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From: artie <artie@netgate.net>
Subject: NEW: "Pumpernickel" (MF, ROM)
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"Pumpernickel" (MF, ROM)
by artie

© Copyright 1998 by artie
This work may not be reposted or redistributed without the prior express
written permission of the author.

	Thanks for reading this. There are a few things I should tell you
before you read too far. First, the title is misleading. Second, this is a
love story, a romance. Yes, it does have sex, drugs, blood, and death, but
it's a love story. If you're looking for mindless boinking read something
else. I do appreciate constructive comments.

	Are you still with me? As I said, this is a love story; Jenny
wanted me to write it. We work for a small software outfit in Silicon
Valley, doing magic with computer based neural networks. I'm the chief
scientist and one of the founders; I do the magic. Jenny heads our user
interface group. She makes our magic usable by mere mortals.

	One Friday morning we had some mortals visiting from the East
Coast; actually a very important bunch of mortals -- execs from a Boston
finance and arbitrage house. The cross product of our neural net magic and
their arbitrage magic makes a lot of money for both of us.

	When my boss Mary "asked" me to attend earlier in the week, I tried
to pass the opportunity to one of my team; I still needed to unpack after
moving into new offices. Mary told me no -- I was the lucky person. When I
mistakenly asked why, she started ticking off reasons: one, I was the chief
scientist and could be called "doctor;" two, I owned a tie which I would
wear for this meeting; three, I bathed regularly unlike some of my team
members; four, I would treat these valued clients seriously and with
courtesy... I stopped her after four -- unfortunately she was right, but
that's why I hired her and made her my boss.

	So Friday morning, which is normally an even more casual dress day
than the rest of the week, found me wearing a shirt and tie. Correction: I
was wearing a shirt with a very tight collar and a tie, and not enjoying
it. Adding insult to the tight collar was having to be in the office by
eight. Friday is also our bagel day. I hate getting to work before the
bagels.

	Just before our guests were scheduled to arrive I caught Mary in
the hall and asked her the subject of our meeting -- she usually briefs me
well in advance. She turned and put a hand on my shoulder.

	"Tom, there are two answers -- a bad one and a crazy but true one.
The bad one is they're here to discuss the Year 2000 problem."

	I took a deep breath -- this was nuts; we used Macs and didn't have
that problem. We could have handled this by mail. She held up her other
hand to silence me and continued.

	"The crazy but true answer is that it is mid Winter, we are located
in Palo Alto California enjoying wonderful weather, and these folks are
from Boston where the weather is currently very cold and very, very ugly.
Also let me remind you that these are the people that have made you filthy
rich and me quite comfortable." She emphasized "you" with a poke at my
chest. I got her point.

	I nodded and told Mary I understood; she smiled. I was definitely
the one to handle this.

	That didn't mean I was in a good mood -- before going into the
meeting I put a sign up over the spot where bagels would be set out: "Leave
me a bagel or else!"

	We had our meeting with the East Coast suits. As usual Mary was
right; they were here to thaw out and I was the right person to deal with
them. We gave them a weasel worded piece of paper from our outside
attorneys and they left for their next "meeting" down the coast in
Monterey. At least it was fairly painless; thanks to Mary we might even get
some follow on business.

	I scooted to the bagel tray. There was one lone bagel left, a
crummy one covered with seeds. It had a note on it "We love you too!" At
least some of the chili and sun dried tomato cream cheese was left to go
with it.

	I was howling in pain in my cubicle less than two minutes later.
One of those damn seeds was caught between my teeth and hurt like hell. I
was on my knees digging through boxes and looking for the one with my
personal stuff including the dental floss. Good news and bad news- I found
the dental floss, but forgot I was underneath a work surface piled with
boxes and equipment. I tried to straighten up. Whack! I hit my head, hard.
I saw stars and I guess I fell back against a pile of boxes.

