Message-ID: <19338eli$9901250527@qz.little-neck.ny.us>
X-Archived-At: <URL:http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/Year99/19338.txt>
From: cyan@anon.nymserver.com
Subject: {ASSM} Repost TG: The Lab - Ch. One 2/2
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d
X-Note: This message was posted by a secure email service.  Please report MISUSE OR ABUSE of this automated secure email service to <abuse@anon.nymserver.com>.
Path: qz!not-for-mail
Organization: The Committee To Thwart Spam
Approved: <usenet-approval@qz.little-neck.ny.us>
X-Moderator-Contact: Eli the Bearded <story-admin@qz.little-neck.ny.us>
X-Story-Submission: <story-submit@qz.little-neck.ny.us>
X-Original-Message-ID: <78gnqq$bs7$1@sparky.wolfe.net>



"The Lab" by Rebecca A. (TG, MF, FF)

This is a story I will produce a new chapter of (hopefully) every two 
weeks or so.  It contains some fairly mild sex, but if you're under 18 
etc... it's not for you.  Those of you looking for lots and lots of sex 
will probably be disappointed, since it is petty tame stuff for the most 
part.

Feel free to archive or otherwise distribute, provided it (and this 
preamble) is unedited and no fee is charged for access.  This story may 
not be distributed from any site that charges money, is members-only, or 
uses that ridiculous "adult check" thing (or any similar system).

All rights reserved by the author, who can be contacted at 
cyan@anon.nymserver.com

I hope you enjoy it.  Please let me know.

Becky

***

The next morning I woke at dawn, and immediately wished I 
hadn't.  I was scrunched up in the back seat of the Bonneville, 
with an enormous headache.  My whole body ached.  I hadn't had a 
hangover like that for years.  I gritted my teeth, got into the 
front seat of the car, drove home, had a quick shower and got to 
work only half an hour late, still feeling awful.

Tom rang me about Midday, sounding bright and alert, at least 
much more so than I felt.  Debbie, the receptionist, had been 
diverting calls from me all morning in deference to the way she 
knew my head felt.  Debbie was inclined to that kind of 
lifestyle herself from time to time, so she sympathised.  But 
she put Tom's call through, probably on account of Tom sweet 
talked her or something.  Tom was great at that kind of stuff, 
and shameless about it.

Tom wasn't hungover much at all, and he kidded me about being 
old and not being able to take it.  This was a longstanding 
routine with him rather than anything serious.  I was a whole 
month older than Tom.

"Hey, big time stuff happening here", Tom said quietly after 
we'd kidded for a minute or two more.  "Whoever that Winters guy 
was last night, he was important.  There have been all sorts of 
weirdos in suits looking over his lab all day, and they've 
emptied out the rest of that section while his lab materials are 
being analysed.  I don't know what it was he was working on, but 
the company sure is making a fuss about salvaging his stuff."

I wondered idly whether Tom should be telling me this stuff on 
the phone, given the general paranoia that we'd seen exhibited 
last night by the Dawe security teams.  "I guess you're right", 
said Tom, and I realised I'd been thinking out loud.  "Anyway, 
I'm only telling you because you were there".  He changed the 
subject, and we agreed before he hung up that we'd meet on 
Sunday and I'd help him with some work on the house he'd bought 
earlier in the year, a run-down old place 'with character' over 
in the bad part of Venice.  

By Sunday, though, I still felt bad.  I'd kept a low profile on 
Saturday, taking a few aspirin and having a quiet day mostly 
spent on the couch watching the football.  I had planned to go 
out to dinner with a couple of other friends, Marty and Denise, 
but I cancelled in the afternoon.  By Sunday morning I was 
convinced I probably had some kind of flu.  My headache raged, 
and my joints ached.  I gingerly unwrapped my bandaged thumb, 
because I was worried the cut might have some kind of infection 
that was giving me a fever, but it looked fine.  Dr Adams had 
cleaned it thoroughly.  I re-wrapped it as best I could, took 
more aspirin and called Tom to cancel.

He came around that evening with Carol, a girl he'd been dating 
on and off for the past few weeks.  Carol was gorgeous, if a bit 
vacuous, but she kindly brought along some chicken soup, which I 
gratefully ate.  They didn't stay long as they were headed for 
the movies, but Tom made me promise to go see a doctor again the 
next day.  I was sceptical.  I was never a fan of antibiotics 
unless I was desperate.

The next morning I was feeling a lot better.  Still not one 
hundred percent, but much, much better than I had been over the 
weekend.  I was relieved.  No need to go see the doctor.  
Tuesday I was pretty much back to normal.  One or two minor 
aches in my joints, but I figured that was just because I was 
stiff from laying around the house so much.  I jogged a little 
in the morning and felt even better.  So Tuesday night I went to 
meet the cute doctor.  I cleaned out the Bonneville first, 
getting rid of several months worth of accumulated rubbish.  I 
even had it washed while I was at work.

