Neon Genesis Evangelion Fan Fiction ❯ Climacteric ❯ Chapter 1 ( Chapter 1 )

[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]

Climacteric

Adam Kadmon

Disclaimer: I do not own Evangelion

Warning: I'm off my meds. That means it is lemon time.

Warning 2: good lord this is a long one. No pun intended. Grab a sandwich along with that wad of Kleenex.

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Goddamn it I'm hot.

Asuka gazed at her reflection in the mirror perched above her bureau, twisting and turning to catch all angles of her perfection. She was wearing her favorite sundress, the one that gave credit to all her curves without making her look slutty. It was like a bright yellow billboard declaring to all the males of the world that you can look, but you can never touch. The faces men wore when she passed them by on the street, that unrestrained visage of agonized longing and amazed disbelief, was elixir to her. Her beauty gave her power over those stupid, dirty little boys and Asuka would not, could not, argue otherwise. It would be a crime against God to not use her natural abilities to their fullest extent. And if that meant manipulating and torturing every male that crossed her path, then so be it.

She twirled around again, ensuring the absolute flawlessness of every possible viewpoint on her body, and smiled happily.

Well, smirked.

She had somehow let Hikari talk her into yet another date with some anonymous male creature; this time the lucky candidate was the brunette's cousin, a sixteen-year-old soccer player. Which meant he'd at least be in shape. But even if he turned out to be gorgeous, and interesting, and brilliant, and hilarious, Asuka couldn't help but be assured she'd be completely disappointed with whatever met her.

Boys were, by definition, boring. And by boring she meant stupid, uninformed, immature, perverted, lame, brain-dead, dull, weird, smelly, gross, stupid, perverted, stupid, and perverted. Not necessarily in that order.

But the fact remained that Asuka was wasted on them. Her beauty, intelligence, sophistication, skill and maturity all marked her as beyond their narrow world of petty concerns and childish antics. She was an adult, and deserved an adult partner. Like, oh, she didn't know, off the top of her head, Kaji Ryouji. Just for example. He was a perfect match.

The only reason she agreed to Hikari's desperate plea was to maintain the fragile string of friendship between the two of them, and to get out of the house once in a while. The additional factor of flaunting her superiority in public was of little concern.

Asuka spun away from the mirror humming a tuneless song and fished a small box out from under her bed. Taking a quick peek over her shoulder to ensure she was alone, she slowly opened the lid and pulled out a bottle of Misato's perfume. It wasn't the lavender scent, that damn woman kept that one hidden, but it was enough to give any unsuspecting guy a heady whiff of submissiveness. Asuka had discovered smelling good was a surprisingly effective way to control boys.

She splashed a few shakes on her wrists and neck then carefully replaced the bottle under her bed. She inhaled the lacy scent of rain and lilac, and grinned. She wouldn't be paying for anything tonight.

Asuka strolled out of her room, picking up her purse from her bureau on the way out, and glanced at the clock on the wall. She was already late, but she'd be damned before she ever waited for a boy. Let the little twerp sweat it out for a while.

She passed by her two roommates sitting on the couch, Misato leisurely nursing a beer and half-watching the television, and Shinji reading a book. Asuka rolled her eyes.

“So,” she drawled, “what thrilling and stimulating night do you two have planned?”

“Eh, I don't know,” Misato muttered over her drink. “Probably just watch a movie or something.”

“What exciting lives you lead. If you really want to squander your fleeting time on earth getting plastered and staring at the idiot box, fine. Just don't expect me to clean up your liquefied brains after they ooze out your ears.”

“Uh huh. I suppose you want me to ask what you're doing tonight.”

“I'm going on a date,” Asuka announced. She glanced at Shinji. Damn. He was still reading. She decided to get one final laugh in before leaving. She stuck her chest out and pushed her hips to the side. “How do I look?”

“German,” Misato answered without looking away from the TV.

“No,” the girl said, gritting her teeth. She quickly adopted what she believed was a seductive tone of voice. “I want a man's opinion. Shinji, I want to know what you think of my outfit.” She leaned down towards him, strategically wearing a seductive grin and letting her dress pool under her breasts. She was almost savoring the blush and apology that was sure to come spilling out.

“Hmm?” Shinji glanced up in her general direction. “I've already seen that.” He shrugged. “I guess, I don't know. It looks clean.” He turned back to his book. “Have a nice time.”

Asuka stood frozen in shock, staring at the back of the boy's head. She looked down at herself. He had to have seen her bra, at least! What the hell? Had Dr. Akagi neutered him during his last physical? Had the months of teasing finally desensitized him? Did he no longer find her… appealing?

But… I'm hot.

Asuka refused to let them know a sizable part of her worldly entertainment and ego boosting just crumbled to dust. Her mouth hung open, her eyes vainly searched the intricacies of his hair for an explanation. Minutes passed.

Misato finished her beer, tapping the bottom of the can with her forefinger. Her eyes fell on Asuka as she tilted her head back.

“You still here?” she asked.

“I'm… I'm…” Asuka snorted out a breath and shook her head. She glared at Shinji. “Idiot.” She cuffed him on the back of his head and headed to the door.

“Ow! What did I do?” He tenderly held the base of his skull. He glowered after Asuka, catching nothing but a flash of yellow as she slipped out the front door. “Geez.”

“You still don't know how to talk to women, do you?” Misato gave him a toothy grin. “I thought by now you would have picked up a few things.”

“Obviously not where it matters.” He rubbed his head. “What is her problem with me? She's always hitting me, or yelling at me, or hitting me…what did I do to deserve it?”

“Ah, the blissful ignorance of youth.” She chuckled. “I don't think it's a matter of what you did, so much as it is what you didn't do.”

“Like what? What am I supposed to do?”

“Well, I could tell you, and I'm certain Asuka would thank me, but I won't have pilots fraternizing with each other under my watch. It isn't conducive to saving the world.”

“Me… and Asuka!?” Shinji coughed up a laugh. “She'd kill me if I looked at her funny. Besides, just like you said, no fraternizing between pilots.” He smiled. “That works out just fine for me.”

“I bet it does,” Misato said through a grin.

They fell into a comfortable silence, staring at the blinking lights of the television.

“So,” Shinji said after a moment, turning to her. “Um, what movie did you want to watch?”

Misato smiled. He was still so damn innocent and trusting. It was cute.

She stretched quickly, then tackled Shinji to the couch.

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Roughly two weeks had passed since she first kissed him. It had been a light peck, nothing really, but they both still remembered it. For Shinji, it was his first taste of a woman. For Misato, it was almost like her innocence returned to her.

Forget the fact that she had been slightly tipsy, sleep deprived, and had more or less stolen his innocence, the sentiment was genuine.

She had been dreaming, the old dream that never left her. She was in the Antarctic, the sky filled with fury. Wings of light stabbing the heavens, a million points of deadly fire dancing in tuneless harmony above her. Blood on her face, in her hands. The scar, not yet a scar, dug deep into her body. The waves, running ridges of wet cold. The air, heavy. Her eyes, bleary with tears. Her voice, screaming.

Misato woke up with an aborted shriek, blindly grasping at the world as it used to be. Her hands clutched nothing but darkness and she slowly faded into waking reality. The nightmare wasn't new, but she hadn't suffered under its spell since Shinji moved in. It always preyed on her when she was alone. Knowing someone else was with her usually chased the bad thoughts away.

She left her room and groped along the wall to the kitchen. Beer seemed the easiest and quickest way to forget. Drown those horrors back down into her belly. She fished a can from the fridge and sat down heavily at the table. She felt like a sniveling child, crying in her sleep. She wanted those memories to be done with her.

“To happy childhoods,” she toasted the darkness.

“Bad dream?” Shinji asked.

Misato spit her beer out all over the floor.

“Shinji-kun!? Wh… How long were you there!?”

He rose from his seat against Pen Pen's refrigerator and sat at the table, sitting across from her.

“For an hour or so,” he said. His eyes were hardly open. He looked crushingly exhausted. “Sometimes the nightmares leave me alone if I get up for a little.”

“But… you were just here in the dark? Alone?” It struck her as incredibly sad.

“Well, I couldn't go anywhere else. And my bed isn't very inviting at the moment.”

“Oh.” Misato sipped at her drink. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“… not really. How about you?”

“No,” she said softly. She laughed once. “Quite a pair we make, huh? The only one sleeping soundly around here is the one who never shuts up.”

