Honey, I'm Home!

She rattled off a long order that Randall instantly recorded on his mental 'to do' list.

He was analyzing her list and comparing it to his memorized scan of the yellow pages as he stepped onto the red sphere. Once in his lab, he shut off the power supply and went to his office. An unfortunate effect of transporting was fatigue, and he had not yet figured out exactly why. He lay down on his couch and closed his eyes.

Forty-six minutes later he opened them and stood up. He was not looking forward to the shopping trip. He hated crowds. But it couldn't be helped. He called a taxi.

After several hours of scurrying about town, sweating and running up his credit card balance, Randall returned to the lab. Lugging the stuff up there was even worse, and he wondered if he should have been so adamant about refusing research assistants and grad students.

But he just couldn't risk it. His brilliant theorems were so elegantly simple once you got into them...

He dragged the supplies into the transporter area. It would take several trips to get it all there, but that was no problem.

A pile of supplies began to mount on the beach as Randall hopped back and forth, tossing a bundle of supplies out onto the sand with each hop.

Lisa watched the pile grow with satisfaction. He had been gone no more than a second. Damned if this wasn't like having her own personal genie -- without the wish limitation. She supposed she'd have to give the little twerp something sooner or later, but not just yet. He didn't seem to resent her verbal abuse, so she'd keep it up until he started to get a bad attitude.

Randall collapsed onto the sand next to the pile of supplies. He was utterly exhausted. All the flipping back and forth had drained him of energy. He should have napped before coming back, but he had been too anxious to be near her again. His lusty young mistress. His cock grew again in his damp underpants.

"So what did you bring?" Lisa went to the piled supplies and started picking through it. "Burger King. Glad you didn't forget that." She stuffed a few fries into her mouth. "Cold though. You're going to have to do better than that."

Randall thought she seemed appreciative, but a light kiss would have been welcome. Perhaps when her hunger for food was sated she would want to satisfy her natural longing for other, more sensual indulgences.

"Now you can get that tent set up. And it better not be some off-brand piece of crap. Put it over there. Did you remember the suntan lotion? I'm going to burn up here."

Randall knew that a request for assistance with suntan lotion was a common ploy used by women as a prelude to sexual intercourse. She would step out of her abbreviated black dress and ask him to rub it on her back, whereupon she would unhook her brassiere, and then find some pretext to roll over, exposing her firm breasts to his avid gaze...

"The tent, dick brain. Set it up and blow up the air mattress so I can take a nap if I want."

Nap! It was about to happen. They would both be naked, of course, since the air was quite warm....

He dragged the heavy tent package to the spot she had indicated. He wondered if she knew what a vigorous rogering she was about to receive.

The assembly instructions were written in six languages, all of which Randall understood but none of which made sense. They had completely neglected to include mathematical justifications for their conclusions. He rolled out the materials and examined the hardware carefully.

"What a dildo," Lisa muttered. "Get out of the way before you hurt yourself. Did you bring that Victoria's Secret bikini collection I asked for?" She started expertly assembling the tent framework.

A reference to a prosthetic sexual organ! Randall was in love. This would probably be the time for some clever sexual repartee, but he couldn't think of anything at the moment.

He scrabbled in the pile of supplies and found the Victoria's Secret bag. Just the smell of its perfume made his cock ache. But damn it, he was ready to drop dead from exhaustion.

He walked over and handed the sexy pastel bag to his true love.

"Perhaps you'd like to model these for me," he suggested.

"Perhaps you'd like to go fuck yourself," Lisa snarled.

Randall was stumped. Possibly she had meant to say, 'Perhaps you'd like to fuck me,' which would have been quite thrilling. And completely understandable.

Doing it to himself was a physical impossibility.

She obviously had severe intellectual deficiencies, so it was a strong possibility that she had misspoken. Best not to offend her by correcting her statement. She would be impressed by his ability to see past her words to her true meaning.

"Yes, I would," he said, trying for an air of detached amusement.

Lisa rolled her eyes. This dipshit was totally clueless.

"Did you bring me that fingernail polish collection?"

"You didn't ask for that."

"Do I have to think of everything? I want the one by Eve Arden. The big one. No substitutes. Now."

Randall stumbled back to the red sphere. Back in the lab he was shaking with fatigue. Time for another power nap. And food. He desperately required energy, and it looked like the picnic idea had not gone over well. She hadn't even offered to share with him.

An hour later he was ready to rejoin his lady-love. He had used a delivery service to obtain the fingernail polish collection, and the total cost had been astounding. But why should he care about money? If he ever allowed the fruit of his genius to become public, money would soon be obsolete.

