I wear it."

* * *

"Thank you, Mrs Bennet. See you next year," said Rick Dicker, "Enjoy your date to..."

The door closed before he could finish speaking. Rick didn't take it personally, he had been married thirty years give or take a couple and the one thing he'd learnt is that a woman going out to dinner can never spend too much time preparing. He shrugged as he went to his car, Sandra had been a widow a long time - twelve years since Noah had died in the line of duty - she was entitled to some fun.

Opening his car door Rick opened the glove compartment and pulled out his laptop. At a flick of a button a side panel opened. He pulled the vial of yellow liquid from his pocket and slid it in. The machine gave a hum as it started to analyse it. Rick started the car, it would take a few minutes for the machine to tell him anything about Claire Bennet's urine. As he drove away Rick wondered if Sandra suspected anything, he didn't think Claire did - the teen just accepted that this was part of her Dad's company health insurance which after is death was still provided to his wife and children. But Sandra must realise that taken yearly urine samples wasn't normal procedure and Rick didn't know how much over the years Noah had told his wife.

The computer beeped, the analysis complete. Rick pulled into a lay-by and looked at the screen. He frowned briefly and picked up the laptop and began to type.

* * *

"Analysis of the urine confirms Claire Bennet (subject CB X187) has developed superhero abilities. Further analysis will need to be conducted in NSA labs, but preliminary findings suggest that her ability includes, but is not necessarily limited too, extra-ordinary recuperative powers..." the Mistress looked up from the computer and at her two minions, "You'd think the NSA would have better anti-hacking software..."

"No software would be able to stop you," brown-nosed Mirage before Elle could open her mouth to say something similar.

"Mmnnn," acknowledged the Mistress as she continued to read Rick Dicker's transcript as she typed it. Suddenly her eyebrow's raised in surprise before she turned accusingly to Elle and Mirage, "Did you know Elastigirl lives in town as well?"

Elle and Mirage looked at each other, each hoping the other was going to speak first. As Elle looked like she had been struck dumb and Mirage had the closest association with the ex-superheroine it was left to the tanned blonde to say, "We did say Helen Parr lived here..."

"And you didn't think to also mention that this Helen Parr was also Elastigirl?" the Mistress's voice was icy with sarcasm. Again Elle and Mirage looked at each other. Both unilaterally decided that this wasn't a question they could win by answering and the best tactic was to look suitably chastised whilst mentally making a note to have a quiet word later with the Mistress and blame the other for the oversight. The Mistress watched their uncomfortable silence for a moment and then she spoke again, "And would this mean that Vi Parr is Helen's daughter?"

Before Mirage had a chance to lapse into deep silence Elle shoved her so that she tottered forward and directly into the Mistress's gaze. The arch-villain looked at her, "Well?"

Mirage darted a quick look of pure hatred at Elle, who gave her an innocent shrug in reply, before turning to her Mistress and saying doubtfully, "I suppose?"

"You suppose?" the Mistress's tone was so frosty that there were almost icicles forming on the edge of her nose.

"Yes, it is," Elle quickly interrupted, she was about as sure as Mirage was, ie not at all, but fortune (or rather the Mistress) favoured the brave, "Mom and daughter are the Parrs."

The Mistress nodded and rewarded Elle with a smile, even if Mirage gave her a scowl. The Mistress stood up and moved away from the computer, "Good Elle, Mirage take a lesson from Elle, decisive, intelligent guesswork, a lying little toad perhaps, but saying exactly what I want to hear... which is why she's banging Sandra Bennet and not you."

"Or not banging Sandra Bennet," Elle's preening of herself was interrupted Mirage sotto voce just loud enough for Elle to hear.

Or a bit too loud as the Mistress heard as well. She looked at Mirage for a moment and then smiled, "Yes, or not banging Sandra. I think it's about time you moved the relationship to another level Elle."

"Yes, Mistress," agreed Elle, "What do you want us to do about Helen Parr? Kill her?"

