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From: "Rev. Cotton Mather" <revcottonmather@hotmail.com>
Subject: {ASSM} Oolong at Midnight, Chamomile at Dawn (MF) by R.C. Mather
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Date: Thu, 03 May 2007 20:10:01 -0400
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Rev. Cotton Mather
Senior Pastor,
Church of the Erotic Redemption
http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/ReverendCottonMather/www
http://www.storiesonline.net
www.ruthiesclub.com

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**If I had to do it all over,
I'd do it all over you**

<1st attachment, "oolong.txt" begin>




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Welcome to the Church of The Reverend Cotton Mather.  This story is
the sole property of the author, and may not be copied or downloaded
for the intent of profit. Permission is freely given for anyone to
download or copy for their personal pleasure or use, as long as
there is no intent to charge money or barter for the privilege of
acquiring this material.

   (Copyright 2005, R.C. Mather)

E-Mail all comments to RevCottonMather at hotmail dot com
Don't be shy!  I enjoy hearing from you.

---------------------------------------------------------------------



OOLONG AT MIDNIGHT, CHAMOMILE AT DAWN

The First Mona Youngblood Story

by R. C. Mather




Mona Youngblood had a good view of her apartment from her hidden
vantage point. Which is, of course, the point of hiding for
advantage. Or, in this particular case, hiding for safety, since
there was an intruder standing not six meters away from her.

Having worked for several years on the fringes of society and the
law, Mona had the foresight and the resources to extensively remodel
this apartment. There was a very good wall safe behind an oil
original in her bedroom. Inside the safe she kept a couple thousand
U.S. dollars; the equivalent in British pounds, francs, lira, pesos,
and euros; exact replicas of some of her better-known jewelry pieces;
and cloth pouches with garnets and cubic zircona in them. The safe
was vulnerable to a dedicated and knowledgeable thief, but would
deter a garden-variety robber. She had it installed as a decoy,
thinking of the contents as easily expendable and replaceable. Her
reasoning was that anybody who found this safe would immediately set
to work to open it, thereby giving up searching and possibly
accidentally finding the real valuables, hidden away in an excellent
safe that was buried in the floor of her pantry under a crate of
potatoes. It would take a large explosion and heavy equipment to
compromise that safe, something that residing on the seventeenth
floor of her building helped to prevent.

There were a few other surprises in the apartment as well, not the
least of which was the hidey-hole she was comfortably ensconced
within. It was, in effect, a command center, a tiny room just big
enough for a futon, a small stocked refrigerator, a secure telephone,
and a monitor controlling the hidden cameras in the kitchen, the two
bedrooms, the living room, and the entry hall.

She could also see her entire living room from the louvers and
peepholes in the wall of her soundproofed enclosure if she wanted a
more personal view that her cameras couldn't give her. She could keep
close track of her would-be thief quite comfortably.

In addition, there was a false panel in the ceiling. A simple hotkey
sequence on her computer would silently lower an aluminum staircase
into her safe room. The staircase would lead to the apartment
directly above her, which she also owned and used as a guest
apartment. From that apartment she had provided for several options,
including raising the ladder so that it became effectively hidden
from below or, for an extreme situation, electrifying the ladder. The
safe room in the eighteenth floor apartment was a near duplicate of
the one below, including camera feeds. The situation she found
herself in today, however, didn't cause her to feel like she would
require her escape route.

Mona was not at all nervous or scared. If anything she was curious,
wondering what this familiar man might be thinking, what he might be
expecting to find. She smiled as she replayed the recent incidents
that, now that she could reflect on them, had led them both to this
particular moment.



*****



It all started (she thought) at the party at the gallery owner's
apartment on the eighth floor about a month before. It was rumored
that Sir Elton was going to be there, so of course the apartment was
crowded beyond its capacity. And, of course, Sir Elton never did show
up. This disappointment for the gallery owner in no way affected
Mona. She wandered around the apartment, admiring the wall hangings
and paintings on display. Her practiced eye critiqued and valued the
objets d'art, her mind automatically calculating the resale values,
the costs to move each piece, and the list of potential buyers and
brokers she knew by heart.

This apartment, however, was off-limits to her, seeing as it was in
the same building as hers. She found herself casing it out anyway,
more out of habit than anything else. It was good exercise for her,
as it helped her keep her focus.

As she was studying a minor Dali piece, she was bumped.

"Ah, pardon me," a refined New England accent said.

Mona turned toward the voice. A tall, quite handsome man was
fumbling with three drinks, trying desperately to keep from spilling
them all across the carpet.

"Here, let me help you with that," said Mona laughingly as she
reached to take one of the drinks from him. He gratefully released
the drink into her custody, and smiled sheepishly.

"Thank you so much. It's not exactly the first impression I would
have chosen, but..." He hesitated. "I'm Joshua Rush, by the way." He
waited expectantly.

"Desdemona Youngblood. Everybody just calls me Mona, though," she
replied. "Where are we going with these?" She indicated the drinks
they were holding.

"Oh! That's right! Sorry about that," said Joshua with a start. "My
friends are in the next room." He stepped aside, allowing Mona to
walk first through the passageway. He pointed with one glass toward a
couple looking out the window. "Over there," he said.

"Art, Peggy, I'd like you to meet Mona," Joshua said by way of
introduction as they came up to his friends. "She was gracious enough
to help me refrain from dropping these drinks all over the carpeting
in the sitting room," he added.