She looked great when she opened the door.  There was that smile 
of hers again.  I was a sucker for it.  She was wearing a full 
white skirt and a coffee-colored silk blouse that draped across 
her breasts beautifully.  It was unbuttoned enough to give a 
hint of cleavage.  I tried not to stare.  I didn't usually leer 
at women, but she was gorgeous.  Plus I was a foot taller than 
her, so it was hard not to look down her blouse.  

We headed off for a quick bite to eat, and then a movie.  She 
told me over dinner that she liked to be called Catherine 
instead of Cathy.  "Only my family calls me Cathy, and that's 
just because my Dad doesn't realise I'm not fifteen any more".  
Catherine seemed genuinely interested in me, and I sure was 
interested in her.  There was something about her that kept all 
my senses attuned.  It was almost like the first few dates I'd 
been on when I was a teenager.  

The movie was pretty terrible, but I didn't much care.  It was 
good just being beside her.  We went for coffee afterwards and 
we did the 'getting to know you' conversation.  I told her about 
my childhood as the son of a machinist in Detroit, and she told 
me about being the daughter of a rich gynaecologist in Beverly 
Hills.  We came from completely different worlds, yet we seemed 
to have something in common, even if I couldn't quite figure out 
what it was.

As I drove her home to her apartment up on Doheny I was trying 
to psych myself up to do the right thing, play it cool, don't 
rush it.  I usually rushed things, it was kind of hard not to.  
But I felt like I was onto a good thing with Catherine.  So I 
walked her to the door, like a gentleman would, without crowding 
her.  When we got to her apartment she turned, and raised her 
head slightly, and I bent down to kiss her goodnight.  It was 
only a brief kiss, but there was definitely electricity there.  
Her body was humming.  Mmmm.  Strangely I got kind of 
embarrassed after the kiss, and she smiled again.  I said 
goodnight, and drove home, flying.

As I went to bed that night I could do little but think about 
her.  She had me entranced, that was for sure.  I hadn't felt 
that way about a woman, that unconscious connection, since 
Shelley, and even then it hadn't been this strong.  I knew there 
was still a lot I had to learn about Catherine, but I was 
looking forward to learning it.

We saw each other again, on the Saturday.  I asked her to come 
to a party at Tom's.  She was a big hit with everyone there, and 
I felt pretty pleased with myself, being able to show off this 
sexy and smart woman who was with me.  There are few feelings 
quite as good for a man as that.  

The week after Tom's party I started to feel tired a lot.  
Really tired.  I went to bed around nine most nights during the 
week.  Tom and I had taken to playing tennis away from Dawe at a 
club over on the west side since our little experience a few 
weeks earlier.  On this Thursday night I just felt so weary I 
had a hard time playing.  My control was all over the place, and 
my concentration was worse.  Even Tom noticed it -- that was 
rare for him considering he had won our match, so he was puffed 
up about beating me again.  He ribbed me about going soft, but 
then reflected that I really hadn't played at my best.  I only 
had a single beer afterwards at the bar.  That was okay with 
Tom, I think he was embarrassed to see the waitress he'd taken 
home a few weeks earlier.  She looked at him like he was a 
greasy spot in the booth we were in, and he tried to pretend he 
didn't know who she was.

After the beer I had a difficult time driving home.  It was 
tough just keeping my eyes focused on the road, I was so tired.  
I wound the windows down, even though it was raining, and still 
found it hard to keep the Bonneville in one lane of the 10.  I 
must have weaved across the road once or twice, because 
eventually a cop waved me over.  That woke me up.  He didn't 
believe I'd only had one beer, but I tested clean enough so he 
gave me a stern lecture about being careful and let me go.  I 
eventually made it home okay, but I slept in my clothes on top 
of the bed.  I was too tired to take them off.  

My tiredness persisted through Friday, and Saturday morning it 
was all I could do to drag myself from bed at 11.00 am.  
Saturday night Catherine and I went out again.  This time I took 
her to a nice restaurant, an upscale place over in Santa Monica.  
The food was fantastic, and she was her usual charming self.  
She wore a short black dress which showed off her body 
beautifully without being too revealing -- in fact she was the 
classiest looking woman in the restaurant.  Two small emeralds 
in her ears and a thin gold bracelet on her arm, no other 
jewellery -- she almost looked as though she'd never grown up in 
LA at all.  I was entranced, watching the delicacy of her throat 
as she talked, her hands making small graceful movements from 
time to time as she illustrated her conversation with them, and 
the way her eyes sparkled when I managed the odd witty comment.  

At about the time dessert was on the way I started to feel 
myself getting weary again.  After dessert I even found myself 
missing one or two things she said.  Eventually I must have 
given her an inappropriate response to something she'd said, 
because she said sharply "stop me if I'm boring you or 
anything".

