Anna's Mystery Plan Pt. 01

"Devil. Complete seductive devil. Please Jeremy, please leave my body alone for just a few hours. Damn you, I'm not only not your dominant, I've fallen completely in love with you. If you love me, you will let me get some work done." Her eyes were genuinely pleading with me.

"Ok, truce."

She sat across from me in the morning sun, nursing her coffee.

"Lose the top. The tan lines have to go from your chest."

She stared at me, then very slowly raised her hands behind her head and undid the tie. When the flimsy fabric dropped, her breasts sat golden in the slanting light. Her hands were still high and the nipples arched skyward. A great picture, but I wanted a more sensuous image in shadow and silhouette. Later.

"Satisfied? Ready to talk?"

I sipped my coffee and nodded.

"Social media is an outlet for a stream of emotions. Highs, lows, fantasies, recollections. The list is long. What I am exploring in my dissertation is the unstated erotic component. It's not always unstated, of course. But most of the time, the claim is for friendship."

She waited a moment.

I interrupted, "Freud and others thought that the biological drive dominated the development of self, so that reproduction was an eternal undercurrent of social interaction."

She smiled at me. "So, you are making me sit here with my breasts exposed to bias anything I say?"

"Or I say." I smiled back at her.

She put her head down and pounded her hand on the table. "Fuck!"

"You said we had to work."

She looked up at me, eyes wet. "You know why I'm mad, don't you? Because you are right, damn it."

I went around the table, turned her sideways and sat behind her. She leaned back and my hands gathered in her boobs. Warm, curvy, satisfying to the male psyche.

"Talk to me. Don't worry what you are saying. Just give me the stream of consciousness. Everything."

"I can't, it's too personal."

I stroked her and gently pulled on rosy nipples. Leaned down and licked her ear. She twitched.

After a long wait, she said, "My mind is a jumble. Your hands and tongue are sending shivers through me. One level of me wants you again, wants to feel you in me. My bottom is all wet. I might as well not have pants on. Another level says I'll never finish this darned thesis if I let you take over my life and my emotions."

I held her totally quiet, my hands stilled. "It doesn't matter when you finish, it matters what insights are in it. What fresh thoughts about love and existence."

She reached up into my hair, pulling me down and twisting to kiss me.

"You have me on a stage. I'm acting. But part of me is not acting and it is very confusing."

"The confusion is just subconscious resistance to opening up."

"How do you know this much about psychoanalysis?"

"My aunt is a therapist. I spend time at her house when mom travels. I keep my ears open. She always answers my questions as best she can."

"Have you had sex with her?"

"She was my first. Right on this deck. She said I had a beautiful cock and seeing it when we went in the lake skinny was driving her crazy."

Sophie stood up and peeled the running shorts off. Her trimmed bush glinted in the morning sun with moisture. I picked her up and went over to the lounger. She ended up, as I wanted, with my mouth clasped around her sex, my arms under her thighs, my fingers on her hard ass.

She looked down. "Tell me this is not a terribly nice waste of time. Tell me that after you make me come, I will have that important insight for my dissertation. Tell me..."

My probing tongue cut off her voice. She had musical moans, running up and down a scale. She was so completely aroused that the very first trills ended in a scream as she came. She stretched on top of me and pressed her face to my chest, crying again.

She was laughing with the tears. "You make me feel so damn good..."

I said in a very quiet voice, "I thought we were working. I'm helping you have insights."

"Fuck you, Jeremy Thompson, you are just a seducer of women. You take our minds and our bodies and mold us to your will."

Her skin was warm in the sun. My fingers worked on her back. She whispered, "I give up. Will you finish my dissertation for me?"

"Before you even had your first sex, you were into the female dominance thing. Guy's cocks felt nice in you but they were just cocks. They didn't mean anything unless you decided you were going to marry one. But yesterday, flirting with me, things started to go wrong. A sudden impulse has you in Karen's arms, sharing hot kisses, and then my cock is in you without permission and your body comes like it never has before. We get up here, without Karen, and I peel your clothes off. You feel out of control. I tell you admiring things about your body and you get wet. You try to begin work, but I surprise you with conversation about your research. Your defenses are failing. You give up."

I was in dangerous territory. I'd skimmed off several layers of emotional control, but it didn't work to get down to the core. The self was too vulnerable with everything stripped away. What I had to do was expose all the power of her sexuality and drive that raw material into her thesis.

For the first time since coming to the lake, I touched my head to hers and transferred some thoughts about prevailing over writer's block and conceptual confusion.

"I'm going to the store for supplies. When I come back, you will be writing fast and smiling. And still naked."

She stood up. "I'm going in the lake. Get out of here. I hate you." The smile didn't look like hate.

(cont'd in Part 2 - The Dissertation)