Over the next hour or so, she learned that Art and Peggy Summers
were married, they were both lawyers, and they were customers of
Nathaniel Grant, the art dealer who was their evening's host. Art and
Peggy had dragged a reluctant Joshua out to the party. "His
girlfriend left him months ago, and he's practically become a hermit
since," confided Peggy one time when Art and Joshua went off in
search of a new bottle of wine. "He does something with computers, so
he was able to work a lot from home, and I'm afraid all that solitude
has been detrimental to his self-esteem."

Mona found herself moderately attracted to Joshua, but the last
thing she wanted was an entanglement with someone on the rebound, so
she kept a firm rein on her emotions. Joshua, on the other hand, was
gazing at her with unabashed lust, undoubtedly fueled by the wine.

Mona was amused and a little flattered to be the object of such
simple adoration. She found herself leading him on just a little:
standing or sitting so he was seeing her better profile, holding her
shoulders just a little straighter, hiking her dress up
surreptitiously, just enough to accentuate her long legs, reaching
out to lightly touch his hand or his knee when making a point.

You are a shameless flirt, Mona, she chastised herself several times
during the evening. But old habits die hard.


*****


The man standing on the other side of the wall was dressed in black.
Turtleneck, soft cotton slacks, socks, and sneakers were all a
uniform black. He certainly dresses the part, Mona reflected as she
secretly observed him.

The man in black looked around the room, pivoting to take in what he
could from his vantage point. Once he was satisfied he had seen what
he needed to see, he walked to the door of the guest bedroom, careful
not to touch anything yet.

He stood in the doorway for several moments, studying the room.
Mona, watching now through the monitor, saw him nod to himself, as if
confirming a suspicion. The man stepped over to the doorway to Mona's
bedroom and paused for just a moment before stepping into the room.

Again the man stood in one spot, near the foot of the bed, and
studied the walls, the floor, the ceiling, and the furniture, as if
gauging their weight or their worth. He still refrained from touching
anything, though he was tempted to go to the Deborah Budney painting
of the carousel horse above the dresser. It looked very much like an
original.

He refrained, however, testing himself against the temptation. He
reluctantly looked away from the oil painting and checked the rest of
the room. What he didn't see interested him nearly as much as what he
did find.


*****


Mona's father was Jim Traveler Youngblood, a Lakota Sioux from South
Dakota who owned a string of package liquor stores in small towns
around the reservations and the military installations. Her mother,
the former Audrey Felicia Glendenning, held an engineering degree
from M.I.T. in Propulsion Systems and a Ph. D. in Aeronautics,
courtesy of the United States Air Force. It was a case of rocket
science meets tribal sachem, a match destined to burn hot and flame
out fast, a pairing to go down in history both among the Native
American tribes around Rapid City and among the rocket jockeys at
Ellsworth.

Before the flameout, there were two children produced by the union.
Desdemona Loretta Youngblood, named for maternal ancestors by her
mother, and her two-years-younger brother, Edward Sees Far
Youngblood. Jim Traveler named his son Edward so others could call
the boy by a name. Shortly after Edward's second birthday, his father
and the tribal elders gathered together to give the boy another,
secret name, and Jim Traveler gave his son the additional name of
Sees Far to commemorate what he considered to be Edward's gift.

Of course, Mona also got a Lakota name, unbeknownst at the time by
her mother. She still used it to identify herself in her prayers to
her God. It was a name known only to her, the Lakota elders involved
in her naming ceremony, Jim Traveler, and God.

Jim Traveler and Audrey divorced when Mona was eight years old.
Audrey took the children and moved to Houston to work with NASA, but
Jim Traveler got custody of them every summer. He worked hard for
nine months out of the year, through the brutal winters of the
Dakotas, so he could spend the entire three months Mona and Eddie
stayed with him, teaching his children of their heritage.

Each year they camped and traveled all through the West. The three
Youngbloods spent a week at Wounded Knee, culminating in the rodeo
and powwow held the first weekend of August each year. They canoed
the upper Missouri River, following in the tracks of the Lewis and
Clark expedition. They portaged to Shoshone Lake in Yellowstone,
where they camped for days, tracking elk and moose, fishing each
morning for their breakfast.

Jim Traveler taught them to listen to the wind and pray to the moon
and the stars. He told them many tales and legends of the Sioux and
the Cheyenne, the Apache and Comanche. He taught them about the great
warriors, Chief Joseph and Crazy Horse, Geronimo and Cochise and
Black Elk, and perhaps the greatest of the later chiefs, Tatanka
Yotanka, known to the white man as Sitting Bull. He cried in the
night with his children as he told them of the betrayals and
deceptions their people endured.

Each summer Mona listened, and she learned. Her father taught her
how to move quietly through woods and fields, so quietly the mule
deer and the jackrabbits did not mark her passage. She grew strong
and tall under his tutelage, returning to Texas every year leaner,
happier, and more confident than before.


*****


As the man carefully looked about the apartment, Mona watched him.
She studied him just as he was studying her apartment.

"Why are you here?" she whispered to the monitor. She took a sip of
water, unscrewing the top from the bottle without taking her eyes
from the images displayed before her.

The man stepped back into the living room and walked over to look at
the big salt-water tank that was set into the wall between the living
room and the spare bedroom, Mona's "office." He bent low and stared
at the gravel on the bottom, watching the colorful fish flash
gracefully in and out of the artificial coral artfully placed in the
tank. Was he looking for patterns in their movement?

Did he really think she would be so obvious as to hide something in
the fish tank, a la A Fish Called Wanda? Really.