“Asuka has nightmares, too,” Shinji said, glancing away. “Just… she doesn't want anyone to know about them.” He tried to smile and failed. “Sort of like us, huh?”

“And here we spent all night making good memories.” They snuck out after dinner to attend a concert in the park. Not high on her list of leisure activities but it was something Shinji wanted. He recently played his cello for her, and Misato had to admit: musicians were hot. “I had fun tonight,” she told him. It wasn't a lie. She liked spending time with him.

“Me too.” He blushed a little in discomfort. He wasn't blind. He knew Misato could give two shits about classical music. But she still agreed to go with him. “Maybe next time you could choose what we do.”

Drinking, was her immediate thought. If only he was a little older. They could drink all they wanted in the privacy of the apartment, but she liked the atmosphere of a good bar. Even though it was convenient to get shit-faced in the comfort of your own home. She finished that thought by rising to fetch a fresh beer from the fridge.

Two cans later Misato found herself in a considerably better mood, and her tired, slushy mind equated Shinji's company as the cause. Another beer for confidence and she decided to show him her gratitude the only way she knew how.

“Thanks,” she said, just a little slurred. She got another beer.

She staggered back to the table, deciding to sit next to him this time. It was closer to the fridge, after all. She swayed a step then collapsed onto him, gently knocking their heads together. Shinji jumped a little as her shoulder came to rest against his neck, and her breast pushed on his cheek.

“Um… thanks for what?” he managed, trying to divert his attention from the all too nice pillow happily cushioning his face.

“For being you.”

“Oh. Okay.”

The considerable gap in age between them melted away in her alcohol-tinged vision until nothing but the difference in sex remained. He really was cute, she decided. She always thought so, but heavy drinking always intensified the notion. Or heavy drinking and his proximity.

And his age, his status as a pilot and her charge, everything blocking her desires at the moment bled away until nothing but the warmth in her belly remained to influence her thoughts and actions.

“I like you,” she slurred, pressing herself further against him.

Shinji's face exploded in a blush. No one ever told him that before. Not even his friends. He supposed it was understood, but to actually hear the sentiment, from anyone… this felt like heaven. He thought he might still be dreaming. His head swam in a warm mushy lake.

“Hee hee… you're so cute when you're all embarrassed like that,” Misato tittered, fingering one of his red cheeks. “I think that's why Asuka teases you all the time. I know it's why I do.”

“Misato-san, you're embarrassing me now.”

“Well that is the point, young man.” She grinned sloppily. “Do you want me to make it up to you? Maybe show I'm not teasing?”

“Ah…” Shinji's swallowed hard. Like trying to fit a prog knife down his throat. “How?”

He was expecting something like another outing of his choice, or some time off from his chores, or setting him up with a cute NERV employee. Lieutenant Ibuki always caught his eye the few times he saw her at the base.

The last thing he expected was for Misato to quickly lean over him and firmly press her lips to his.

Huh, Shinji thought. That was last thing I expected. Kind of appropriate. My first kiss is from a semi-conscious drunk girl. God damn it.

She sucked his upper lip into her mouth, then slowly drew away while kneading it between her front teeth letting the flesh stretch and pull, before finally releasing it and letting it snap back into place. She leaned away a breath to see him.

He stared at her with a slightly dismayed look on his face. Like she just tried to stab his puppy.

“What the—?”

“What?” Misato said in a huff. “Do you need another one?”

He kept staring. So she gave him another one.

Perhaps molesting his lips wasn't exactly “a light peck,” but to her it was hardly anything. Though Misato supposed it meant a bit more to Shinji. She wondered if she was his first kiss. It gave her a kind of conceited pride to think she was.

Ha! She beat Asuka and Rei to the prize! Take that, red and blue!

She spent the rest of the night, or the rest of the night she was conscious for, slowly kissing him, taking her time, like a leisurely stroll through the booze aisle at the market. She only tried to use her tongue once and quickly withdrew it after she felt him grimace at the overwhelming tang of beer and sleep in her mouth.

“I need a toothbrush,” she told him in a garbled voice.

The next thing she remembered was waking up face down on the kitchen table in a pool of saliva. She sat up and stretched, forcing herself to believe the quasi-make out session was just a dream and not a complete abandonment of her responsibilities and societal morals when Shinji approached from behind and said good morning.

“Oh, hey,” she said through a yawn. “Sleep well?” He looked totally worn out.

“Ah, not really. How about you?”

“I don't really know. I can't even remember how I wound up in the kitchen.”

“You don't?”

“Not really.”

“Really?”

“No.”

“Oh.”

“Shinji-kun?” Misato watched him shuffle off to the stove. She wasn't hung-over enough to miss the crushed look of disappointment he was wearing. “What's wrong?” Oh shit do not say what I think you're going to say. “Shinji-kun? Come on, tell me.” Don't tell me!

“Well, I, I just thought that after… after last night, I mean you…” He trailed off, mindlessly rearranging things on the counter. “You really don't remember anything?”

“Sh-should I remember something?”

“I…” Shinji turned and looked at her. His brow was drawn down together and he chewed absently on his lower lip. “I just… last night when you… when we at the kitchen table and… you know…”

He waited for his unclear, indistinct allusion to spur her memory and force her to fix everything. She stared vacantly at him. His shoulders fell in resignation.

“Never mind,” he finally said, and returned to the stove. He stayed silent, hoping she'd suddenly recall what happened, while he debated if he wanted her to say she liked it or it was a mistake. After three minutes of dead air his innate tension forced him to speak. “Ah, I, I actually did buy you a new toothbrush last time I was at the store. It's on the shelf next to the—”

“Aw, fuck me.”

“… excuse me?” Shinji stammered as he slowly turned around to look at her.

“I need a bath,” Misato hurriedly mumbled and sprinted to the bathroom, pushing a sleepy Asuka out of her way.

Fuck fuck fuck! She screamed at herself. What was I thinking!? I kissed him! I totally fucked up everything now! What the hell am I supposed to do!? What is he going to think!? That was completely out of the blue!

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It wasn't completely out of the blue. They'd been getting steadily closer since he moved in, to the point where they could both let their guards down a degree with each other. But as the Angel attacks became more frequent, their jobs more difficult, and of course the advent of Asuka's arrival, their quiet friendship was put to the wayside.

Shinji, as per his attitude regarding human contact, let it escape. But Misato wouldn't. She had finally found someone who accepted her the way she was, who didn't want to change her into a brainless housewife. Because she changed him into one first.

So the two began to secretly go out together. Not dating per say, simply time spent with each other enjoying the mutual company. Movies, karaoke, dinners, concerts; typical date stuff.

But they weren't dating.

Misato kept telling herself that, even after the one night they were walking home following a light romance film Maya wouldn't shut up about, and in an uncharacteristic show of chivalry Shinji lent her his jacket. It was sweet, heart-warming and surprisingly tender coming from him, and he couldn't have thought anything of it. He just did it for her. And suddenly their time together became so much more for Misato. She wasn't used to taking it this slow, or having serious male friends. And Shinji just plain wasn't used to having friends. So it was new territory for the both of them.

Not that she hadn't thought about it before. She always found him cute. Sometimes, late under a dark night sky, alone in her shadowy room, Misato wished he'd age a few years overnight. Just enough to grow a horrible teenage mustache and be deemed legal. That didn't make her a monster, right? A little temptation was natural. They lived together, fought together, and by her own admission he was attractive and she was astonishingly gorgeous. And their personalities meshed so well. As far as Misato knew she was the only person who actively joked with him and could make him smile without dirty words (Kensuke and Toji) or piecemeal praise (creepy old man Ikari).

She did flirt with him a little like Asuka, but the purposeful spite behind the redhead's words were absent with her. Most of the time. And the less said about Rei's ability to connect with other human beings the better. It was sort of a process of elimination. It was also sort of convoluted. But they were both having fun and that was what mattered the most. Especially in this day and age.

Mating rituals had changed drastically in the last fifteen years. Faced with apocalyptic population dives governments around the globe offered hefty childbirth incentives and the culture gradually evolved around it. Courtships were shorter, people were getting married earlier. Divorce rates were up, but families were bigger. Children were seen more and more as things until childbearing age, and teenagers were by and large treated as smaller adults.

Misato had lived in both the pre- and post-Impact worlds and her acceptance of the new norms was somewhere in the middle, neither totally nor not at all. She knew firsthand how immature and grown-up teens could be. One minute they could be saving the world, the next they could be squabbling in her backseat over whose turn it is to take out the trash.