	Now I'll go with Jenny's side of the story for a while. Her cube is
right next to mine. She heard me howling and swearing, then "a loud, dull
whack" (thanks, dear) and things falling over. She rushed into my cube and
found me dazed on the floor in a pile of boxes holding a package of floss.
She sat me up on the floor and managed to figure out I was in pain from a
seed stuck between my teeth. Helpful soul that she is, she held my head and
tilted it back to try and find the problem.

	Remember that tight collar I mentioned? Tilting my head back
managed to cut off the blood to my brain. After about twenty seconds and
with no warning I passed out. Jenny wasn't holding on to me that well so I
fell over and hit my head on the side of my development computer, which was
also on the floor.

	You know how to tell the engineers in a sea of cubicles? They're
the ones running half disassembled computers, live parts hanging out the
sides. When I fell, I hit my head on the side of my partially disassembled
computer and the very sharp metal edge of one of the disk drive brackets
sliced my scalp open. The good news was that it didn't hurt a bit as I had
passed out.

	Pretty erotic, isn't it? The next thing I knew, I was on my back in
the hallway with Jenny sitting on top of me. This had been something I'd
been trying to do for a while. She was holding my head -- this was getting
better. She was looking at me very concerned, and talking to me, asking me
how I felt -- getting better all the time. She had loosened my collar and
tie. I was feeling funky; no more pain in my teeth, so the seed must have
come loose, but my head hurt. I smiled and told her my head felt strange.
Having her sitting on top of me was great.

	Then she looked up and moved one of her hands and yelled at someone
to hand her something. I noticed her hand was covered with blood. Even with
a Ph.D., it didn't take me long to figure out that it was most likely my
blood and I got real dizzy again.

	Over the next few minutes she helped me sit up and bandaged my
head. With more help I ended up in her car and we drove to the local
emergency room. When I saw a nurse walking up with a look of concern, I
figured I had gone far enough and passed out again.

	The next thing I remember was in the emergency room with Jenny
holding my hand. My head was thick, numb, and it hurt. Jenny was smiling
and asked me how I was feeling. Another woman, the doctor standing beside
Jenny, asked if I remembered what happened. A brief discussion ensued in
which I learned that: (1) I now had eleven stitches in my head, (2) some
hair removed to show off the stitches, (3) a tetanus booster in my ass, (4)
they weren't worried about a concussion, (5) my blood pressure was too
high, and (6) I should go home and rest because they were busy and needed
the space for the latest roadway carnage arriving any minute and make an
appointment for next week to get the stitches removed.

	A few minutes later the doctor had given Jenny some drugs for me,
instructions for my immediate care, and I'd been put in a wheel chair and
hauled out to Jenny's car. Jenny handled the paper work and had managed to
wash the blood off her hands. I still had blood all over me and my only
long sleeve white shirt, and there was blood all over the front seat of
Jenny's car. The good news was my tie was nowhere to be found.

	We drove to my little house and she helped me out of the car and
into the living room. I was thankful the cleaning service had come the
previous day. She sat me in my favorite recliner and traded my bloody shirt
for a T-shirt. She flopped the recliner back after putting a towel behind
my head, and started my favorite CD playing -- an hour long recording of
surf. The drugs I'd taken at the hospital kicked in and I zoned out.

	When I woke up, it was a quarter after twelve. I was hungry and
what was even better, I smelled food!

	"You woke up just in time -- lunch just got here." Jenny helped me
stand up and we wobbled over to the table. It was set for two; hot and sour
soup, spring rolls, a few other dishes. Our usual Friday lunch was Chinese;
today it had come to us.

	"This is great." I told her. My head was still fuzzy. We talked as
we ate lunch together. She'd called work and let people know I was okay,
just not coming back in today. One of her people picked up lunch and some
other things for her and delivered them just before I woke up. When I asked
why we were drinking 7-Up rather than tea, she told me that caffeine was
officially off my diet.

	We had just finished lunch when her cell phone chirped. She picked
it up and had a short conversation. It went something like "Hi ... Lucy?
You can? That's great ... Two fifteen? ... Yeah, just off Waverly ... OK,
see you in a bit." I didn't know any Lucy. I did live just off Waverly.
What's happening here at two fifteen? I looked at the clock; it was
currently half past one. Time was doing interesting things for me today.