The man stood straight again, shaking his head. He must have had the
same ridiculous thought.

Mona watched as the man pulled a pair of latex gloves from his rear
pocket and slipped them on, snapping the wrists into place.


*****


The summer Mona turned twelve, Jim Traveler took his family to a
ranch in eastern Montana, and he taught the kids to ride. Eddie was
ten, a typically rough-and-tumble Texas kid who had watched way too
many Westerns on television. He hopped onto his cow pony, an
experienced and crafty workhorse named Buster, and began whipping at
it with his long reins. The pony, just shy of fifteen hands tall and
older by half than Eddie, just looked back at the boy on his back.

"Giddyap," shouted Eddie. He tried kicking the pony with his boot
heels, but Buster didn't budge.

"Whoa there," said Randall, one of the ranch hands. He strode up and
grabbed the reins away from Eddie's hands. "Don't go beating on this
here pony. You've got to earn his respect if you want him to work for
you. Here," he continued as he tied a knot in the two long leather
reins and handed them back to Eddie. "You hang on to these by the
knot, and don't go waving them around. Me and your pa will show you
how to get him to move for you in a minute. Okay?"

"Sure," Eddie said. He was still tempted to whip the reins like the
cowboys did, but he was willing to wait.

Mona stood to the side and watched it all. She was tall and thin for
her age, all skinny legs and big feet, and tanned to a deep brown.
Her hair, so black and sleek it almost had a deep blue sheen to it,
was tied back at the neck for comfort. It was gathered in a beaded
hasp decorated with dyed turkey feathers that hung down her back in
her hair. Unlike Eddie, she was naturally graceful and athletic,
though she never would have agreed with anybody who might have told
her she possessed such traits, particularly at that age.

Randall brought out another horse, this one for Mona.

"This here is Wichita," said Randall as he adjusted the stirrups for
Mona. He glanced over to the girl, and Mona nodded. She was paying
attention.

Mona stepped up into the stirrup and swung into the saddle. She
settled comfortably and picked up the reins, careful not to startle
the gelding.

"You've ridden before, haven't you." It was more of a statement than
a question, but Mona nodded anyway.

"So has Eddie, but he's a boy," she said shyly.

Randall chuckled. "So he prob'ly wasn't paying no attention," he
said. Mona smiled and nodded again.

Randall gave both kids some basic instructions on steering,
stopping, and staying centered over the horse. He concentrated on
Eddie, feeling confident Mona would be paying enough attention to
understand the lesson. Once he was satisfied Eddie knew enough not to
get himself hurt on Buster, he left them in an empty paddock to
practice turning at the walk.

In a few moments Randall and Jim Traveler came out of the corral
with horses for themselves. They both stepped up into their saddles.
Randall, who looked as if he was born with a horse between his legs,
led them off across the hardpan flatland, heading for the foothills.
Eddie kicked Buster into a slow trot behind Randall, his elbows
flapping in the hot breeze as he envisioned riding with Crazy Horse
across the landscape. Mona posted efficiently behind Eddie, content
to let Wichita choose his own speed, and Jim Traveler trailed, making
sure the kids were okay as they headed toward the hills.

That was the same summer Jim Traveler started working with both kids
on self-reliance. Every evening, around the campfire, he would teach
them. He enlisted the help of Sioux experts at Wounded Knee and
Little Bighorn, and he called on the cowboys he knew to pass along
their own brand of wilderness craftiness. The two children learned
not only survival and defensive techniques, but also first-strike
opportunities. They began to learn many of the old skills, starting
with bows and arrows, knives, and lances, and progressing to rifles,
handguns, and hand-to-hand combat.

It was a learning process that would continue for years.


*****


Mona watched as the man walked over to her dining cabinet, which was
against the wall and facing into her living room. He opened drawers
and extracted silverware, setting the pieces carefully on the top of
the base cabinet. After emptying a drawer, he would examine the
pieces, and then replace them carefully back into the drawer, taking
care to leave everything just as he had found them. He took his time,
and he wrote copious notes in a small notebook he took from his pants
pocket.

Once he was finished and everything was replaced, he stepped back
and looked critically at the furniture piece.

"Is he thinking of trying to move the furniture out, too?" Mona
muttered as she watched him. That was audacious, to her thinking, but
she was willing to reserve judgment until she knew more of his
intentions.

The man moved into the kitchen and took a long-handled fork out of a
drawer. He used the fork to stir the canisters of flour and sugar on
the counter, checking to see if there was anything of value hidden.

"Nothing there, was there?" murmured Mona to the monitor. She
smirked just a little, feeling he might be just a little frustrated
over not finding anything there. "Much too obvious," she whispered to
him, though she knew he couldn't hear her.

Her heart beat just a little faster when she saw him examining the
cut glass decanters of extra-virgin olive oil, red wine vinegar, and
clover honey she kept on the kitchen counter by the refrigerator. She
had seen him looking at the Baccarat crystal decanters on the top of
the dining cabinet, but she could deduce he would know that these
kitchen jars were much more ordinary. He slid them out from the wall,
gave them a cursory look, and slid them back to their places. He
washed the fork off, dried it, and replaced it in the drawer. He
carefully wiped the sink dry with a paper towel, which he then folded
into a small and neat square and put in his pants pocket. He didn't
want to leave any evidence of his presence behind.

He stood back and examined the kitchen once more before moving on.
He bent down to make sure there was no telltale dusting of flour from
his careful stirring. Once he was satisfied there was nothing to be
seen, he moved on to Mona's bedroom, finally allowing himself to
indulge his curiosity about the oil painting he had seen there.