The Mistress paused for a moment as if thinking, "No, not yet. Leave Elastigirl and her daughter alone... for now."

* * *

"That was a lovely meal," Elle smiled at Sandra Bennet.

"I'm glad you enjoyed it," replied Sandra. It had been expensive, but it was nice to hit a gourmet restaurant every now and then, especially as neither Claire or Lyle appreciated any meal without lashings of sauce and fries. She reached out her hand and Elle took it as they walked down the near deserted street.

For a few moments they drifted aimlessly, before Elle smilingly said, "I'll walk you to your car."

"Thanks, that'll be nice," Sandra said, she didn't quiet grit her teeth as she said it, but it was close. It wasn't that the relationship was going badly, indeed the opposite was probably true. Elle was amusing, intelligent, sophisticated, but with an endearing youthful brashness, but she was also too much a lady. In the years since Noah had been killed in the line of duty Sandra hadn't dated much, two school age children were a crimp in any relationship. But even with her hazy memories of dating she remembered sex being part of it.

It seemed, unfortunately, that Elle thought that holding hands and a light kiss at the end of the evening was enough. Not that Sandra hadn't hinted that she wanted the relationship to go further, her dinner conversation was sexually charged and she continually fingered her long blonde hair seductively as she had leant forward so that her tits strained at her expensive dress. Reluctantly Sandra was coming to the conclusion that this was as far as they were going to run - it didn't surprise her she had, being charitable, at least a dozen years on the younger woman.

They walked past the town park, the Gates were open, but at this time of night the only inhabitants were a few owls, crickets and insomniac rabbits. Elle paused and looked down the park, in the distance a few trees rustled in darkness and the moon glinted off the water in the (switched-off) fountain, "Do you want to have a walk through the park? It's still early."

Sandra paused. Normally she'd have been more than happy for a romantic walk in the park, but she still held a slim vestige of hope that when they got to the car that Elle would suggest they drive to her place for a 'coffee'. If they went for a walk it would be too late to do that and get home before Claire returned to the club she was going to with Jackie. Elle misunderstood the silence and gave Sandra's hand a quick squeeze before giving her a reassuring smile, "It's not Buffy the Vampire Slayer - we're not going to be attacked by demons if we walk away from the light."

Sandra smiled, whilst she had briefly heard of the blonde Slayer Claire and Lyle had been too young to watch it and Sandra hadn't had the time to watch more than one or two episodes. In those she watched she'd decided that Sarah Michelle Gellar was fuckable, with more than a passing resemblance to what she imagined a teenaged Elle would have looked like. Unfortunately she agreed that no vampires were going to jump out leading to Elle having to defend her before making out with her against a tree. Still as Elle had said it was early; she might as well being walking hand in hand with an attractive twentysomething as sitting at home doing the crossword whilst waiting for Claire. She smiled, "Go on."

They entered the park and walked through. It didn't take long for the town's lights to become pinpricks in the darkness and the moon, with the stars in support, to be the only illumination. They walked to the far end of the park and found a bench, behind them the trees leant in the darkness, their shapes and shadows could be seen as either as the background for a romantic film or a horror depending on the mood. Luckily Elle was in the mood for the former, "It's lovely here."

"Yes," agreed Sandra, squeezing Elle's hand, "It is."

She waited for Elle to say something, but blonde remained quiet for a few moments, just looking across the silvery landscape. After perhaps a minute she turned back to face Sandra, "You are beautiful..."

Sandra didn't have time to reply before Elle's lips were touching hers. This is more like it, thought the Milf as she opened her mouth in reply. The two of them moved their lips in unison, slipping and sliding their tongues through the moistness of the other's mouth. They were so close their faces collided, their noses brushing against each other as their tongues slid in. With one hand Elle continued to squeeze Sandra's hand, but the other was sliding up the Milf's waist, diagonally up and across her stomach to rest on her titty. Sandra's stomach started to do flip-flops of excitement as Elle started to squeeze at it through the material. The Milf began to tongue her date more passionately, if she couldn't talk without breaking the kiss there were other ways to show her appreciation.