	As she came back into the room, I started to ask what was going on.
She gave me some more pills and more 7-Up to wash them down. Then it was
"Come on, let's take you to the bathroom, get you into something more
comfortable and get the blood scrubbed off you."

	She led me to the bathroom and actually pulled off my pants and sat
me on the can. I didn't know whether to laugh or cry at the sudden
attention I was getting. While she was rummaging in my bedroom I managed to
finish my needed business and pull my jockey shorts back in place. She
returned with an old pair of sweat pants in one hand. She looked around the
bathroom,  and said "No, we're better off in the other room." She grabbed a
washcloth, towel, and some soap, then led me by the arm back to the kitchen.

	She turned one of the kitchen chairs around and sat me in it
backwards by the sink, then pulled off my T-shirt and started the water
running. "I should get a picture of this -- you're a mess." I looked at my
shoulders and chest and saw dried blood: mine. Scalp wounds really bleed
like crazy. When the water warmed up, she took the washcloth and soap and
slowly and gently scrubbed the dried blood from my neck, shoulders, back,
and chest. It felt great. I was leaning against the chair, enjoying the
attention, and zoning out again.

	I had just gotten dried off and was almost asleep when the doorbell
rang. I looked at the clock; two fifteen. Jenny pointed to me and said
"Stay." Since I didn't think I could stand up, I made the executive
decision to let her get the door. "Hi, Lucy -- thanks for being available
on such short notice. Let's set up in the bedroom."

	Bedroom? Set up? What was left of my mind was curious and maybe
concerned. Jenny came back and helped me stand up, then took me into the
bedroom.

	Lucy was a gal in her mid 30's. She's thin with short brown hair, a
terrific smile, and incredible energy. She was putting a sheet over a table
of some kind, with thin wooden legs and a lot of bracing and wires
underneath.

	She extended a hand to me. "Hi, Tom, I'm Lucy. Have you ever had a
professional massage before?"

	Things started to click into place as I admitted I had not. Jenny
was really into massage, and had been trying to arrange on-site massage at
work for some time.

	Lucy told me "You are really going to enjoy this. Take off
everything but your briefs and get on the table, face down, please." Jenny
helped me. Both of them commented on the needlework on the side of my head.
"Now Tom, I want you to relax. Take a deep breath when I ask you, but
otherwise breathe normally. When I do something you like, let me know. And
if I do something you don't like, let me know and I will stop. OK?"

	I heard her ask Jenny "How would you like him?" Jenny replied "Al
dente." and Lucy laughed. "You've got it."

	I'd never had a professional massage before. After a few minutes I
knew I had been missing out on something. It was hard to believe how good
it felt to have Lucy massaging my back, neck, and shoulders.

	Not surprisingly, I zoned out again. Someone must have levitated me
to the bed; I know I couldn't have gotten there myself. I was extremely
relaxed, laying on my back on top of the bed. I thought "al dente" meant
flexible but still firm. I felt way too limp for that. I zoned out again.

	The next thing I knew, there were a pair of warm, soft lips on
mine. They were followed by a wonderful warm body on top of me. As we
kissed I ran my hands over Jenny's naked body. I tried to talk, but she
wouldn't let me, quieting me with her mouth and her tongue. She raised
herself up and brushed my chest with her nipples; the feeling was electric.
She let me kiss and suck each soft, warm nipple, and then she moved down
and pulled my underwear off. I could feel her nipples on me once again,
sliding slowly up my body. She came up between my legs, spreading them
gently. When she got to my cock, she teased me with her breasts, touching
me lightly with them, then grinding into me as I moaned and held her
shoulders.

	She slid up the rest of the way and plunged her tongue into my
mouth, grinding her hips into me, straddling me and pulling my legs
together. I stroked her sides, ran my hands through her hair, and filled my
soul with her perfume. Then, with one motion, she took me into her and
started sliding back and forth on me. I moaned; it had been so long. She
whispered "Relax and enjoy." I certainly did, but not for very long. I
started moaning as I felt myself getting to the edge; her motion slowed and
strengthened and we kissed passionately.