*****


A week after the cocktail party, Mona was pleasantly surprised to
get a voicemail from Peggy Summers.

"Mona? Hello, dear. Listen, Art and I are supposed to be taking
Joshua out for dinner on Saturday night, but we're having a little
trouble convincing him to come. Could I impose on you to join us? If
Joshua knew you were going to be there too, I'm positive he would
even get dressed up for you. Besides, we would love to see you again.
Please call me back, and I will give you the details about the
restaurant and all that. Ta!"

Mona couldn't help smiling as she replayed the message. So I'm to be
his social worker, am I? For some reason, the thought didn't disturb
her nearly as much as it should have.

She returned Peggy's call to let her know she would be happy to join
them on Saturday.

Mona took a long time getting ready for her evening out. She had
worked all the way through Friday night, acquiring some small but
expensive South American carvings for a customer. She had finally
gotten to bed about six in the morning after enjoying a cup of
soothing chamomile tea, and didn't get up until almost three on
Saturday afternoon.

The hours always sounded worse than they actually were, even to
Mona. By this time she was used to the odd hours she kept.

Like a courtesan, I do my best work at night, she thought as she
tilted her head to put her earrings in. She smiled at her image in
the mirror. She was dressed in a sleek and shimmering black dress
with spaghetti straps that reached to just above her knees. She had
on patent leather heels with a tiny heel strap that had cost over
$200. Her elegantly long throat was accentuated by the single strand
of pearls, which set off her dark skin tone beautifully. Her long,
black hair nearly reached her waist, silky, straight, and unfettered.

The buzzer from the lobby intercom sounded, and she pressed the
button to answer.

"Mona?" It was Peggy's voice.

"Yes, I'll be right down."

"We'll be in front, in the car, dear," said Peggy.

Mona switched off. She gave herself one last quick once-over in the
hall mirror, and grabbed a short jacket as she opened her door.


*****


She watched from the security monitor as the man examined the
Budney. He peered at the painting closely without touching it,
studying the signature, the brush strokes, even the frame. In spite
of himself, he was impressed. Helluva painting to use as a decoy, he
thought. He knew what lay behind the painting. He took the oil off
the wall and examined the wall safe. Helluva safe, too, he said to
himself. Not good enough, though. He knew that, given enough time, he
could open it. Hell, he and two other guys could just cut out the
wall and haul the thing off, and he could open it at his leisure. It
was probably just bolted to the studs.

He twisted the dial to see how easily it turned. If it wasn't a well-
maintained mechanism, it would feel a little sticky. It spun freely,
though. He turned the dial so that it was in the same position as he
had found it. He was a careful man.

He replaced the picture and began to methodically go through the
dresser, looking for goodies and hidden compartments. He softly
whistled happily as he emptied Mona's clothes onto the floor, keeping
everything in proper order.

Mona was not happy about watching him going through her lingerie,
but she wasn't in a position to stop him-yet. At least he isn't being
prurient about it, she told herself. He was being neat and orderly,
not pawing through everything. From watching him in the living room
and the kitchen, she knew everything would find its way back into her
drawers, just the way he had found them.

It took him nearly two hours to thoroughly examine Mona's apartment,
and she watched him the whole time. She was moderately surprised he
had resisted taking anything at all. Finally, he strode to the front
door, paused for one last look around, and then opened it just a
crack. He peeked out, making sure the hallway was empty, and then he
opened the door wide. He punched in her security code to reactivate
her alarm and, without a backward glance, left the apartment.

Mona waited another fifteen minutes before emerging from her safe
room. She knew he would be back. She looked forward to the challenge
he was unknowingly presenting.


*****


By the time she was sixteen, Mona felt equally at home in downtown
Houston and in the Black Hills. She moved soundlessly and efficiently
in either environment. She was tall and strong, confident and a
little bit aloof. Jim Traveler knew it was time to advance her
education.

Mona was already quite familiar with reservation life, and she was a
little disdainful of the despair so many Sioux families experienced.
That was all about to change.

Eddie was staying for several weeks out on the ranch in Montana. Jim
Traveler took Mona with him to visit some of the broken-down bars
scattered across the landscape of the Dakotas. She met some of the
most distasteful wrecks of humanity alive in some of the dives, and
she endured the salacious looks of dozens of broken men. Jim Traveler
seemed not to notice the leers his daughter was attracting, though
Mona knew better. Her father noticed everything. He merely chose to
ignore them.

Even one time, in a dingy tavern on the outskirts of Cherry Creek,
when an old and toothless codger brushed his gnarled fingers up the
back of her thigh, Jim Traveler seemed not to notice. Mona's skin
crawled at the old man's touch, even through her jeans, but she did
her best to ignore him. When he reached for her leg a second time,
perhaps encouraged by her lack of response, she whirled and reached
out. The old man, startled, jerked his hand back, but it was too
late. Mona grabbed his fingers and flicked her wrist. The man cried
out hoarsely and scrambled to his feet, trying in vain to take the
pressure off his middle two fingers, which Mona had captured and bent
painfully backwards. She held them firmly, about two ounces of
pressure from snapping them.

The old man, standing straight up and on his toes, his eyes wide,
the pain and surprise showing clearly on his unshaven face, managed
to croak, "Easy there, honey, I didn't mean no harm..."

Jim Traveler leaned one elbow on the bar and turned to watch Mona
and the old man. "Hello, Frank," he said quietly. "I see you've met
my daughter."