I was mortified, and I guess the shock on my face must have been 
apparent to her, because her look of impatience with me changed 
to one of concern.  "Oh, god, Catherine, I'm sorry.  I don't 
know what's wrong with me.  I've just been so incredibly worn 
out lately.  Really.  I mean I just don't have any energy 
lately, and the more sleep I get the more I seem to need.  I'm 
really sorry".

Her expression softened.  I paid the bill, and we left.  
Catherine offered to drive, but I wasn't sure about that.  Part 
of me told myself to be careful -- although I had only had two 
glasses of wine with dinner I was very tired again.  But I had 
some doubts Catherine would be able to manage driving the 
Bonneville, especially since she was so petite and the power 
steering pump had given up the ghost earlier that day.  Still, a 
few miles along I knew I had to pull over.  Catherine took the 
wheel and started driving.  She almost had to stand to turn the 
wheel a few times.

"What's wrong with me?  I'm not usually like this" I mumbled as 
I was drifting off.

I woke late next morning in my own bed, clad only in my 
underwear.  Catherine had obviously used my keys to let us both 
in, but there was no sign of her.  I grabbed a robe and tousled 
my hair to try to wake myself up.  When I staggered to the 
kitchen I found her sitting at the kitchen table, wearing an old 
football jersey of mine which hung on her like a tent.  She had 
made herself some coffee, and when I came in she got up from the 
table to pour me a cup, too.  She set it down in front of me.  
"I don't usually sleep at a guy's house this soon in a 
relationship", she smiled.  "But I didn't want to drive that car 
again, and I figured you were pretty safe last night".  I 
noticed, looking through the doorway into the living room, that 
she'd made the couch up as a bed, and had obviously slept in it 
last night.  

We talked for a while, and I told her that my tiredness had 
started the week before, and was definitely not typical.  I had 
always had a lot of energy, and these symptoms were very 
distressing to me.  She told me I should have some tests done, 
and get another full blood workup and see if there was any kind 
of viral infection or anything like that.  I kept apologising 
for the night before.  What I had planned to be a nice romantic 
evening had turned into a bit of a disaster.  Inside I was also 
mentally kicking myself -- I'd had this gorgeous woman in my 
apartment all night and hadn't even tried anything!

I wasn't tired that morning, though.  I walked over to Catherine 
and put my hands on her shoulders, then bent down to kiss her.  
She stiffened a little at first, then relaxed.  I stood up 
again, and she got up from her chair.  I put my arm around her 
and bent once again to kiss her.  It was intense.  She felt 
warm, and soft, and her skin had a faint muskiness that drove me 
on.  After we'd kissed a few more times I looked deep into her 
eyes.  She met my gaze, then looked down, as though a little 
shy.  Then she tilted her head back to me, her eyes closed, her 
lips slightly parted.  I raised my hand to her breast, feeling 
the nipple respond quickly to my touch as I caressed it.  She 
was breathing more heavily, and brought her hands from around 
the back of my neck to my shoulders.  As I caressed her breasts 
with both hands she let out a soft moan, and I quickly scooped 
her up and took her to my bed.  

I pulled the football jersey over her head and laid her down on 
the bed, then slowly dragged her panties down her legs, teasing 
her with my fingers as I did so.  She was gorgeous, soft skin, 
milky white, not tanned and going-to-be-leathery like all the 
other Westside women I'd met.  The curve of her thighs up over 
her hips was breathtaking.  

I peeled off my robe and could see her taking in my body, too.  
I took off my jockey shorts and lay on the bed beside her, 
stroking my hand over her delicious curves, teasing her nipples 
gently.  As I kissed her I reached into the beside drawer and 
retrieved a condom, and as I fumbled to put it on while still 
touching her with my other hand I felt her take it from me and 
gently stretch it over my shaft for me.  From kissing her mouth 
I moved down to her neck, that beautiful neck, and behind her 
ears.  She let out a deep sigh when I did this, and I noticed 
her adjust her hips.  

I kept kissing her, moving my mouth slowly down her body, over 
her chest to her breast, to her nipples, which were quite large 
and a dusky pink, working at them with my tongue while I stroked 
the inside of her creamy thighs with my hand.  I moved my mouth 
further down, over her belly, her perfectly-formed navel, to the 
dark, curiously soft down between her legs.  She parted her legs 
and I gently put my tongue into the sweet musk of her, licking 
gently until I found her clitoris amid the moist delicate folds.  
After a few moments she moaned a few more times, quietly, 
distantly.  I intensified my efforts and she began to move her 
hips.  As my tongue was beginning to get weary she bucked a few 
times, and grasped my shoulders firmly as she came.  I kept 
licking at her, and she kept coming, again and again.  