She blamed most of Shinji's less mature aspects on Asuka. Period. That girl needed a reality check. And Shinji needed a more responsible influence in his life. By responsible, Misato meant older. And since Ritsuko always had a thing for beards, and Maya had that strange love for pink and women, that left the good Major Katsuragi to pick up the pieces. By pieces, Misato meant Shinji. Specifically, his pieces.

Stop that, she chastised herself. That's just dirty.

Granted, she was currently kissing him, but that was as far as they'd gone. Even tonight was pushing their unspoken boundary of chastity. She hadn't moved since she tackled him and was enjoying how his thin body squirmed beneath her. She knew she was a bit heavier than he was but Shinji wasn't complaining. Though it was taking all of her considerable willpower not to start dry humping him.

They had decided to take things slow. And by “they” Misato meant herself. After the drunken bad dream kiss as she referred to it in her the relative safety of her mind, she tried to act like it never happened. Resulting in utter disaster. Shinji avoided her, and she got pissy. Which in turn made Asuka pissy by association. Which in turn made Asuka hurt Shinji.

Misato tried to laugh it off, blaming it on her drug of choice. Resulting in utter disaster again, by way of the exact same utterly disastrous results.

She knew waiting for him to bring it up again would be like waiting for Ritsuko to say she was getting married so Misato bit the bullet and simply asked him out like old times. Cornering him in his room after waking him up in the dark by holding his nose proved to be a good idea after all since he lacked the cognizance to form any kind of objection.

On the way home after an awkward dinner and a movie Misato stopped the car, locked the doors, and kissed him. Shinji openly wondered if she was drunk. She pinched his cheek angrily and kissed him again. The anger proved she wasn't any more liquored up than usual.

“So what did that one mean?” he asked.

“Let's just see where things go, okay?” she half asked, half told him. And because she knew he wouldn't debate that, he didn't.

“Things” led to them on the couch, and their third real makeout session. The first was in her car, after a detour to avoid road reconstruction following the Tenth Angel's attack. Misato had dropped Asuka off at Hikari's following a lengthy synch test at NERV, and she and Shinji eventually found themselves in the underground parking lot of their apartment complex. And then they found themselves tangled together in the back seat after he asked what she wanted for dinner, her left knee planted on the dirty floor, Shinji's head jammed against the door handle.

Their second was in NERV, in an elevator en route to a synch test. Mostly because Misato wanted to see how his erection looked in the plug suit. He had to deflate the rubber outfit then reseal it. Which meant he had a sizable bulge for the test. Ritsuko kept bitching at her when she couldn't stop chuckling in the command bridge.

Those little times in the car and the elevator were tame by Misato's standards. While she made good friends with his backside, Shinji's hands only roamed no further than her lower back. What did he need, written consent?

Actually, she liked the idea of ordering him what to do. Like when they kissed… he was so timid. He always let her initiate, and gave her total authority and control. Misato found she didn't mind at all. It was new, but not entirely unpleasant. She'd never really been the “teacher” before, so it was a novelty. But training him how to kiss, how to touch her face and hair was sort of a turn-on.

She'd be lying if she didn't admit holding a powerful sexual fantasy of commanding him what to do to her. And there was no time like the present to see her dreams become reality. Misato was a master of rationalizations.

“Shinji-kun,” she said, coming up for air. “I want to ask you something, but I'm afraid you'll think I'm… dirty or weird.”

“I could never think that.”

“Don't say that unless you mean it.”

“I do mean it,” he said, still slightly out of breath.

“Alright…” She licked her lips and bent her head down, nestling her chin in the crook of his neck. She breathed into his ear. “Could I watch you masturbate?”

Shinji did an admirable job of not completely freaking out. He suddenly wished he was hearing voices or that this was all some sick, twisted dream. Despite the occasional hormone-induced thought he sometimes suffered under, the actual idea of doing anything truly sexual with Misato was absent from his conscious mind. Mostly because he had become highly trained to suppress his tepid libido since moving into this apartment.

Coupled with the learned belief that sex should be reserved for people who truly cared for each other, mostly because no one cared for him and he never had sex, he stayed his hand. So to speak.

Kissing and hugging was fine, but beyond that he felt some kind of romantic connection was required. Which brought the old question to his mind: what exactly were the two of them doing? Again, kissing and hugging was fine, but to his generation a romance didn't officially start until both parties openly acknowledged it as such, no matter what they did beforehand.

So why would Misato want to do something this extreme with him? Unless she genuinely cared about him. But if she didn't say it out loud first, and he desperately wanted her to, and not under the haze of several beers this time, he didn't think dropping trou was a good idea for the future of the marginally successful living arrangement he was currently in.

On the other hand, why was he fighting this so hard?

Ah, right. I'm a coward.

He decided to try and buy some more time for his slushy brain to think.

“Wh-what did you say?”

“Well, you've done it before, right?” Misato tried not to laugh. “I mean, the walls in this apartment are pretty thin…”

“You… you heard!?”

“I have to admit you did a commendable job of keeping quiet but when you know what to listen for… oh, don't look so ashamed. You're a young, healthy, strapping male. A little meet and beat is totally natural. You have nothing to feel bad about.”

“But… you heard!?” Shinji swallowed something big. “Oh God did Asuka hear too?”

“Somehow I don't see you living and her knowing being compatible.” She giggled at his continued histrionics. “Come on, relax. If you're too tense it won't work right.”

“How… God, how can you talk so… openly about this? I… oh, God! I can't believe you heard me!”

“I told you it's no big deal. I don't—”

Misato stopped. She realized, full force, how young he really was. But she was already in too deep. As soon as Asuka told her she was going on a date the thought of jumping Shinji entered her mind unbidden. And Misato was, if nothing else, true to her own instincts.

She knew not too many people would approve of her seeing Shinji, for various reasons. There was the whole guardian/ward detail to consider, and the fact she was his commanding officer, and of course that little age gap of fifteen years.

Misato wondered how she'd react if she saw, for example, Ritsuko making out with Shinji. Gut response: whip her gun out and decorate the wall with the doctor's brains. Bad example. How about Ritsuko making out with some other fourteen-year-old. Misato couldn't deny she'd feel a good amount of disgust. Then again, the thought of Ritsuko making out with anyone disgusted her.

Another bad example. But who cared? She wasn't forcing him into this. He could back out any time he wanted. Of course, she said that about all her boyfriends, and they never did. She always ended it. Dicks were a powerfully persuading influence regarding a guy's emotional attachments.

But she found herself unable to end this. Whatever this was. If she did he'd be devastated. He might run away. He might report her. She could be killed, or jailed. Or killed by Asuka, possibly with Rei's help.

Better to continue this odd state of affairs, just so she'd retain control of the situation. Keeping a happy lover silent was a hell of a lot easier than trying to force a jilted one to keep his mouth shut.

And there was that whole piloting thing to think about. Forget about an awkward working environment, he'd probably just up and leave if she hurt him, thereby damning the entire human race. The fate of mankind rested in her hands. Literally.

But she did like him, and she had to admit she did want him. Despite the fact he was young, and a virgin, and shy, and a bit wimpy. He cared for her when every other man only thought about sliding inside her. He saw her when everyone else saw her body. He listened to her, did things for her, worried over her, and all without the expectation of compensation. Just her above-par guardianship.

Guardian. Ward. This is wrong. Wrong wrong wrong. No, don't think like that. He's capable of making his own decisions. Right? Right. Nothing wrong at all. Because I like him, and I'm pretty sure he likes me. At least, his body does. There. Problem solved. Continue the campaign to see him cum.

“You're making me feel bad,” Misato whimpered as she turned her face to wipe away several theatrical tears. “I mean, if you don't think I'm pretty just say so. Don't put on a big act just to spare my feelings.”

“That's not it,” Shinji said, leaning up. “I'm just…” He swallowed hard. “I'm just… not sure what you want me to say.”

“Say yes.”

He tried to dispel the watery sensation that had invaded most of his body. Even his lungs felt like puddles, and he had to breathe hard to penetrate the dampness.

“I…”

Misato ducked her head down to kiss his neck. On a whim she slid her tongue between her lips and slowly dragged it up along his jaw to his chin. She smiled as he shuddered beneath her.

“I'd really like to see it,” she whispered, blowing hot breath across his ear.

She didn't want to watch him do this just because she was a pervert. Her reasons were twofold. First, to learn what gave him pleasure. There was no better teacher than example. And second, because she was a pervert.