*****


That first night out to dinner with Art and Peggy started out
poorly. The conversation, despite Peggy's efforts, coughed and
wheezed in fitful starts and stops, reminding Mona of a Max Sennett
comedy.

Finally, though, the very good wine (a wonderful conversational
lubricant) contributed to a much more comfortable setting, and Mona
felt the tension trickle down from her neck and shoulders. Just as
importantly, she noted Joshua was sitting in a much more relaxed
posture.

He's a very nice man, she decided. He's just as unsettled about this
date as I am.

Much, much later, after late-night cocktails at The Top of the Town,
a revolving nightclub in a downtown skyscraper, Art and Peggy finally
declared their exhaustion. Mona, because of her odd hours, still was
feeling quite refreshed, but she made sympathetic noises and
suggested they call it a night.

Surprisingly, Joshua didn't look any more tired than Mona. He must
keep odd hours because of his computer work, she told herself.

In the back seat of Art's car, Joshua quite naturally took Mona's
hand in his. He placed their intertwined fingers on his knee, and
they rested there quite comfortably for the rest of the ride back to
Mona's building.

At the entrance, the doorman was quick to open the back door, and
Mona gently took her hand back. She leaned forward and lightly
touched Peggy's shoulder.

"Thank you for a perfectly lovely evening," she said with a smile.

Peggy turned a little in her seat. Her eyes were beginning to really
show her weariness, but she smiled easily. "Can we get together again
soon?"

"Of course," replied Mona. "Call me in the morning?"

Peggy nodded. Art blew her a kiss goodnight, and Mona slipped from
the car.

"Just a moment," called Joshua. He stepped from the other side of
the car and leaned back in to speak to Art and Peggy. "Can you give
me just a moment more? I'll walk her at least to the elevator."

"Of course, dear," said Peggy with an indulgent smile.

Mona was taken a little by surprise, but she accepted Joshua's arm
as he walked her through the front door of her apartment building.
She was a bit unsettled, her mind twisting around. Will he try to
kiss me? Will I let him?

The moment came upon her more quickly than she had anticipated,
however, and her body took over. Joshua put his arms around her waist
and stepped into her personal space. He lowered his face to hers, and
gently gave her a soft kiss on her lips.

Very nice, she thought distractedly. Before she could do more than
accept his kiss, he stepped back again.

"May I see you again?" he asked.

Mona smiled. "Call me," she whispered.

Joshua smiled, a big, happy, uncomplicated look, and he reached over
and pressed the call button for the elevator. Mona couldn't help but
feel a touch of affection, touched by his openness. She stepped into
the elevator car and watched Joshua watching her as the doors closed.
She smiled and shook her head as she was lifted to the seventeenth
floor.


*****


Jim Traveler carefully guided Mona into the seamier side of life in
what was still considered to be the American frontier.

"I don't want you to be scared if you find yourself lost somewhere
you shouldn't be," said her father. "You got to know what's out there
so you can prepare for the worst."

Mona was surprised her father knew so much about the Indian
Underworld, as she came to think of it. The subculture of thievery,
cons, and legbreaking was very troubling to the girl, but she trusted
her father completely.

That trust was not misplaced. Jim Traveler watched over Mona, ready
to step in if necessary, but willing to stand by and let her work out
her own situations whenever possible. After the first few forays, he
never again had to interfere. Mona was tough, skilled, courageous,
and confident, attributes immediately recognizable-and, generally,
feared-where she now strode and learned.

It was surprising what these people knew. From art and jewelry, to
cars and cameras, they could judge worth in seconds. There were
experts in software and security systems in the most unexpected
places, and Mona learned how to find them. And then, she began to
learn what they knew.

Jim Traveler was calling in a lifetime of favors to give Mona the
best education he could. He just hoped Audrey never found out about
it.


*****


Mona and Joshua were meeting that night for cocktails at D'Arcy, an
elegant bar with a great view of the skyline. Mona took her time
getting ready, brushing her long black hair and carefully applying
her makeup. She decided on a red cocktail dress she had been saving
for an occasion, and she opted for garters and silk stockings instead
of more pedestrian pantyhose. She wasn't sure if Joshua would be
granted the opportunity to appreciate her undergarments, but just the
feel of the silk on her legs made her think sensual thoughts. She
smiled to herself as she slipped on high heels that complimented her
purse.

She gave herself one last critical inspection in the full-length
mirror mounted on the back of the closet door in her spare bedroom.
She leaned in toward her reflection and used the ball of her thumb to
rub at the tiny lines in her skin between her eyes. She was vain
enough to notice the wrinkles, but not so conceited as to take any
drastic measures to get rid of them.

"I've earned them," she murmured. She smiled at her reflection; her
reflection smiled back.

She turned and walked to her front door. She tapped in her new
security code, waited for the red light to flash, and she closed the
door firmly and walked the few steps to the elevator.

In the back seat of the cab, she took out her compact and made some
last-second adjustments to her eye shadow. She noted the cabbie
glancing appreciatively at her in the rearview mirror, and she smiled
inwardly. Like any woman, she appreciated compliments, even silent
ones from strangers. She crossed her legs, feeling the silk slide
smoothly, luxuriating in the sensation.

She was fashionably late when she walked into the bar. It was not
conceit, but rather a lifelong habit of not wanting to attract more
notice than was usual for an attractive woman. And a woman such as
Mona, sitting alone at a bar, would certainly draw a good deal more
attention than she would ever want. A person in her profession just
didn't want to be remembered for very long.