The time seemed right, and I felt like I would burst anyway, so 
I moved back up the bed, kissing her taut nipples again as I did 
so, licking the fine sweat that had gathered on her breasts, and 
came into her, gently at first until I could feel her muscles 
grasp me, then more firmly.  She brought her legs up around my 
back as I moved inside her, feeling the rhythm of her hips as I 
plunged deeper, hearing small soft animal sounds from her mouth, 
thinking I had never felt a woman who seemed so alive, so 
passionate.  I pulled back for a moment, so as not to come too 
soon, but she tightened her legs around me and pulled me back 
toward her.  I couldn't hold it much longer, and as she 
tightened her pelvic muscles by moving her legs further toward 
my shoulders I came, staggeringly, in an enormous spasm that I 
thought would take everything from me, that would end 
everything.  She clasped me tightly, and shuddered herself, and 
we collapsed on the bed beside one another.  

We lay there for a long time, both cloaked in sweat and one 
another's scents.  I traced gentle patterns on her breasts and 
throat and drew my fingertips up over her face.  After I touched 
her nipples a few more times she came once more, and begged me 
to stop.  I took her in my arms and held her while the winter 
sun streamed through the timber venetians, making fabulous 
patterns on her gorgeous body.

"So much for being tired", she said softly, and smiled.

We didn't leave my apartment till much later that day, having 
made love several times more and explored one another's bodies 
in that greedy, hungry way new lovers do, both giddy with the 
newness of each other and the sweetness of the sex.  She 
surprised me the second time we did it, sitting astride me and 
bucking like a wild thing when she came, as though she thought 
the world might end and she needed all of me at once.  I hadn't 
seen that kind of intensity before, and it got me more excited 
than I'd ever been.  I took her again after she came, and thrust 
myself hard and fast into her, deeper than I'd ever been, until 
we both came again almost in unison.

Neither of us had eaten all day, so at around 6.00 pm Catherine 
suggested we should head out for a very late lunch or early 
dinner.  We each showered separately -- having had so much of 
her already, I thought the least I could do now was offer her a 
little privacy as she freshened up.  

She was dressing as I came out of the shower.  "I'm afraid I'll 
be a little overdressed for anything casual", she said, as she 
began pulling on the black dress she had worn the night before.  
I suggested we swing by her place on the way out to eat and she 
could change.  

Catherine's apartment was much nicer than mine, the result I 
guess of a superior income.  She mentioned casually as we walked 
in that she had been sharing it until recently with another 
woman doctor who had recently moved out to work in Wisconsin, 
and since she had been too choosy about prospective house mates 
she'd decided to pay the extra rent and live by herself.  I was 
aware that my apartment was kind of grungy by comparison, and 
hoped Catherine hadn't been put off by the housekeeping 
standards.  

I followed her into her room, and kissed her again.  I gently 
undid the clasp at the back of her dress, and then unzipped it.  
It fell to the floor, I started to run my hands over her body 
and she softened again, then gently pushed me away.  "Uh uh", 
she said, smiling mischievously.  "Take it easy, mister.  I'm 
gonna be too sore to walk, soon.  Plus", she added more 
seriously, "I don't have any more protection here.  This isn't 
something that happens too often".

I couldn't believe that a woman as gorgeous as Catherine 
couldn't get any and every man she wanted, but I shrugged her 
comment off.  She pulled herself free of my arms, and crossed to 
her closet.  She retrieved a clean bra and panties from some 
drawers, then selected a dark red dress with a low-cut neck that 
buttoned up the front.  She put it on, teasing me all the while 
with her eyes and her smile, then put on some moisturiser and 
some mascara and lipstick.  She grabbed a little cropped denim 
jacket, and pronounced herself ready.  

I guided the Bonneville over to a little Mexican place on 
Olympic that Catherine suggested, and we stuffed our bodies full 
of food and a few beers.  All through dinner it was all I could 
do to keep myself from leaping across the table and putting my 
head up her dress to taste her again.  Her movements and her 
voice and her eyes all conspired to keep me focused on sex.

On the way back from dinner I asked her if she'd rather be alone 
that night.  I thought perhaps she'd want some more time to 
herself.  But she told me it would be okay for me to stay over, 
but that she really would be too sore to do much more.  She 
commented with a smile that she'd noticed all my tiredness 
seemed to have disappeared.  "If that was a routine to get me to 
stay the night it was a pretty good one", she joked.

Before we went to sleep I brought her off once more, just 
through kissing and licking her, and she we went to sleep 
promptly after that, her small frame wrapped in my arm.  

*** 

To be continued in Chapter Two...


-- 
+----------------' Story submission `-+-' Moderator contact `--------------+
| <story-submit@qz.little-neck.ny.us> | <story-admin@qz.little-neck.ny.us> |
| Archive site +----------------------+--------------------+ Newsgroup FAQ |
<http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/>----<http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/faq.html>