Ploy

Ploy

Moments later, a blue-haired hottie with a skirt that nearly traveled up to her butt came barging in, gun in hand. "Everybody hands up- ah?"

She stopped short, taking in the scene before her. Team Rocket was already subdued, and the Pokémon Center was in disarray.

"What the...", she murmured.

Wow, what a timing, Officer Jenny.

...

A few more moments later

I was sitting on a table, sipping some sort of milk through a straw. Nurse Joy told me was good for my nutrition. And who am I to deny an angel's request.

I was watching as Jenny rounded up Team Rocket with some other police officers in a Van parked at the Pokemon Center's Gate. Jesse seemed to be looking at my direction with a narrowed gaze.

Sorry Jess, not this time, I thought while waving my hands toward her.

She just huffed and looked away. That caught Jenny's attention as she looked toward where Jesse was looking.

Smile and wave boys, smile and wave. Shaking her head, she turned back again.

Damn, that ass is really something, I thought, my eyes fixed on the officer's back assets. It seemed like it would spill out of those short skirts anytime now.

How does she even run wearing those, without them rolling up?

*creak*

Misty came and sat down on the chair beside the table, an ice packet in her hands, which she put on her forehead's swelling.

Apparently, one of my stray thunderbolts had flicked a cup at her head. Poor girl... I have to make sure to compensate her for that later... (lewdly, of course).

Misty turned to me, concern and a bit of curiosity etched on her face. "Ditto, what was that before? You just... exploded with thunderbolts!"

I shrugged, my Ditto face as innocent as could be.

"You don't know, do you?"

I nodded, my only response being a soft "Ditto."

Misty sighed, shaking her head. "Well, just don't try it again for now. God knows what will happen if you do."

Her lips are soft, her mouth's warm, and her taste? Absolutely divine. It's like a sweet and tangy explosion, with just a hint of lime. I'm talking citrusy heaven, folks!

By the time she snaps out of her daze and manages to push me back, I've gotten a good, thorough taste of her. I'm talking a decent sampling, if you know what I mean. And let me tell you, I'm not disappointed. Not one bit.

I break away, grinning from ear to ear, and Misty looks like she's about to implode. Her face is flushed, her chest is heaving, and her eyes are blazing with a mix of shock, confusion, and – dare I say it? – intrigue. Yeah, I've got her right where I want her.

Misty's face is still flushed from the kiss, and now she's furious. Her eyes are blazing, and she's practically spitting fire as she demands, "What the hell are you doing, Ditto?!"

I put on my most innocent face, trying to look like a Ditto-shaped angel. "I was just saying thanks," I say, my voice dripping with sincerity.

"M-my goodness, You can t-talk?!" Misty's eyes are wide with shock, her mouth hanging open like a gaping fish. I can almost see the gears in her head whirring as she tries to process the fact that a Pokémon is speaking to her. For a moment, she forgets all about the kiss and her anger, her curiosity getting the better of her.

I chuckle, a low, husky sound. "Not exactly, Misty. I'm just mimicking my body's movements and voice. You know, Ditto's special talent?" I give her a cheeky grin, enjoying the look of amazement on her face.

Misty blinks, still looking stunned, but then her expression snaps back to anger. "Wait, that doesn't matter right now! What I want to know is - " she takes a deep breath, her eyes flashing with indignation - Thanks?!" she repeats, her voice incredulous. "You think that's how you say thanks?!"

I shrug, trying to look as clueless as possible. "Well, I saw a lady do it to a guy earlier after saying thanks, and I thought that's how humans showed appreciation," I say, my tone completely deadpan.

Misty's face turns beet red with rage. "No, no, no! That's not how it works, Ditto!" she insists, her hands on her hips.

I pout, looking crestfallen. "Oh, looks like my thanks weren't enough," I say, my lower lip jutting out in a sad expression.

And then, before she can react, I'm back on her, my lips crashing down on hers again. This time, I'm not holding back – I'm kissing her like my life depends on it.

Misty's still trying to process what's happening, but I'm not giving her a chance to think. I'm too busy showing her exactly what a "Ditto" learned about human "thanks".

My tongue shoots out, but it doesn't stay as one - it morphs into multiple thinner tongues, all of which sweep across her mouth with a frantic intensity. It's like a mini-tongue army, overwhelming her senses and short-circuiting her brain.

1 vs many, and it was easy to guess what happens.

Misty's eyes go wide, her pupils dilating as she tries to process the sheer sensation overload. Her initial resistance begins to crumble, her body melting into mine as she succumbs to the Ditto-tongue assault..

My hands, meanwhile, have a mind of their own, snaking up to grasp her generous chest, kneading the soft flesh with an urgent enthusiasm.

I'm talking fingers digging in, thumbs circling, palms molding to her curves...

Misty's moans are barely audible, muffled by our lips, but I can feel the vibrations, sense her body beginning to respond.

For her, this is uncharted territory – the overwhelming onslaught of sensations, the sheer intensity of it all, is simply too much.