Joshua, who had been anxiously watching the front door, stood when
he saw her enter. He felt something thump in the pit of his stomach
when he saw her, and he distractedly noted how sweaty his palms had
become.

He also noticed how heads turned as she walked toward him, eyes
naturally following her. It made him swell up a little, knowing this
woman was coming to him.

He stepped over and held her chair out for her, and she sat with
graceful elegance. He fumbled a little with his napkin as he took his
own seat, a little nervous now that she had arrived.

Mona, sensing his nervousness, glanced out the window. "A beautiful
view," she said.

Joshua looked from Mona to the cityscape laid out below them, and
back again. "It is, yes," he agreed.


*****


By the time she was twenty, Mona had accumulated a lifetime of
surreptitious knowledge. Along the way, she managed to also
accumulate a sizeable bank account, courtesy of the fences and
resellers who were coming to rely on her skills.

She had already moved to the city, but in her youth and inexperience
she was still trying to live on the cheap. She had a dingy apartment
on the North Side, in a nondescript neighborhood that should have
attracted nobody's attention.

But, one night, it did.

Mona felt fortunate she was out that night. Around midnight she had
fixed herself a cup of oolong tea, her ritual beginning to what she
thought of as her "workday." When she was finished, she cleaned up
her kitchen, walked into her bedroom, and changed into her work
clothes for the evening: a black tee shirt with a pocket on the left
breast, a pair of black cotton pants, black socks and black shoes
with rubber soles. She carefully tied her hair up, pinned it in
place, and put on a black billed cap.

On one of her nocturnal scouting missions, Mona had come across a
small office and warehouse with a sign that read, "Morganstern
Costume Jewelry." What intrigued her about the setup was the security
system. It was a much better system than one would expect for a
costume jewelry warehouse. Mona suspected there were items of greater
value inside than the sign indicated, and she was determined to check
it out.

She was able to circumvent the security, but when she finally got
inside the main office, she didn't even find a decent safe. After
searching the entire space carefully for hours, it became apparent
the place really was a costume jewelry warehouse. She was
disappointed, but not heartbroken.

The heartbreak didn't come until she got home. She found her front
door splintered, her apartment ransacked, and her belongings strewn
across the floor. The contents of all her drawers had been dumped on
the floor and trampled, and the drawers themselves were piled
haphazardly next to the overturned bed.

Mona checked her hiding places, but she knew whoever had gone
through her place had found her valuables. Her stereo and television
were gone, and so were the microwave and her coffeemaker. Her small
stash of uncut gems, in a resealable plastic bag that had been taped
to the inside of the toilet tank, was gone, and so were the original
oils from her walls. The robbers didn't seem to realize the value of
the two plain glazed bowls she found intact, however, artifacts from
the Jin Dynasty of China, dating from the Twelfth Century. She
carefully picked them up and returned them to her bookshelf.

She also found, to her surprise, the intruders missed the two small
envelopes of cash she had taped to the inside header of her bedroom
closet. Even though her clothes and shoes were all over the bedroom
floor, apparently they never looked up at the walls. She ripped the
envelopes down and riffled the cash, delighted to have kept at least
a few of her treasures from the unknown robbers.

The next afternoon, her old place temporarily boarded up, Mona went
apartment shopping.


*****


Drinks at D'Arcy was followed by dinner at Bentley's. After the
dishes had been cleared away, Joshua was sipping from a large snifter
of good brandy, and Mona was enjoying a chocolate martini.

"You never did tell me what you do," said Joshua as offhandedly as
he could. He was, in fact, intensely curious, having gotten no clues
neither from Mona herself, nor from Art and Peggy.

"Oh, my work is terribly boring," said Mona with a deflecting smile.
"But you were telling me about encryption methods?"

"Ah, yes, well..." Joshua knew he was being expertly redirected, but
he went along with it. He was curious, but he was also very patient.
"Actually, if you are interested in a nightcap, I could show you what
I was talking about. I have a couple of my computers set up so I can
demonstrate tunneling mode encryption." He took Mona's hand in his
across the table. "And I have a very good white from France cooling
as an enticement."

Mona laughed, and gently extricated her hand. "All right," she said
with a smile.

Joshua was the perfect gentleman on the way to his apartment, but he
was obviously very nervous. Mona smiled to herself, even though she
was disinclined to do anything to assuage his nerves. I'd rather keep
him on his heels than thinking he has an advantage, she reasoned.

Once they arrived at Joshua's place, computers and VPN tunneling
were forgotten. Joshua got out a bottle of wine and rummaged in his
kitchen drawer for a corkscrew, while Mona drifted around his living
area, looking at the framed photos on the walls.

Joshua brought two glasses over and handed one to Mona. The look on
his face, anxiousness and an overwhelming desire to please, melted
her resolve. She reached for the glass, but before she took it, she
gently placed her fingertips on his wrist.

"Shall we enjoy the wine in another room?" she suggested.

She felt his hand tremble, which pleased her even more.

"Of... of course," he stammered.

Mona took the glass from him and raised one eyebrow at him, an
expression of Well, then, lead on. Joshua took the hint, held out his
hand for her, and led her deeper into his apartment. When they got to
his bedroom doorway, he reached for the light switch, and then
changed his mind. He brought her into his room and turned to her.
Mona stepped in closer to him and put her free hand behind his neck.
She pulled him down-or did she pull herself up?-and kissed him for
the first time.

The first kiss-Oh!-that magical first time, it never failed to send
thrilling shivers down Mona's spine. The first time with Joshua was
no different, and just as exciting as her first kiss ever.