His hand hovered over the coordinate dials. Perhaps he should give her time to change into one of those microscopic string bikinis. Or even take a short nap to sleep off all the greasy food she had eaten.

But what if she should require his assistance with the fastenings of her swimwear? She would turn her sleek, smooth back to him, holding the bikini top up with one slim hand, and he would place his hands on her heartbreakingly slender waist, then slide them up, moving cautiously forward and upward until finally he was cupping her firm breasts.

He hesitated.

No. He was still too tired to perform at optimal levels. He would get a good night's sleep and return to her fully refreshed.

After a long night on his office couch, during which Randall experienced many disturbing dreams of a sexual nature, he returned to the lab and warmed up the transporter machinery. He still hadn't determined how long he should make her wait for his return. An hour? Two? More?

He stepped away from the red sphere just as the sun was gloriously sinking below the watery horizon. Lisa was lying on the air mattress inside the tent, staring at the ceiling. She had indeed changed into a miniscule black string bikini, which had cost Randall $135.26, but it was well worth it. The sheer perfection of her body was mesmerizing.

She sat up as he handed her a large box of manicure supplies. The little dweeb was trying to mess with her head. She'd had plenty of time to think, and had realized that he could just leave her here for days, or even years, if he felt like it. Or even forever, if he got bored with her. It was time to give him a little taste to maintain his interest.

She set the box aside and tugged at a long strand of blond hair. "I missed you. This place is beautiful but kind of lonely." She smiled at him appealingly.

Randall's heart swelled with pride. She had missed him! His timing was impeccable. But what did she expect now? Should he join her on the inflatable bed? Should he take his clothes off first? He tentatively began unbuttoning his rumpled shirt.

Lisa wrinkled her nose at the cloying odor as he started to remove his shirt. God Almighty, he smelled like mildew and rancid sweat under laid with even less appealing things.

"Why don't we take a little swim first," she suggested sweetly. "The water is absolutely perfect and I can't wait for you to enjoy it." And rinse off some of your funk, she thought.

Randall pulled off his shirt, displaying his hollow chest and bony arms, then unbuckled his pants. He stepped out of them and hesitated. Should he take his underpants off? Would a penile display be appropriate at this time?

Oh My God, Lisa thought. What a pitiful body. "Maybe you should leave your tighty-whities on for a while. Until after we swim, anyway."

She stood up and adjusted the strings of her bikini. "Race you!"

Randall watched as she sprinted toward the water's edge, his cock stiffening to full erection. Poetry in motion. He couldn't believe he was about to have her. He jogged after her, admiring the movements of her dimpled ass.

She dove into a breaking wave and swam out to the point where she could barely touch bottom. "Come on!" she cried gaily. "See if you can catch me!"

Randall waded out until the water was up to his knees. He was not comfortable in deep water. He did know how to swim -- in theory, anyway. He had read several books on the subject.

A wave broke, soaking him. The water was cold, and his dick began to shrivel.

"I may have neglected to mention that during this geologic period there were rather large sharks in this area..." Randall remarked.

Lisa squealed and churned the water as she rushed to return to his side. He stretched out his arms to embrace her and she shoved him, hard. He fell on his ass and another wave washed over him. He swallowed a mouthful of water and gagged, tried to regain his feet but could not get his balance.

She reached out a hand to him just as a much larger wave hit, tumbling both of them. Randall crawled toward the shore, spluttering, beginning to feel panicky.

Lisa high-stepped out of the water, giggling as she tried to pull her bikini top down. Randall froze, fascinated by the sight of her naked, perky breasts. The nipples were a pale shade of pink and were fully erect.

Randall stood up, not noticing that his underpants had filled with sand and were nearly down to his knees. He stared open-mouthed at Lisa's enchanting body until still another wave hit him and knocked him face down. The back-wash pulled his pants down to his ankles.

When he finally managed to drag himself out of the water and stand up, she was laughing into her hands.

"You almost lost your panties," she giggled. He looked down at his limp dick, which had nearly disappeared into his pubic patch.

"Meet you back at the tent!" She sprinted away, tugging her tangled bikini top off over her head as she ran.

Randall kicked his pants off and stumbled after her. Clearly she wished to be pursued. When he caught her she would collapse backward onto the sand, pulling him down on top of her. He would stifle her happy giggles with a searching kiss... He had once seen a rather boring movie in which that happened. It must be a common female fantasy.