	I came deep inside her; quickly. After a while when she pulled her
lips away from mine, I opened my eyes again and started to say "I'm sorry
..." She told me "Shhh. It's all right." and put a nipple in my mouth. I
fell asleep with her holding me.

	Afterwards, laying side by side, I told her "This is a dream come
true. Why did we take so long?" We lay together and talked until the sun
went down. When she first started at the company, I was still getting over
Karen. She was with David. When she broke up with David, I was still
getting over Karen and didn't respond to her advances. When my dad died she
wanted so much to help, but I tried turning to Karen again. When I finally
turned my attention to her, she was rightfully pissed and ignored me. The
last few months had been chaos, getting code delivered to customers,
financing, a new building, business plans. Neither of us knew why we didn't
connect at the last company party.

	Whatever the reasons, they were in the past. We spent the rest of
the weekend touching, talking, some times crying, and making love. We
talked about our past. We talked about the company. We talked about our
customers. We talked about each other. We also never left each other's
touch for very long. I had forgotten how important it was to touch and hold
someone, and be touched and held.

	There was one thing I didn't do that entire weekend. I had one
bedroom set up as an office, complete with computers, laser printer, fax,
you name it. I walked to the door once; I think it was late Saturday
afternoon. The door was closed and a hand lettered sign was taped to it:
"Off limits!" I felt Jenny's hand on my shoulder. I turned to her and she
told me "If you feel the urge to go in there, it means we haven't made love
enough." We kissed and managed to make it back to the bed.

	We were two very different people when we showed up at work on
Monday morning. Mary had called about half past eight to see how I was
doing. Jenny answered the phone; I think this surprised Mary. Jenny told
her I was doing well, and we'd be in a little past nine.

	My car was still at work, so Jenny drove us in. We walked in
together from the parking lot. As we reached the door, I stopped and turned
to her. "Do I have the same incredible smile that you do?" I asked. "You
should." she told me. We hugged and got in one more kiss before we went in.
I felt as if I was glowing. I know she was.

	It was funny; people would come up to me to ask how I was doing.
They would see the two of us together, or see the look on my face, and they
knew. Some would ask anyway.

	Mary caught us in the hallway. She looked at me and smiled. "Gee,
you should slice your head open more often if this is what it does for
you." She gave Jenny a big hug and zipped back to her office.

	When we got to our cubicles, I looked carefully at the carpeting;
not a spot to be seen. I was surprised. Greg, who sits on the other side of
me, saw me looking around. "Mary had a crew out here by lunch time cleaning
things up." He handed me a square of carpet with a large stain on it. "I
saved you a souvenir. They said the easiest way to clean things up was to
replace the stained chunks."

My office had been organized; boxes unpacked and computers set up. Some
wiseass left a bag of marbles on my chair. My development machine was
nowhere to be seen. "What happened to my hacking box?" I asked. Greg
smiled. "You're getting a new one. Slice-o-matic got cannibalized, the
parts that you didn't bleed on at least." "Where did the disk drives go?" I
was worried; a lot of my life was on those drives. "Don't worry," Greg told
me, "I have your drives, and we backed up everything; you won't lose a
thing. You're getting a brand new speed demon and the same configuration
for home. Just noodle on the net for a while and get caught up on mail --
I'll take care of things."

	Over the next few weeks my life took on a new definition of normal.
I'm sorry Jenny, our lives took on new definitions of normal. For the first
week I wasn't allowed to drive. Mary told me not to drive and Jenny had my
car keys hidden. We were thrown out of the office by five thirty and locked
out on weekends. I had a very thorough physical examination at Mary's
insistence; my first in years. Mary and Jenny both read me the riot act
when the results came in. No more caffeine, more rest, more exercise, learn
to delegate more and rely on Greg, Lois, and Mike -- these were some of my
marching orders. Mary was serious; if I didn't shape up, she was going to
throw Jenny and I out for at least two weeks on an enforced vacation and
make sure our dialup access was blocked. I think I surprised Jenny; I know
I surprised myself: I told Mary I'd behave, and felt that we'd probably be
taking some time off together, maybe not soon, but certainly by the end of
the year. Jenny sucked in air and grabbed my hand. Mary just smiled. We
didn't talk about that particular conversation for months.