After their kiss, Mona stepped away. She glanced at the bed, noted
which side the alarm clock was on, and stepped over to the other side
and set her glass of wine down. Joshua stood where he was, rooted to
the floor, and watched her. She came back to him, smiled, and turned
her back to him.

"Unzip me?" she asked, looking over her shoulder at him.

He brushed her hair aside and, seemingly all thumbs, worked at
finding the tab to the zipper of her dress. He managed to pull it
down about halfway when Mona stepped away from him and turned to face
him. In the gloom of the darkened room, her red dress glowed faintly
as she pulled the thin straps from her shoulders and held the
material to her bosom with crossed arms.

Joshua finally came to himself, shaking himself free of the
mesmerizing sight of Mona in his bedroom, and he reached for the
straps of her dress. Mona allowed him to pull them away from her,
letting go so he could take control. He gently pulled her dress down,
uncovering her, until he could let it go. The dress fell to puddle
around her feet, and she stood there for him, in her panties, garter,
and silk stockings, sensuous in her near-nakedness.

Joshua drank in her beauty. Her hair, thick and dark against her
shoulders, her breasts enticing, what yet lay hidden exotic and
desirable.

"Wow," whispered Joshua.

Mona sat on the bedspread and crossed her elegant legs. "Could you
help me with these?" she asked, nodding toward her legs.

As if coming out of a daze, Joshua jerked, and then hastily knelt on
the floor by her. He hesitantly reached for the tops of her
stockings, running his hands along her thighs, appreciating the sheen
of the silk. He unsnapped the garter from the stocking of Mona's
right leg, and then he carefully rolled the top down her leg, taking
care to keep from snagging the delicate fabric.

Mona lifted her leg just a little, enough to allow Joshua room to
roll her stocking over her knee and down her calf. As he exposed her
knee, he bent over and gave it a soft kiss.

"Mmmmm," she sighed, and she caressed the back of his head for a
moment in appreciation.

"I haven't seen a woman in garters and stockings in I don't know how
long," Joshua murmured as he rolled the stocking down her ankle,
around her heel, and off her foot.

Mona smiled. "Maybe you have, but didn't realize it."

He glanced up at her. "I would have noticed," he said confidently.

Mona switched legs, giving him access to her left leg, and he bent
to work unsnapping and rolling. Again, Mona lifted up her leg enough
for him to roll the stocking down, but this time she left her legs
uncrossed and slightly parted, a quiet invitation.

Joshua waited to impart his kiss to her left knee until he had
completely removed her stocking and set it carefully aside. He took
liberties with her knee, with her thigh, and with the material of her
lacy panties as she allowed him to gently push her legs a little
further apart.

Joshua finally couldn't resist any longer, and he allowed his
fingertip to run lightly along her covered slit, feeling her heated
moisture beginning to soak through her panties. Mona took in a deep
breath, delighting in his touch, and then she moved away from his
questing fingers and lips by scooting back onto the bed. She lay
back, legs slightly akimbo, and beckoned to him, and he responded. He
clambered up beside her, took her in his arms, and made Mona forget
all about the intruder she had watched in her apartment earlier that
afternoon.

Joshua was a considerate and confident lover. Long before his own
climax, he pleasured Mona, giving her several releases with his
fingers, with his lips, and with his tongue. When, at last, she
practically begged him to enter her, he knelt between her splayed
legs, kissed each swollen nipple, and then held the sides of her
head, looking deeply into her eyes, as he flexed against her, found
her slippery and ready opening with the purple head of his rod, and
he shafted into her completely. It was almost enough to send Mona off
again. She concentrated on holding off, though, until he was ready.
She wanted to feel him splash against her velvet walls, letting the
hot liquid gift trigger her body into its biggest and best climax.

And when it came, when Joshua's eyes rolled to the back of his head
and he drilled into her hard, there was only room for one disjointed
thought among the fireworks in her mind: It was worth the wait.


*****


Her search for an apartment was a real eye-opener. It didn't take
much time for her to understand she needed a lot more cash than she
had available. She found a place in a more secure building, but she
knew it was temporary. She didn't even bother with decorating beyond
a minimal amount. Instead, she concentrated on working her contacts
for more contract work.

She did, however, invest in a very good safe. She contacted some old
friends from out West to come and install it for her. She didn't want
to entrust the work to anybody she didn't know.

She worked very hard, every night settling into the same routine.
About the time the nightly news was wrapping up, she was fixing
herself something light to eat. She spent about an hour doing yoga,
and then fixed herself a cup of oolong before going to her
destinations.

When she returned from her forays, the first thing Mona would do was
secure her acquisitions. Then, she would soak in a hot bath. By the
time the sun was coming up, she was brewing a nice cup of chamomile.
She would watch the sunrise through her balcony door, and then listen
to the early news as she enjoyed her repast. She would then pull the
shades, disconnect the telephone, and sleep quite soundly until the
afternoon.

It was a simple life, and she loved it.

Within a year, her diligent hard work paid off. Mona was able to
purchase not only the seventeenth-floor apartment she had had her eye
on, but also, with her mom's help, the apartment directly above it.
It had come on the market suddenly, and she hastily formed a dummy
corporation to disguise the ownership of it. She didn't want any
records showing her name on both places. She had used public records
often enough in her career to know how easily useful information
could be extracted. She also knew how to throw off any but the most
diligent searchers with misleading names, corporate identities, and
hidden trusts.