Apparently Shinji wasn't the pervert Asuka continually accused him of being. Or his timidity was keeping him check. Or he was ashamed. But he was a teenage boy, for God's sake. Let's see some action.

“Have you ever done it…” She bent forward. “… while thinking about me?”

Not about you doing this, he thought. This is weird.

“No,” he said.

“You really don't find me attractive?” Her tone was playfully sad and teasing. She sounded genuinely skeptical. That's like… not possible, right? A sudden flash of anger danced behind her eyes.

“No,” Shinji said quickly, not liking the look she was giving him. “You're… beautiful, Misato-san.” His face went beet red. That sounded so lame. What am I supposed to do?

“Well I'm glad you think so.” Her good mood returned in a heartbeat and she grinned. “And I'm fairly sure another part of you feels the same way.” She lightly ground her hip into his crotch. She watched a slow blush eat his face up. She rubbed him with her thigh at a pace slow enough to make him scream at her to speed up. He opened his mouth.

“Um…”

“Maybe you just need a little inspiration,” Misato said with a leer. She grasped his hand in hers and let it levitate towards her chest. “So, Shin-chan… ever feel a real woman before?” She knew he was obviously a virgin but she wanted to see his blush get darker. And to be completely honest the way he mumbled and stuttered was starting to make her really hot.

She did not, however, expect his face to drain of color and adopt a very staid expression.

“Um…” Shinji kept his dread at a minimum. Even if that time with Rei was a mistake, he didn't want to cover it up. That felt incredibly wrong, especially since he and Misato were… doing stuff now. “Um…”

“Shinji-kun?” Misato arched an eyebrow. A streak of panic shot through her. Did that little foreign hussy let him touch her? She'd kill Asuka! Her and her firm teenage breasts!

“Well…” He swallowed hard. It was fairly hard to do since Misato was on top of him. “It happened the first month I was here…”

With a heavy heart, Shinji recounted the tale of his first trip to Rei's apartment, accidental groping and all. The one event he swore he would take with him to the grave. But if things with Misato were getting serious, he felt complete honesty was essential. It would eat him alive otherwise. It would also be disastrous and most likely physically painful if she found out on her own.

“Misato-san?” He started shaking beyond his control when she didn't respond. “Misato-san? Are… are you angry—”

Misato stared down at him as she seriously considered everything he told her. She leaned away from him and as Shinji was preparing an apology she laughed straight into his face. She kept laughing, holding her sides. She found she couldn't stop laughing. She was still laughing three minutes later, when Shinji's embarrassment and total mortification had turned to frustration and annoyance.

“Misato-san, stop. It isn't funny. Nothing about that was funny for me. So stop laughing.”

“I can't!” She was practically rolling. “Oh my God! That is hilarious! I bet Rei didn't know what the hell was going on!”

“She… I told you she didn't even react or anything.”

“Maybe you were doing it wrong!” Misato choked out.

Shinji considered leaving, but he was trapped beneath her. Not that he was complaining.

At length her hysterics died down to gentle hiccups of laughter and she delicately wiped a few helpless tears from her eyes.

“Phew!” Misato exhaled in a blast. “Oh, I wonder if Ritsuko knows about that yet.”

“No!” Shinji blurted. “No one else can ever know! I need your word that you won't tell another living soul about this ever!”

“Hmm. I see your point. If the Commander found out about this there would be trouble. Actually, I wonder if he already knows.”

Shinji went ashen.

“So,” she began, “you `know' Rei. But who do you like more?”

She crushed his hand to her right breast and squeezed. She was only wearing a tank top, meaning Shinji was more or less feeling nothing but her. He suddenly found he couldn't formulate coherent speech.

He stared up in awe. He lightly tensed his fingers, entranced with the warmth, the softness, the gentle weight, her. Not for the first time he wished he had the confidence or even blind lust needed to take the initiative and do at least some of the things he heard guys were supposed to do. Even if all the things he heard were out of the mouths of virgins, Shinji still figured they had more experience than he did. But his hand was beyond the scope of his skewed logic. In the purely physical present Shinji let himself feel her and was content.

Misato grinned. He wasn't clawing at her, or twisting anything, or pinching stuff. He was just lightly holding her, and it was nice. Not great, but nice. As nice as this was, she wanted something more. This affair or relationship or fuck buddy or… this thing needed more than a cupping to move forward. Plus, she was horny. She was on the verge of telling him that, possibly both points, when he opened his mouth.

“Okay,” he whispered.

“Hmm?”

“Okay. You can watch. If you really want to.”

Score.

Misato didn't bother with an acknowledgment. She unbuckled his pants and tore his belt from him. She slipped her fingers in and pulled his slacks down. She got them around his knees and gave up. She raised her hips slightly, giving him the necessary room, and ducked her head back down.

“Pull down your underwear,” she blew into his ear.

Shinji reluctantly did as he was told.

Misato kissed him, then gazed down at her victory. She quickly kissed him again so he couldn't see her smile.

It was far from the biggest, or the longest, or the thickest dick she'd ever seen, but what was she expecting from a skinny, small, cute teenager? Her previous fantasy of Shinji packing a foot long cock made her giggle now. He didn't have the frame for it. But he was hard and ready and that was all that mattered. Using her amazing tape measure of a mind, Misato figured he had at least four and a half inches on him, which while by no means gigantic could have possible benefits. She could probably fit the whole thing down her throat. Or up her—

“Misato-san…”

Shinji gave a shuddering sigh as her stomach pressed against him. She pulled back and found a pearly string of precum suspended between his head and her shirt.

“I want to see the rest of it come out,” she said before he could apologize. She lightly rubbed her stomach on him until a sizable stain developed on her shirt, spreading out in a globular patch. She grinned in fierce satisfaction as he moaned faintly through his nose.

Well, he thought brokenly. She let me grope her. I guess it's only fair I fulfill her request. This is weird.

“I'm waiting,” she whispered in that quality of voice she learned spread erections around like a rolling blackout. She raised her body from his just enough to allow his access.

Shinji slowly reached down to his penis and began to stroke it with his fingertips. He lightly caressed down the shaft then wrapped his hand around it, barely holding it all. Misato arched an eyebrow.

Well. We'll see how long this lasts.

Every single guy she'd ever been with ended roughly. A few would begin gently and tenderly but when their O face started to creep over them it was time for a little brutality on their dick. They'd thrust like it was going out of style, or tear their penis out of her and yank on it at an absolutely vicious pace.

Maybe because he was so young and inexperienced, Shinji was so careful with himself. That was the best way she could describe the contact. He didn't grip it like a flashlight in a dark room, or tug it with all the fury of a lust-blinded beast.

He curled his fingers into a cup and delicately stroked, letting the soft friction make himself feel good.

Misato watched him in wonder. It would take longer than the usual masturbation session, as she understood it, but the payoff would be better. She was glad Shinji wasn't all about instant gratification.

Good to know.

Or it was all an act to impress her. She highly doubted that. With a gorgeous older woman straddling him, his dick in his hand, a tit in the other, and the promise of more goodness in the foreseeable future, Misato didn't think Shinji had the mental capacity to fake something like this. He wasn't known for subterfuge or subtlety in high-stress situations.

He started breathing through his mouth. His eyes were shut tight, trying to pretend this was all a dream and his guardian and commanding officer wasn't on hands and knees above him on her tiny couch watching him jerk off.

This is weird.

He opened his mouth a little wider to receive more air and immediately found it filled with Misato. The unpleasant tang of beer dissolved as soon as he tasted it, overpowered by her violent tongue as it groped and explored his mouth. He was forced to pant through his nose to keep from passing out.

Misato found a happy routine of probing his mouth, backing off to watch his hand work, then diving back in. But after nearly five minutes she was getting mighty bored. She wanted to yell at him to hurry up.

She decided to split the difference and frenched him as hard as she could, battering his mouth with her tongue. Her hands drifted from their posts by his shoulders and started massaging his chest, her fingers rubbing over his painfully hard nipples.

Shinji finally stopped and broke from her mouth, gasping for breath.

“What's wrong?” she asked in genuine concern.

“I, well, it'll make a mess…”

Being the tactical genius that she was, Misato instantly thought of a solution.

She drew back so she was sitting on his thighs, cupped her hands, and positioned them below his penis.

“Please,” she said. “Continue.”

Misato liked to watch men cum. The way it spurted out always fascinated her. And while cleanup was a bitch she didn't mind allowing guys to finish on her back or stomach or occasionally on her chest. Never on her face. She had standards. But in her hand was a new one.