	A month later things were looking much better. My blood pressure
was down without medication. Jenny and I took walks together daily, longer
ones on the weekends. She had also moved in with me. What had taken me so
long to see how wonderful she was and how much I needed her? We also had
Lucy over once a week for massages. I really looked forward to it, and very
quickly noticed when my back or shoulders got tight. I surprised Mary by
asking to bring in an ergonomic specialist to help me rearrange my work
area. I surprised her even more at our monthly all hands meeting by
recommending that we make on-site massage available. Jenny's interface
group broke into cheers and applause; I got several really good hugs. I
guess I had been the one holding this up.

	At home, our lovemaking was wonderful. After the stitches came out
of my head I could go down on Jenny the way she loved. The first time I
went down on her, she got jabbed in the thigh by suture ends, and also
opened up my injury a little. Of course we were distracted and didn't
notice until later.

	She has been so patient in teaching me how to please her. She also
has the most amazing ability to get me dizzy and turn off my mind when
we're making love, or even when she's just holding me. Living together,
having someone to hold and to hold me has made a big difference. I finally
felt the place I lived in was becoming a home, not just a house. Hearing
her tell me how much she needs me to hold her fills me with feelings I've
never known before.

	One of the things she really enjoys is getting me after Lucy had
finished giving me a massage. Lucy would leave me incredibly relaxed with
my brain pretty much disconnected. Then Jenny would climb on top of me and
drive me crazy, leaving me drained. We would drift off to sleep in each
others' arms. I asked her about it; I was concerned that while it was
incredible for me, I wasn't lasting long enough, doing enough for her. She
really surprised me by telling me I was much more responsive and passionate
after Lucy finished with me. We agreed I needed to learn to let go. Jenny
was definitely the person to teach me.

	We didn't get any follow on work from the East Coast suits that
precipitated this wondrous mess. We got something better; they gave our
name to a British house. It took weeks to get the confidentiality
agreements worked out; these high flying arbitrage types are very
secretive. After the first week though, we were certain we'd arrive at an
understanding, so Jenny and I started talking to Peter, the leader of their
technical crew. By the time agreements were in place, it was clear we
needed to visit. Jenny and I would need about a week working technical
matters, then Mary would fly in to beat out the business details.

	Jenny and I were apprehensive when we met with Mary on this
proposal. We were quite surprised when she agreed with it, and even more
surprised when she said we could go only if we agreed to some conditions.
Jenny and I looked at each other. Conditions? We asked Mary what she had in
mind. She smiled and told us that we had to fly first class, and we had to
spend at least three weeks away from the office. We had to give her a
detailed schedule of our trip so she could be sure we took enough time off,
and she would work with Peter to insure we actually took the time off. We
smiled and held hands; Mary was turning this into an enforced vacation,
reminding us that we hadn't taken any time off in too damn long.

	We worked out an agreeable schedule. We would fly out on the 6PM
Virgin Atlantic nonstop Friday evening, arriving Saturday noon in the UK.
That would give us until Monday morning to get our minds and bodies back in
synch; we planned to spend the time in London, possibly museum hopping. We
had both visited London before, so we knew how to get around.

	We packed Thursday night, and Greg took us to work Friday morning.
He even managed to run some important errands for me. After our usual
Chinese lunch, the afternoon was a party; Mary hugged us both and Greg took
us to the airport. Since we were flying first class, check in was a breeze.