She was at the tent minutes ahead of him, drying herself with a fluffy towel. She wrapped it around her and began combing out her tangled hair with her fingers. He stopped to watch, standing on one foot and covering his erection with his hands.

"Could you maybe brush out my hair, Sweetie?" she asked coyly. "It will be full of snarls if I don't... before we..."

Randall's heart hammered. She had used a term of endearment! He found a hairbrush and showed it to her.

"Not that one. The one with the plastic-tipped bristles." She knelt on the air mattress with her back to him. "Gently, please. If you pull too hard I might cry."

With trembling hands he ran the brush through her waist-length wet hair, trying not to tug when there was resistance. He had never imagined the sensuality involved in brushing a woman's hair. He could enjoy this for hours.

At least he knows how to use a hairbrush, Lisa thought grudgingly. It actually felt quite nice. If she didn't have to look at him...

Her nipples tingled, still stiff from the cold water, and she even felt a twinge of longing in her pussy. Her boyfriend had been out of town for a week... Maybe if she could get Randall to do her doggy-style, it wouldn't be too gross.

She supposed she'd had worse. But not recently. She sighed and tucked the towel tighter around her breasts.

When her hair was untangled and the brush glided through it without resistance, Randall could take no more. He put his arms around her from behind and tried to loosen the towel. She must be waiting for him to take charge. His cock throbbed, and he wondered how it would feel to slide it into her moist crevice.

Lisa fell forward onto the bed, lying face down. I really cannot believe I am considering this, she thought. But it was actually a small price to pay for the benefits she anticipated. If she managed him properly she could easily become the richest woman in the world.

Randall knelt beside her and awkwardly caressed her back and bare shoulders. How best to get her to turn over?

Lisa peeked at him over her shoulder. "Sweetie? You've made me very, very wet. But it would be so much nicer for us if we had a real bed... and a shower... Why don't we just pop over to my apartment?"

Randall's head whirled. What did she mean by 'wet?' Surely she wasn't referring to accidental urination. And the thought of spending the night with her at her apartment was more than thrilling. But a bird in the hand...

"I'm sorry," he said, "But I still haven't fixed the remote control. I'm having trouble concentrating on that right now. You're so beautiful..."

Shit, Lisa thought. She didn't believe that his remote thingy was out of order and she fought back a wave of anger. He just wanted his other thingy taken care of before he took her home. He was clever in a stupid kind of way. She would have to handle him very carefully.

She rolled over to look up at his flushed face.

"Lie down here beside me, Doc. Maybe I can help you get your head back together." She patted the mattress beside her. "Just be gentle with me. I've never really... been with a man before. Not one like you, anyway."

Randall flopped down beside her, his heart galloping like a thoroughbred on the home stretch.

She was a virgin too! Actually, he had hoped for a girl with at least a little experience for his first time, but this could work. They would have their first time together, and she would be his for life. Sex on demand... It would be most beneficial to his work.

He reached over and tugged shyly at her towel.

"Mmmmm..." she sighed, letting him peel the towel away to expose her lush breasts. Her hand strayed to his rock-hard erection and smoothed away a drop of pre-cum at the tip.

He groaned. She was actually touching his cock! Did that mean she wanted him to touch her too?

She grasped the base of his prick and squeezed, then milked him once, twice...

Randall jetted his load all over his stomach. She continued to stroke him until he shuddered at the excessive stimulation. She wiped her hand off on his chest and lay back, watching him.

When Randall could catch his breath, he croaked, "That was awesome! Were you, uh, satisfied too, or should I—"

"Oh, Sweetie," she purred. "I'm completely satisfied. So why don't you just pop back to your lab and fix your little doo-hickey so we can go home? You can take as long as you need, but get back here in five minutes, and I'll fix a nice dinner for us at my place, OK? And then we'll have all night to do whatever your heart most desires." She scrubbed at her sticky hand with the damp towel.

Randall struggled off the air mattress and wobbled to the transport point. His knees were clattering like castanets. A real girl had just jacked off his penis! And obviously had enjoyed doing so!

Lisa watched narrowly as Randall located the transporter marker and winked out of existence. She sprinted to the spot where he had disappeared.

She wasn't buying that crap about remote controls. He hadn't had anything in his hand this time.

There—a small red sphere hovering a fraction of an inch above the sand. She reached to touch it just as it dissolved.

Shit fuck DAMN. He must have deactivated the machines back in his lab. But now she knew. Just step on the red sphere, and blip! Off you went.

She wondered how long it would take him to realize he had forgotten his pants.

Next: Lisa loves a hot fudge sundae.