Shinji looked doubtful, but seeing her absolute sincerity in the proposed course of action he complied. His blush didn't lessen any.

This is just really, really… weird.

If she wanted it he had to give it to her. Shinji tried to believe it was because he truly cared for her, but suffering under the bane of absolute honesty he had to admit it was little more than the near total abandonment of lucidity his thought processes were struggling against as he recognized the precursors of orgasm; the tightening of his stomach muscles, the pulsating tremor in his groin and shaft, his testicles contracting close to his body, breath running stiff and fast…

Shinji arched his back until the top of his skull and the soles of his feet were crushing the armrests of the couch, his face a straining against imminent release. He pushed his free hand up on Misato's breast and squeezed with his fingertips. His voice, a weak pant that had been growing in frequency and volume for the past few minutes reached a crescendo, and he gave her a muted cry of tightly controlled gratification.

With a final gasp Shinji filled Misato's hands with five bursts of semen. His body jerked up with each as a few quick grunts slipped past his lips. He continued stroking himself a few moments more then collapsed beneath her. His hands fell away from his penis and her chest, and he stared at the ceiling as he tried to catch his breath.

Misato blushed. She tilted her hands side to side, feeling his essence freely slip along her palms, seeping into the cracks between her fingers. It was amazingly warm. And there was so much collected in her hands, like an oily pool. She couldn't help grinning.

“Oh… oh wow,” Shinji panted. He gazed up at Misato with near veneration. “Wow.”

If this is how he reacts to a phantom handjob… Misato's grin turned delirious. He was going to be so appreciative.

She thought a gradual introduction to sex would work better in the long run. Though she was itching to rip her shorts off and grab that poorly neglected box of condoms in her sock drawer, these past few months had taught her a lot about moderation and restraint. Not that she was moderate or restrained. Just a little less openly enthusiastic in her vociferousness.

She rose and swung herself to the floor as his erection gradually waned. Shinji was too dazed to object.

“I'm going to go clean up,” Misato said. She stood, careful not to spill her present, and made her way to the bathroom. She stopped as she opened the door with her foot and gazed back at Shinji over her shoulder. “Want to join me?”

So much for moderation and restraint.

Fuck gradual, she thought. I have needs, damn it. And holding hands is not taking care of them.

Watching Shinji make himself cum was almost as hot as she imagined it would be, but it put her in the mood for a little more. Or, a lot more.

Okay. Okay. Maybe we won't do everything tonight… but I'd like a little more than watching him jerk off.

Or, a lot more.

Shut up, brain! I am not in the mood for rationality or prudence! Just blank out until your master the crotch gets tired, alright? You should know your place by now.

“Coming?” she asked, giving him an inviting smile as she inwardly cringed at how that sounded. Great. Now he has to think I'm a slut.

Shinji fiddled with the edge of his shirt. He took a breath deep enough to fill his lungs with the air necessary to enable a frenzied sprint of adolescent cowardice to at least the bus stop three blocks away.

No, he thought. I won't run away. Yes, this is weird. But I'm weird. Therefore, this is normal. Besides, would Toji or Kensuke run away from this situation?

That stopped his train of thought as he realized the utter implausibility of either of his friends ever being in this situation. Or a situation remotely similar to this. That, and he had been made painfully aware of how incredibly different his views regarding women were compared to his friends' since he and Misato began doing whatever the hell they were doing. While Shinji tried to act with a modicum of respect towards females, if for nothing else than to avoid abuse from females, a part of him was convinced it was starting to lean in a more chivalrous direction.

Which meant accepting Misato's request would be technically considered polite, but it could also be construed as seeing her as nothing but an object of sexual release, albeit an apparently willing and enthusiastic one, but—

You know what? Screw this. Stop thinking so damn much. “Just see where things go,” right?

He scooped his underwear and slacks up to his waist and obediently stumbled after Misato. She vanished inside as soon as he approached her, and after a final gulp of air to give himself the reassuring illusion of confidence, Shinji entered the bathroom.

He slid the door shut behind him and edged past the laundry to the bathroom proper, hesitating long enough to hear the faucet turn on then off. He didn't feel like watching his watered-down emission drip off her hands into the sink.

He finally peeked into the bathroom proper and found Misato nonchalantly standing on the dead center of the tiled floor with her back to him, making short work of her clothes. With a small sigh of satisfaction she pulled her top free of her head and casually tossed it to her feet. She glanced over her shoulder and found him fidgeting under the doorframe, his hands over his crotch to keep his pants up. He quickly forced his eyes off her body.

She laughed silently to herself. Time to tease him a little more.

“You have to take your clothes off, silly,” she said, giggling at his prevailing modesty. “You can't take a bath fully dressed.”

He didn't answer, opting to blush and watch the floor. Then she turned back around and he stared at her ass again. Which was now bare, as she pulled her shorts and underwear down around her ankles, the garments hitting the floor with all the finality of an executioner's axe.

Despite her aggressiveness tonight, Misato hesitated in turning around to fully face him. She let lust momentarily cloud her thoughts and forgot the long scar running down her torso. She was almost shocked when she stripped and this ugly mark stared up at her. While she did wear a lot of skimpy clothing around the apartment, she was always exceedingly careful at keeping everything hidden. Not that she thought he'd puke or laugh or say she was repulsive, it was just…

It was just that first look. The one men gave her when she was naked in front of them the first time. Some were better than others at hiding it, or disguising it, but the underlying emotion displayed in their eyes was always the same; she's damaged goods. Disgust, pity, fear… it was all there. But they'd always let their dicks trump their revulsion. Misato lost count of all the times she'd be fucking someone and they wouldn't once open their eyes to look at her. She learned the dark was conducive to orgasm.

Shinji, too entranced with her bare bottom on full display, never noticed her uncertainty. He finally shook out of his staring contest with her ass cleavage and realized Misato had been standing there with her back to him for several minutes.

“Are you okay?” he asked quietly.

With a sudden jerky movement she faced him. Shinji felt faint. She looked even curvier out of her clothes. Which was odd, considering she occasionally wore next to nothing. But to see her totally free of any concealment was powerful and commanding.

Her arms were crossed over her chest in a surprisingly modest pose, but what drew his eyes like a redhead's fist to his face were the long thighs climbing up to her torso, subtly flaring into round hips and a tapered waist, then the slight pleat of her pelvis as it sloped down into a perfect creased plump of flesh crowned with a fluffy patch of dark lavender hair carefully groomed into a V shape, like angel wings.

Shinji figured there would be very few times in his life when he actually had the chance to deliberately inspect a real woman's body. Magazines and websites were okay, but to have the genuine article standing right in front of him was something else entirely. He tried to make the most of it.

He eventually realized she hadn't moved or spoken since facing him and he forced his eyes off her very pleasant bodily diversions and found her arms by her sides, her chest and scar full and free. He stared. Then he looked up to her face, but her eyes were far away from his.

Being naked with a guy was nothing new, but this awkward silence was. He hadn't jumped her yet, or gasped, or asked if it hurt or something dumb like that. She steeled herself and refocused on him. What she found did not instill her with warmth.

It wasn't a disgusted look; it was more like commiseration diluted with confusion, or a vain attempt to decipher an unsolvable problem. Not so much why she had it, or how she got it, but why she had to have it. What had she done to deserve it.

That looks… painful, Shinji thought, keeping his mind polite in case Misato suddenly gained the ability to read it.

In Shinji's mind Misato was as much a warrior as Asuka or Rei. She might not board a giant robot and grapple monsters the size of buildings, but she was on the frontlines, she was as essential to victory as an A.T. Field or palette rifle. And the scar proved it. Shinji turned to his side and hastily fumbled with his belt to check if it was secure.

Misato felt like someone had punched her. She blinked hard to stop the tears and averted her eyes. He was revolted by her. He thought she was ugly. She couldn't summon the rage she knew she should feel, and would feel later. At the moment there was just disappointment. She thought he'd be different. Idealism was as far a concept to her as popping a boner, but Shinji made her feel young and bright, not old and used up. She could almost forget her past when she was with him, like a drug or a couple beers. She didn't want to let that go. Was he really so turned off by this that he was just going to leave?

Even that time in the hot spring with Asuka, when she just kept staring at it… the girl's eyes were so heavy with pity, like she was looking at a dog with three legs. Misato tried to stay light and pretend it was no big deal, but it was. It was always a big deal.

“Well,” she said, sounding uncomfortable and irked, “here I am.” She wouldn't look directly at him.