She would certainly have gasped, if she'd been able, at Elle's next move. The twentysomething pulled down the material of the dress and slid Sandra's tit out over the top. Her fingers kneaded the naked flesh and Sandra was glad that this dress didn't go well with a bra. Their lips and tongues moved quicker and pushed deeper as Elle griped and fondled the naked tit.

Suddenly the younger woman let go off Sandra's bosom, but the Milf had no time to think before Elle's mouth was off hers and down suckling and licking at the nipple. Sandra gasped in pleasure as Elle's teeth tenderly tightened on the teat, the tip of tongue tantalising teasing it as well. Sandra closed her eyes and moaned, "Oh, that's so good, yes, yes, yes..."

The hand that had been on her Sandra's tit had moved to her lap. It only stayed there for a few moments before Elle moved it again. This time, under the hem of Sandra's dress and slowly up her thighs. Sandra gasped with pleasure as the palm slid along her pale flesh, untouched by anyone but her for so long. Elle paused when she got to the Milf's panties, but only for a moment. A finger snaked under the cotton and slid across the older blonde's quim lips. Sandra tensed with pleasure and groaned, "Oh baby, that's it baby, stick it in me."

Elle's face moved away from the tit as she looked up into Sandra's eyes and licked a touch of saliva from her lips. Her face shone as she smiled, "I want to see your face."

Gently she pushed the finger into Sandra. The Milf groaned and tensed as the digit slid down into her slit. Slowly, but sensually, Elle began to move it round the hole. Her nail scraped at the warm, moist wall of the cunt, stimulating the nerve endings and sending little flurries of sexual excitement bouncing through Sandra. She felt cum forming in her twat, seeping from her walls and soaking Elle's finger as the younger blonde continued to explore the older woman's pussy.

"Oh, that's the spot..." Sandra purred as Elle found her spot. There was a pause. For Sandra the waiting seemed to be an age, she could feel the nail lightly scratching her clit, but no movement apart from rhythmic breathing. Even Elle's face seemed solid and unmoving, her eyes fixed on Sandra's, seeming to drink in the older woman's sexual essence. Sandra licked her lips and waited, the excitement growing within her - Elle was such a tease.

"Like this?" Elle's lips curled in a smiled as she pushed her finger in hard. The squeal from Sandra acted as an answer and Elle began to hammer the clit mercilessly. More juice filled the cunt, Elle's finger drove through it. The cum seeped out of the cunt and soaked against the older woman's panties. Sandra didn't mind - all she could feel was Elle's digit slamming her into orgasm and all she could see was the younger blonde's beautiful face. On it was an entranced expression as Elle watched Sandra's face relax and tense, contort and blank as the feelings rushed through her. In a husky voice Elle said, "Oh Sandra, enjoying this?"

"Yesss, yesss," squeaked Sandra, her spine bending and stretching as her body shook under the orgasms flooding it, "Yesss, yesss."

Harder and harder Elle rammed, sending Sandra into a delighted bliss. Orgasms poured into the older woman, each one rushing and pushing away the remains of the last. Her twat was soaked, so wet that not only were her panties translucent, but the liquid had gone through them and left a patch on her dress. She gasped and bucked as she orgasmed again, "Yes, oh yesssss."

Elle pulled the finger out. Cum dripped from it as she moved it to her mouth and slowly licked it dry, her tongue seductively moving over the flesh in such a way that Sandra almost came without being touched, "I'm glad you enjoyed it."

"Oh," murmured Sandra, her mind still blown by the orgasms, "So much..."

Elle licked her finger again, though she had already cleaned it and gave Sandra a naughty smile; "I'll go down on you if you want."