	The flight was great, the flight was boring; the flight was long.
We both took medication and slept about seven hours. That left us a few
hours to explore, talk, snuggle, and kiss. One of the crew asked if we were
newlyweds. I was quite surprised when Jenny piped up with "Not yet!" I
guess it was pretty obvious how serious we were. Every time Jenny got near
my carry on bag, I was terrified she was going to find the box with her
engagement ring.

	Heathrow was a mess; some things never change. We got through
immigration and customs and had planned to catch the tube to our hotel in
the South Kensington section of London. When we left the Customs area, I
started pushing our cart to the tube station when Jenny spotted a chap
holding a sign with "Dr. Miller Dr. Chang" written on it. Peter had hired a
car to haul our weary bones into town. We were really looking forward to
meeting him. The ride was gray and drizzly; perfect weather for this time
of year -- we wouldn't be bothered by tourists.

	Jenny was thrilled at the place Peter had picked for us. It only
had about twenty rooms; ours was delightful. The staff was great; it was no
wonder Peter's firm put visitors here. From the time we walked in the door,
they knew who we were, and always called each of us "Doctor."

	We were standing in our room at about three thirty in the
afternoon, our bags delivered and most things put away. We had a small
bottle of champagne and a note from Peter to call if we would be interested
in joining him for dinner Sunday evening; otherwise he looked forward to
meeting us in his office Monday at ten.

	We decided the best way to reset our biological clocks to London
time was to shower, make love, and then walk around scouting dinner. We had
a great shower. We toweled each other off, and I turned down the bed and
got in. It was wonderful to be horizontal again; I closed my eyes and my
head buzzed. Jenny joined me; as she approached the bed I could tell she'd
put on perfume. She knows how much I enjoy going down on her, especially
right after a shower, and she certainly seems to enjoy it as well. She was
warm, delicious, and responsive as I kissed my way down between her legs
welcoming her to London. I had just started on a second welcome when she
pushed me away and on my back. She straddled me and buried my face between
her perfumed breasts. I moaned and gave in, letting my body respond to
hers. It was incredible; the combination of being in London, jet lag,
champagne, and the wonderful woman I was with that had me dizzy and in
another world. I had never experienced an orgasm like that. As I held her I
felt Jenny shudder on top of me as she came once again.

	We fell together and kissed. I would have loved to have just gone
to sleep in her arms, but after a few minutes she kicked me out of bed. We
got dressed and headed downstairs to walk around and visit the world.

	We walked around in the cool gray London mist, arm in arm. We
looked in shop windows, hugged, and quickly learned to look both ways
before crossing streets. Our exploration and a recommendation from the
staff led us to an Indian place for dinner; Tandoori of Chelsea on Fulham
Road. By the time we finished a very leisurely meal, we were once again
wiped out. We stepped briefly on to the street and decided to take a taxi
back to the hotel -- we were tired and lost.

	We were greeted by the ever helpful staff, who inquired about our
meal. We thanked them; it was very good, and I knew we would go back. Jenny
also commented about one of the shops we'd passed, Smallbone, and how she'd
like them to redo our kitchen. "Our" kitchen? I laughed and gave her a hug.

	We went up to our room and made love again, gently, quietly. We
went to sleep in each other's arms. It's hard for me to believe how much I
need to hold her, and how much I need her to hold me. I can't explain the
feeling I get when she tells me she needs me to hold her as well.

	I awoke about three in the morning; she's still asleep as I write
this, updating the last couple of hectic days. I had a brief chat with
Peter before we left; he's arranged something special for us at Stonehenge
through a Ministry friend. We'll be taken in a couple hours before they're
open to the pubic, and will be able to walk amongst the Stones. That will
be the place I ask Jenny to marry me.

	That's the story so far. We agree on a lot of things. We disagree
on a lot of things; the title of this story, for example. Jenny thinks it
should be "Sesame" -- as in sesame seed and "open, sesame." She says that
seed opened my eyes, my heart, and both our lives. I agree, but still like
"pumpernickel," but that's because I'm boorish and male and it appeals to
the sex fiend in me. You decide.

FINI

"Pumpernickel"
by artie@netgate.net




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