She waited for the inevitable apology or hollow consolation. She heard him step closer, but he didn't say anything. After a moment he pushed forward and he was hugging her.

He didn't ask her how it happened like everyone else. He didn't ask if it hurt, or if she ever considered surgery to hide it, or something dumb like that. He just stepped up to her and tentatively wrapped his arms around her back. He was trembling in considerable anxiety but he was still there, embracing her. She crushed him to her.

They hugged for a long time. Misato held him as tightly as she could, and Shinji wondered if he had done something wrong. He tried his best to remain supportive and understanding, but the combination of her arms cuddling his back, her chest squashed against his neck, and the sensation of her bare thighs rubbing between his were all destroying the sentimental moment fostered by his attempt at sensitivity.

He knew it would have been inconsiderate to gawk or turn his nose up or even acknowledge the scar. He lived with two attractive women long enough to realize it was a very, very bad idea to say anything disparaging about their looks even if it was true or they asked for an “honest opinion.” That one left a bruise. Twice. And he wasn't blind. He realized she was worried about showing him this. He had tried hard to not do anything too thoughtless.

He felt his dick stiffen and press angrily into her bare thigh and his whole plan to avoid appearing insensitive leapt out the window and into the bottomless chasm of male stupidity. He cringed, waiting for the rebuke and slap.

He heard a low chuckle.

The benefits of a young lover, Misato thought.

She lessened her grip to take a step back and slid her hands up to his shoulders, grinning as he desperately tried to keep his eyes on her face. She took a slow look down and issued a low, throaty laugh.

“It's hardly fair that I'm the only one naked,” she said. She saw him hesitate, and brightly asked: “Do you want some help?”

Shinji inexplicably felt like a toddler. Then he remembered where he was. In a bathroom with a naked woman who already asked him to jerk off in front of her. He knew where he was.

“… ah, well…”

His mouth just didn't know.

Misato chuckled and gave him a leisurely, languid kiss, and gently raised his arms over his head. She lifted his shirt off and tossed it carelessly on the floor. She took a moment to stroke his chest, running her fingertips over his collarbone and down his sides to twirl around his bellybutton, then roam up to his nipples which were already stiff as nails. She lightly pinched them, rubbing the protuberances between her thumb and forefingers, enjoying the quick way he struggled for breath.

Misato tittered delicately and crouched before him. Her hands drifted down to remove his pants, and on impulse she leaned forward to take his left nipple into her mouth. Shinji yelped from the unfamiliar stimulation and she laughed around him. Misato gently bit down on the nub, pulled it out, then let it snap back into place.

Still weird, Shinji thought.

His pants and underwear hit the floor. She forced him to step out of them and led him towards the tub, sparing a moment to turn the faucet on. Before leading him any further she stepped back and grinned, running an appraising eye over his body.

He was skinny. There was no way around that. She could clearly see most of his ribs, and the bottom of his sternum stood up like a fishhook. His arms and legs were sticks, and the ridge of his pelvic bones was a bowl over his crotch. Though his chest and shoulders unaccountably looked rather filled out. Maybe all that Eva training was paying some dividends. She couldn't see much of it since he was nervously covering everything he could on his way to his penis.

Misato delicately lifted his hands and placed them by his sides. She resumed the examination of little Shinji she started on the couch. It was actually pretty nice. It wasn't bent in a weird way, or curved funny, and thank God it wasn't hairy. Those were the worst. He had a handful of curly strands at his base and his testicles were nearly bald. That was a private turn on for her. But men were so sensitive about shaving. Such big babies. Misato had to do it for her entire legs and armpits, to say nothing of the routine maintenance around her fun zone. Guys were so lazy.

“My, my, my,” Misato purred. “What a handsome young man you've become, Shinji-kun. I bet the girls never leave you alone. Should I be jealous?”

“Ah, no.”

“Oh.” She frowned a little. Didn't he know how adorable he was? Maybe it was just her. Or maybe it was a holdover from all that shota stuff Ritsuko was obsessed with back in college. She shrugged. “Well,” she said merrily, “your dick's still hard as a rock. You look ready to cum right now.”

Shinji hunched his shoulders, trying to disappear into himself. All this dirty talk was pitilessly killing what little comfort he had with this situation.

“Do you want me to masturbate again?” he asked awkwardly. That was honestly the only conclusion he could find to the situation.

“As tempting as that sounds,” she said, “I have another idea.”

She smiled warmly at him, trying to ease his anxiety and embarrassment, and gently gripped his buttocks. They clenched immediately and she grinned, steering him over to the tub. She made him sit on the raised edge, back to the water. She kissed him hard, reaching around to shut the tub's faucet off, then drew back to see him staring at her in tense bewilderment. His dick pointed straight up to her.

“Trust me,” she said with a wink and a smile. She dropped to her knees.

Misato knew she gave a good blowjob. If it wasn't the volume of their yells, it was the men telling her she gave a good blowjob. She didn't hate doing it, but it wasn't her favorite thing in the world either. But after his response to seeing her scar her mind was made up then and there. He made her feel wonderful. Time to repay the favor. Besides, it made men grateful, and as long as they didn't expect her to swallow she was cool with it.

She glanced up at her Shinji and found him watching her in total puzzlement, like he had no idea what she was going to do. His fingers were clenching the edge of the tub, his nails scraping the surface. Misato's smile widened.

“Try to relax,” she told him.

She opened her mouth and slowly extended her tongue as far as she could, then curled it down. She inched closer to his penis, keeping her eyes on his the whole time. He looked shocked she was about to lick his erection. Misato arched an eyebrow slightly. Hadn't he ever fantasized something like this before?

He gave her a shuddering sigh as she finally made contact, and leisurely traveled his entire length, stopping to swirl around his head, and dip the tip of her tongue into his opening.

“Misato-san…” he moaned softly.

She stopped dead in her tracks. He sounded utterly euphoric, just from a tiny lick.

She glanced up. He looked unabashedly vulnerable, giving her complete trust over his body. He met her eyes and did not look away, but not in an impatient silent command to continue. He was gazing at her in all but unconcealed adoration. Was affection so alien to him? Was he that desperate for a little show of love? Even a purely physical one?

Misato closed her eyes.

She leaned over him and let his head split her lips, then gave him a leisurely suck. She even made the tremulous squeaky suction noise men loved so much. She never really got the appeal, but guys could be a little weird.

She slowly and carefully coated his entire length with her saliva, letting her tongue get familiar with every bend and vein and blemish. She used one hand to lightly pull his short foreskin away from his head and licked all around the crevice. Her other firmly gripped his shaft and began to stroke up and down, freely letting her thumb dip down to caress his balls.

She sucked on him slow and hard, intent on giving him a mind-blowing orgasm. Her hands had other ideas as she found them rubbing him off as fast as they could. She forced herself to slow down.

Easy, girl.

She grinned around him. He was pretty good at being quiet when he wanted. Didn't he know it was okay to make some noise, now of all times?

“Oh wow,” Shinji finally gasped.

That was all he could manage. Never in all his wettest dreams had he ever imagined anything like this. He heard Toji and Kensuke talk about some bizarre stuff but he never paid it any attention. Those two had as much imaginative restraint regarding women as Shinji had happy childhood memories. But this… this was just too much.

Why on earth would Misato, anyone, debase themselves like this for him? What the hell had he ever done to deserve this?

He tried to tell her she didn't have to do this, but he couldn't. He didn't really want to. The absolutely staggering sensation mercilessly crushed his guilt and shame until nothing but her mouth around his dick existed for him. Her tongue swirling around his length, the lips caressing the shaft, her blazing hot fingers right under her mouth stroking and twisting up, then down, all over and over again.

Everything was volcanically hot, even the tile beneath his feet. He cracked one eye open to commit the experience to visual memory but he couldn't see anything beneath Misato's mane of hair as it curtained his groin in a kind of obscene modesty. He slipped his eye shut and went back to struggling for breath.

Orgasm crept up on him like a torrential downpour. Figuratively and literally. He cursed his body. A part of him wished he could stay like this forever, even if it meant he'd never cum. This feeling, this kind of connection was—

“Misato-san… I'm going to—”

“Cum for me,” she whispered, sparing a moment to break from him. She flicked her tongue across his head, then engulfed him again.

Feeling his legs tremble and stomach convulsively clench, Misato decided to let him off the hook and allow him to finish. Prolonging his torture would have been fun, but he had held on admirably until now, and she really was eager to claim the honorable distinction of being the first person to get Ikari Shinji off.