She waited to move in until the remodeling was done. Her hours did
not allow her to live within her own construction zone. She contented
herself with spending each afternoon at her new place, watching over
the installation of the safes, the security system, and the other
surprises she had devised. Her contractor wondered about the
unfinished walk-in closet off the living room, but she told him she
wasn't sure what she wanted done with it as yet. He shrugged and
forgot about it.

After all the other work was finished and the tradesmen had packed
up their tools and equipment and gone on to their next job, Mona made
a call to South Dakota. A week later, two carpenters, a plumber, and
an electrician showed up. Mona showed them the drawings she had
personally done, and they began the alterations she required. They
stayed in the apartment and worked fifteen-hour days, and they
finished both levels in ten days. Mona paid them in cash, and they
quietly left town, taking the secrets of Mona's apartments with them.


*****


The next evening, Mona watched the scenes on her big-screen
television from the comfort of her eighteenth floor apartment. She
was lying, quite relaxed, on the leather couch, dressed casually in
gray sweats with cobalt blue trim, and sipping a glass of sauvignon
blanc. She had her security cameras networked into the big screen,
and she was watching with some amusement as the man in black, her
returning intruder, struggled to open the safe in her bedroom wall.

He had carefully set aside the painting and was using an electronic
eavesdropper to try to detect the movement of the tumblers. He had
been at it for about thirty minutes, and he was beginning to get
anxious over his lack of success. Mona could see his shoulders
tightening as he tried, over and over, to stumble across the correct
combination.

She was videotaping the feed, of course. The tape player went on
when the movement sensor by the front door was tripped. The code Mona
used on the keypad to activate and deactivate the alarm system also
controlled the tape player. The code the intruder used, though it
deactivated the alarm, did not shut down the recorder.

Finally, with a jerk of the handle, the robber managed to open the
safe. Mona watched as he first examined, and then pocketed, her cash.
He looked critically at the jewelry, and even took the pieces into
the bathroom for better light. He ended up leaving them in the safe.

"So he knows his gems," murmured Mona. She took another sip of wine
and continued watching.

The robber closed the safe and gave the dial a spin. He then reset
the dial to the exact position in which he had found it, and then he
carefully put the Budney back over the safe on the wall. He
straightened out Mona's bed, and gave the spread one last brush of
his hand in apparent satisfaction. He stood in the doorway and looked
the room over one last time, making sure he had left no trace of his
intrusion. He nodded to himself, and then he turned and walked to the
front door. He opened it slightly, peeking out into the hall, and
then he reached over and reset the alarm with his stolen code. The
red light blinked, and he left Mona's apartment, closing the door
firmly behind him.

In a few minutes Mona knew the tape player had shut itself off. She
left the apartment, took the elevator one floor down, and used her
key to open the door of the seventeenth floor apartment. She entered
the proper security code. She walked around the apartment, just to
make sure her visitor had not returned while she was in the elevator,
but he was nowhere to be found. She smiled to herself and went into
the kitchen. Just to make sure, she told herself.

She put on a pair of latex-free medical gloves. She pulled the
plain, cut-glass decanter of honey closer to her. She opened the lid
and reached in.

"There," she said quietly. She felt the lumps at the bottom, and she
knew her bag of cut diamonds, taped to the bottom, was safe.

She knew the rubies were safe, too, but she made sure. She stripped
off the honeyed glove and threw it into the sink. With her other
gloved hand, she reached into the decanter of red wine vinegar. The
rubies were there.

She replaced the lids, put the decanters back where they belonged on
her kitchen counter, and she collected both gloves. She wrapped them
both in plastic, and then newspaper. She put the bundle into a
garbage bag, and on her way out to meet Joshua, she dropped the bag
into the incinerator.

Late that night, after a good dinner and a better bottle of wine,
Mona and Joshua made love in his apartment. Mona made sure Joshua was
well sated.

The first time, they never made it past his living room floor. After
a brief rest, Mona stood and motioned for Joshua to stand. Naked, she
led him to his bedroom, where she pushed him down onto his bed and
climbed on. She rode him until she felt his climax, and then she
callously used him to achieve her own orgasm.

She finally collapsed beside him, but she didn't let him fall
asleep. She played with his worn-out cock until she could coax life
back into it. She felt him slowly swell to nearly his full length,
and then she went down on him. She licked and sucked on his shaft
until her jaw tired, and then she used her hand to continue to lift
him to his finish. When he started grunting and pushing his hips
against her hand, she resumed with her mouth, intent on giving him an
explosive ending.

He pressed his hands against the top of her head as he came, and he
gave her all he had to give. She took his small offering, swallowing
his semen and licking him clean, until he had softened and shrunk.

She lay beside him as he fell into a deep sleep, and she waited for
an hour before getting up. Unconcerned about the prospect of waking
him, Mona turned on the bathroom light to give herself some
illumination. She pulled back the carpet in the corner of the
bedroom, revealing his floor safe.

"You really should buy better safes," she whispered, glancing over
to the unconscious, unaware Joshua.

She had the safe open in about five minutes. She removed the
envelopes of cash she found inside, one envelope each of U.S.
dollars, British pounds, francs, lira, pesos, and euros.

"Touch�," she said softly, saluting Joshua with her envelopes. She
left the safe open and wandered out to the kitchen.

"I wonder if he has any chamomile tea," she said to herself as she
began rummaging through his cabinets.




THE END


Written by R. C. Mather
Edited by Mycroftxxx
Thanks go out to Ruthie's Club for first publishing this story!
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