At this moment in time there was nothing that Sandra could think that she wanted more. She sat back against the bench and helped Elle hoist her dress to the belly. That done she lifted her legs and allowed Elle to remove the soaked panties. Elle held them for a second as she looked at the stained front and then slid them into her bag. She grinned at Sandra again, "You only get those back if you agree to another date..."

If Elle licked as good as she fingered Sandra knew she'd be clamouring for another date, whether the panties were returned or not. She gave a smile back and moved her fingers over her pussy, enticingly opening it between them, "It depends what else would be on offer..."

"I'll give you a taste, if you give me a taste," Elle got to her knees. Her own dress rode up her thighs so that her knees were on bare concrete, but she didn't seem to mind.

Sandra gasped as Elle's tongue pushed deep into her hole. The younger woman's hands moved and pushed Sandra's thighs wider, allowing her more room to bury herself. Elle tongue lapped at the juice, running her tongue round the hole as she relocated the clit.

"Oh God, yesss, yesss," shrieked Sandra as Elle found her G-spot. The younger blonde hammered her tongue home, licking and pushing at the bud. More cum flooded from Milf's cunt, onto Elle's tongue and down her throat. It slid like syrup, easy and tasty. Sandra squeaked again as Elle continued to stimulate her clit. Reaching out she gripped the other's head, running her hand through the long blonde strands, "That's it baby, eat me, eat me all up."

Slurping sounds drowned out the chirp of crickets and the rustle of trees. The slurps merging with Sandra's cries in a sexual melody that left the wise old owls in no doubt what was happening beneath them. Sandra's back arched and her skin prickled with thousands of little pins of pleasure, "Oh God, you do things to me...aaarrrrrghhhh."

The orgasm washed through Sandra curling her from her toes to her hair. Her body exploded into a million pieces, before returning together in a blazing glorious flame, "Fuuuuuccckkk, aaaaaaarrrrrghhhhh."

Elle withdrew her face, the Milf's cum leaking from her mouth, "I guess I get another date," she teased.

The answer to that was so obviously as 'yes' that all Sandra could do was gasp weakly.

* * *

The club had been heaving with dancing lesbians, all sweaty with their clothes clinging tightly to their taut bodies. That was why it had taken Claire so long to wander round the club several times, just to see if Elle was there - the heaving business, not the sweaty sexiness Elle told herself. Even if the mixture of perfume and sweat was alluring and the way the bodies moved, all grace and sensuality was as appealing. No, Claire reminded herself, that wasn't the reason why she'd been here so long.

"Want to dance?" the woman was cute black in her late twenties.

Claire blushed and shook her head. The woman shrugged gracefully and slipped back into the crowd. She had been the third person to ask Claire to dance in last thirty minutes; the same number had been turned down by the blonde cheerleader. It was time to go, decided Claire, she'd chalk down Elle to experience - either the woman had deliberately lied to her or Claire had taken her number down wrongly. Which was which didn't matter - she would always remember her first pussy lick, though God knew when she would work up the courage to come here again to try and give a second.

She headed to the entrance, looking at her watch. Her Mom wasn't likely to be home for a couple of hours yet, it gave Claire time to go to a normal bar where if she wasn't likely to get a pick-up she could at least get some alcohol on her breath. Her Mom thought she was out clubbing with her best friend Jackie who in turn thought she was blowing a married man in a back town car-park. Her Mom would expect her breath to stink of alcohol, despite stern injunctions she wasn't supposed to drink, but it was better to be lectured for drinking underage than for hanging round lesbian bars.

She walked out, the night was warm, but after the stifling, sweaty heat of inside it was like the arctic. But Claire had barely time to feel the temperature before she accidentally bumped into someone. She stepped back, "Sorry... Jackie!"

Jackie Wilcox looked at the neon sign above the door, a woman spreading her legs as another bent between them, and back down to her best friend. Her voice was filled with shock as she replied, "Claire!"
_ _ _

If you have comments on this or any others of my stories please e-mail me at: [email protected]


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