“Ah, a-ah,” Shinji panted. He pitched forward. “I'm going to, I'm going to—”

Her lips drew back from his head with an audible pop, and planted themselves on his shaft to suck in all the skin they could, while she used her left hand to cover his tip and her right to pump him at a pace she considered just short of hard.

“Misato-san, I'm—”

He gritted his teeth for a moment, then threw them open. He came, squirting into her closed hand as he shuddered with each discharge. His voice crashed out from his throat, gradually getting higher and higher until it wavered into a small whimper.

Orgasm finally abandoned him with a sustained fire scorching up through his shaft to erupt into her waiting hand. Shinji gave her a soft moaning whine and slumped forward to pant in her hair.

She waited for him to recapture a semblance of control before rising. She gave him a chaste kiss on the cheek then quickly walked across the bathroom to the sink. He barely noticed, trying to regain sensation in the numb tingling mass his crotch had become.

“How'd it feel?” Misato asked from the sink with a cocky smirk. “Was it a good blowjob?”

Blowjob, Shinji thought. Good name.

“Yeah,” he murmured weakly. “That… wow…”

“Mmm. I'm glad.”

She was being a great deal more submissive than she normally was, but a lot of guys found the whole obedience and subservience thing hot. Plus, she didn't want to scare Shinji off by roughing him up too soon. Which she inevitably would if this continued.

She wanted his introduction to sex to be pleasant, something he'd enjoy and have fond memories of. Not like her initiation. The awkwardness, the fumbling, the pain and blood. She had enough of that kind of crap in her regular day-to-day life. And she didn't want to chance driving Shinji away so he could get frisky with Asuka or Rei. A sadist and a stoic. Wounds and windup dolls. Misato couldn't see either of those scenarios ending well. Asuka would most likely kill or castrate him, and Rei would just lay there. Not ideal settings for a physical and emotional awakening.

And to ensure he stayed with her, forsaking all the younger, firmer, cuter ass to be had that virtually blanketed him every day, she decided to do something that would both ensure his loyalty and make him desperately grateful to repay his debt.

She harbored a few impatient hopes that he'd try to repay her right now, but looking at him she doubted he could walk on his own let alone absorb the proper instructions on how to eat her out. There was always tomorrow. Or, God willing, if Asuka decided to spend the night in a love hotel or a ditch, a half hour or so from now.

Misato returned to him and dropped down to work on cleaning his penis and thighs with a washrag. When she was satisfied with the job she ducked her head and started sucking forcefully on his head, draining every last drop from him. She pumped him hard, squeezing the deflating shaft and licking the pearls of cum left in him that bubbled out. It was metallic and bitter, but she could get used to it. She promised herself she would. She wanted to hear that utterly euphoric scream of his again.

He blew out a hard sigh and she drew back. Misato gave a final kiss to his limp shaft then stood up and smiled broadly.

“Time for that bath.”

-----------

“What a loser,” Asuka grumbled, digging through her handbag to find her keycard to the apartment. She remembered Hikari's description and scoffed. “'Hot soccer player' my ass. If he was any fatter he'd need one of my dresses to cover half of a leg.”

The door slid open and Asuka stalked inside. She idly strained her ears; the TV was still blaring. Those two snooze-jobs were probably still staring dumbly at the idiot box, Shinji gaping at the flashing colors and entertaining sounds, and Misato in a drunken coma with a tit or two hanging out of her slutty top.

“She's such a slut. Shinji would blow his load in a second if he ever saw anything. Loser.”

She stopped in the kitchen for a soda then strolled into the living room. She arched an eyebrow when she found it empty. Not even Pen Pen. She needed someone to complain to about how bad her date was. Or failing that, someone to abuse.

Okay, okay. She wanted to abuse Shinji. No use lying to herself.

Asuka plopped down on the couch and gulped her soda. As prickly carbonation tickled her throat, she leaned her head back and opened her mouth.

“Stupid!” she called out as she picked up the TV remote. “Get your bony behind out here! You need to make me some pancakes or we're going to have a serious problem!”

She waited, but did not hear the obedient swish of his bedroom door opening. She did not hear timid footfalls carrying one stupid perverted stupid pervert into the kitchen to heat up the skillet. Asuka growled and sat up.

“Stupid! Stupid Shinji! Front and center! This is your commander in chief speaking! You have orders you need to carry out or you'll find yourself in the brig! And by brig, I mean the hospital after I remind you where your priorities should be! Get out here now!”

The bathroom door flew open and Shinji jumped out fully dressed, though his hair was wet. He looked panicky and sleepy. She shrugged it off as him being an idiot as usual. There were pancakes to be had.

“Kitchen. Pancakes. Now.” She jabbed her finger to the aforementioned room like an archer. Her face demanded nothing short of total obedience.

“Uh, right. Sure.” He paused and turned back to open the bathroom door a crack, peeked in, then slammed it shut again.

“Today,” Asuka said, rolling her eyes at his odd behavior.

“Right. Sorry.” Shinji hurried off to carry out her decree. Soon the clatter of dishware drifted through the apartment.

“Where's Misato?” the girl called out, eyes now glued to a teen drama. “Face down drunk in her futon?”

“Ah… yeah…”

“Surprise, surprise.”

“Say… you don't have to use the bathroom, do you?”

“No.” Asuka glanced at him. “Why?”

“Um… Pen Pen made a mess in there. He, ah, missed the toilet again. I haven't cleaned it up yet.”

“Again? That damn bird. I should cook him and serve him for dinner. Or you should.”

“Y-yeah,” Shinji said, forcing a laugh. “Good one.”

Asuka glanced at him again. The TV continued yelling at her but it soon faded to a wispy murmur. She focused intently on the boy in the kitchen, working with unusually frenetic movements. She knew he was practiced but he seemed so… anxious. What the hell was wrong with him?

“Everything alright?” she asked slowly as he flipped a cake in the air.

“Yeah. Of course. Why wouldn't it be?”

“You're acting suspicious. Are you hiding something from me?”

“What on earth would I be hiding?”

“I'm not sure.” Asuka narrowed her eyes. She took in his damp appearance, weary manner, and perpetual blush. Her mind took the logical next step. “You weren't… doing anything before I got home, were you? In the bathroom?”

Shinji tensed. Though her tone sounded placid enough, he knew better. She could snap to righteously enraged in a heartbeat depending on his answer.

“I had just gotten into the bath when I heard you call,” he said, not daring to face her. “I had to jump out and put some clothes on real fast. That's all.”

“… you were bathing with Pen Pen crap strewn across the floor?”

“… I really needed a bath.”

“Was this before or after Misato decided to pass out in her room? Or did you drag her in there?” Asuka just couldn't fathom him not doing something perverted freed from her vigilant eyes.

“She, ah, no, she left the couch after awhile and seemed… real thirsty.”

“And that somehow necessitated you taking a bath with the stench of avian feces by the tub?”

“Well, I, ah, I didn't notice it until I was halfway in the water, and I was pretty tired, so I just thought to make the best of it and clean up later?”

There was a long pause. Pancakes sizzled to realization. Asuka's mind was instantly refocused.

“Ah. I see.” She sniffed disdainfully. “I guess I can wait until tomorrow morning to take a shower. Even though the stench of loser is all over me from that horrendous date. But you'd better hurry your lazy butt and clean up the bathroom, okay?”

“Right. Sorry.” He handed her a plate of fluffy heaven.

“Well, I'm exhausted from the effort of being pleasant to stupid people so I'm hitting the hay,” Asuka announced, receiving her food and heading to her room. “Wake me up first tomorrow. I want the bathroom before anyone else. Including you. Got it?”

“Got it.”

Her door slid shut. Shinji once again successfully postponed his nervous breakdown for a later date. It wrapped its hands around his neck again as Asuka came back out and fixed him with a commanding stare.

“Syrup,” she said.

Given the events of the last hour or so, Shinji's mind equated syrup into something far, far different than what his roommate meant. The thought of drenching her plate with his—

Stop. Right. Now. Do not think that way.

“What?” he finally asked, unsuccessfully trying to kill his blush.

“Syrup,” she repeated. “For pancakes. I cannot have one without the other.”

“Oh,” he said, and she mistook his tone of dawning realization as his normal stupidity regarding simple requests.

“Well, go get it.” She had waited nearly ten seconds while he just stood there looking like a mannequin. “Get it!”

“Right!” He snapped to attention and scrambled into the kitchen, opening the fridge with the strength of a death row inmate making a break for freedom. He waded through its contents three times before his entire body sagged in resignation of inevitable pain. “We don't have any.”

“Excuse me? Isn't it your job to keep this dump stocked? And now you're telling me I have to eat pancakes dry? Oh, I do not think so.”

“Well, what am I supposed to do?” Do not think that way again.

“Get your wallet, put on your shoes, and sprint to the nearest grocery mart for maple syrup.”

“But… but the only store that has that is the import place on the other side of town—”

“Which means you better hurry before it closes. Hop to it, Third.”

“… yes, Asuka,” Shinji said. Though his legs were still slightly numbed and he was tired as hell, an irritated Asuka was not to be trifled with. He had the bruises and mental trauma to prove it. He started walking through the apartment.

“Hey,” she said, scrunching up her brow. “Why are you heading back to the bathroom?”

“… um… I left my wallet in there.”

A heavy, awkward, pain-augured silence descended on the apartment. Shinji swallowed.

“You are so weird, Third,” Asuka said with a roll of her eyes, and planted herself on the couch. “You better reheat these when you get back,” she said without looking at him, holding up the plate of pancakes.

“I will. Don't worry.”

He ducked into the bathroom for a moment and Asuka thought she heard him talking, and then he returned. He stopped by his room then headed for the front door to slip his shoes on.

“Be back soon,” he called out.

Asuka just grunted.

The door slid shut and locked. Asuka shook her head in a long, longsuffering way from coexisting with Shinji and Misato. She leaned back into the small but plush couch to ruin her intellect with some Japanese TV. Her brow abruptly furrowed. She sniffed the air experimentally.

“What the hell is that stench?”

-----------

Tonight had been a good night. Misato stood from the bath and made her way over to the cabinet beneath the sink, and removed her box of heavy flow tampons, the ones that always made Asuka turn her nose up. The container was empty except for a handy bottle of Happy Worm brand tequila. Nothing like a bit of dick with a stiff chaser. Pun not intended. Misato grinned, and sank back into the tub.

Tonight had been a good night. She and Shinji were on the path to a real relationship, or at least the part of a relationship Misato considered most real. She couldn't wait until she could feel him inside her. Tongue, finger, or dick. Any or all of the above. She started cataloguing scenarios and situations where they could finally do more than some oral. To be totally honest, she was cataloguing scenarios and situations where she could get off too.

Nevertheless, she was still pretty hot from their session and leisurely let her right hand tickle its way down to her stomach, the left firmly wrapped around the tequila bottle. With a tilt of her neck and a buck of her hips she let two things slide into her body. Fingering herself in a tub of water wasn't the brightest thing she had ever done, but she didn't planning on doing anything too extreme. Not until she got back to her room and the kids were asleep. At least Asuka. Damn girl. Spoiling bath time. It was nice to make out with Shinji in a warm tub, even if his dick was soft beyond any hope of hardening in the foreseeable future due to complications with her mouth.

The TV bellowed from the living room. Damn Asuka. Misato knew she'd have to stay in here until miss prissy pants got off her obnoxious foreign ass and went to bed. And what the hell was wrong with Shinji, running off to get some shit for that girl? He had a lover now, damn it. He should know where his priorities are.

He would. Soon. She'd make sure of it. It might take another blowjob or two, but she was sure they'd both be up for it. Pun intended.

She stretched her legs out and sighed in contentment.

Tonight had been a good night.

-----------

End?

Author notes: the title has several meanings, some of which don't fit at all. It was either that or Statutory!: Shinji Gets Molested by a Twenty-nine-year-old Woman. Not as catchy.

Finally wrote something trying to show sex can be more than ambiguity and abuse (Adam in fantasyland again). And about Shinji masturbating like that… hey, he's fourteen. It isn't unusual for a newbie. I guess at his age it is a little unbelievable, but fuck it. This is a light fic. And as such, I am willingly returning to my idealized vision of Shin-chan. Deal.

Misato didn't cum, but I attempted to keep a shred of realism in this. Sex ain't all mutual orgasms. Actually, it's never mutual orgasms. Damn you porn industry for spreading these implausible impossibilities! Besides. How many chicks are gonna read this shit? This is for male consumption. Lonely, strange male consumption.

Wait. That means I should have focused on Misato cumming. Aw, fuck.

The End

Wait. I totally forgot the Kaji/Misato angle. Fuck. Chapter 2, here I come. But first…

OMAKE rewrite

Asuka got ready for a date. Shinji and Misato were sitting on the couch. Asuka left. Misato started kissing Shinji. She asked him to masturbate in front of her. He did. She invited him into the bathroom and they stripped. She gave him a blowjob. He enjoyed it. Asuka came back and bitched. She ordered Shinji to make her pancakes. He thought about cumming on her plate. Misato got drunk in the tub and fingered herself. The end.

OMAKE the second

“Hot soccer team my ass,” Asuka grumbled. “If I have to be in one more gangbang with fat guys I am getting out of the business. Extra shopping money is not worth this. God, Hikari makes a lousy pimp, setting me up on these shitty jobs just to hook the lower income bracket clients. I need some Scope.”

She stalked into the kitchen to grab a handful of Aspirin from the cupboard then strolled into the living room and promptly arched an eyebrow. Relaxing around the TV was every female she had encountered in the city since she arrived, until now delegated to scene filler. Asuka sighed in exhaustion, though with a great deal of understanding.

“She is going to wear him out if he does this every night, and twice on Tuesdays.”

The bathroom door slid open and a very drained yet very contented Maya stumbled out, followed closely by Ritsuko.

“See, Maya-chan? Didn't I tell you it was worth the money?”

“Mmm hmm,” the girl mumbled vaguely, a blissful grin plastered over her face. She had to be supported up by the doctor.

“And I told you you'd barely be able to tell he was a guy.”

“Yeah,” Maya said dazedly. “That suit totally made him look like a girl. Hot.”

Misato followed behind them, waving goodbye.

“Thanks for the business! Please come again! Pun intended!” She consulted the clipboard she was holding, then looked over her packed living room. “Now serving number fifty-seven!”

“Eeee!” a young girl squealed, hurdling over the couch Olympic-runner style.

“Ah, Ms. Aino Kaede. My best customer. How are we this fine evening?”

“Eager to get Shinji-kun inside me as soon as possible, ma'am,” she chirped.

“Well that is what we're all here for,” Misato said cheerfully. She ushered her to the door but halted as the girl all but sprinted in. “Ah, I do hate to bring this up, but, well, you didn't pay for the advance service we gave you on Thursday, so, ah…”

“Oh!” Kaede blushed a little. “I'm terribly sorry. I've just been spending so much on the member's section of your Shinshitsu Shinji website that I lost track of everything I was paying for regarding my little Shin-chan. Please forgive me.”

“No sweat! But you do know our motto regarding checks and money orders: you write `em, you ride `im.”

“Of course, of course.” She shoved her purse at Misato and tore the bathroom door open. “Just take what you need!” She disappeared inside. A small male squeak of terror sounded, then all was silent.

“I'd better be getting a cut of the profits tonight, Misato,” Asuka called out over her shoulder, her eyes on the TV screen displaying Shinji adorned in the female-version plug suit save for several strategically cut holes. “I did give you the idea of the whole cosplay angle.”

“Yeah, yeah. I know. I am never going to forget those royalty negotiations. You'll get your money.”

She settled on the couch beside Asuka and let herself relax and enjoy the sight of a sexually anomalous Shinji being chased around the small bathroom by a very enthused young woman wearing a homemade command officer uniform.

“Say, Asuka-chan. When are you going to leave that control freak Horaki and come work for me? I know that girl singlehandedly runs the eastside sex rings but I have NERV behind me. It's almost a fair fight. Who cares if she's your friend.”

“Look,” the redhead grumbled. “Aside from the fact that Hikari is the only person I can call a friend without vomiting, you know my policy: oral and hand only. I'm saving my virginity for someone I at least give half a shit about. And I know you only deal in the hardcore stuff.” She gestured to the television screen.

“Well, yeah, I do but—” Misato stopped abruptly and stared, then shook her head. “Goddamn Aino. I told her to leave those studded paddles and spurred cowboy boots at home. She knows the rules by now. No outside toys. Geez.”

“… you're not exactly rushing to stop her though,” Asuka commented after several minutes passed.

“Well,” Misato said, her cheeks coloring, “I can't turn down a good show. Especially one I'm recording for posterity and my website. Besides, Shinji is used to hard play by now. Just look at that ass. Talk about punishment absorption!”

“This is why I don't work for you.”