Inspirati Scientia

Something inside of me snapped. Maybe it was burning desire for this perfect woman that I'd wanted for so long, maybe it was anger at that asshole Nichols for being like the guy that vandalized the Mona Lisa, or maybe it was just to remove any doubts she was having, but in one swift motion I pulled her to her feet and slung her over my shoulder. (The men in my family may be slim and wiry, but we're also strong, our bodies mostly sinew and bone.)

"I'll show you what it's like to be with a man who's never going to leave you," I growled, "and maybe that will help you to decide." As I carried her up the stairs and into my bedroom, I expected her to protest, to struggle or put up some resistance, but Rachel was strangely silent.

Once in the bedroom I lowered her to the foot of the bed, gently pushing her to lay on her back, and removed her boots and socks. I then laid on my side facing her, and became a little concerned. It was as if she'd fallen into a dissociative fugue the minute that I'd slung her over my shoulder. Her amazing body was next to me, but she was staring blankly at the ceiling.

I gently asked, "Rachel, are you alright?" When she didn't respond, I impulsively leaned over and softly kissed her. I figured if it worked for Prince Charming and Snow White, it was worth a shot. (Ok, maybe I just wanted to kiss her!) For a moment, her lips were unresponsive, then suddenly they softened, and her arms were around me, pulling me to her as she returned my kiss in earnest.

Running my hands up and down her body, as my fingertips explored her form I asked, "Where did you go? I was worried; I thought you fainted or something."

"No," she responded in a quiet voice, "I was just very shocked. I didn't expect you to... assert yourself that way."

"I apologize for scaring you. I couldn't help it; you just bring the passion out in me." Moving one hand to her cheek, I slowly stroked it. "I was angry that your asshole ex did such a number on you. You don't deserve to be treated that way. To me, you're perfect, I meant everything I said about you. I respect you professionally, and personally, I've come to adore you." Reaching up, I impulsively began to unsnap the buttons on her shirt.

This was very uncharacteristic of me, but to paraphrase Hippocrates, "Extreme diseases require extreme methods of cure," and my extreme passion for Rachel required immediate treatment, lest I end up with my heart mortally wounded.

As I unbuttoned her blouse, in between kisses I pleaded, "Let me show you how perfect you are, please! Let me earn your love, I promise I'll make myself worthy of it." Her blouse now unbuttoned, it slipped off to either side of her, exposing her breasts in a bra which struggled to contain them. She pulled me to her again, this time slipping her tongue past my lips.

Breaking off the kiss, I lowered my face to her neck, and began kissing my way down to the top of her breasts, where I continued showering her with adoration. Then I heard her whisper, "Patrick, no one's ever said things like that to me; I'm afraid it's not real."

The last thing I wanted to do was stop worshipping the magnificent breasts in front of me, but I needed to reassure Rachel. "In our months working together, have I ever given you reason to doubt my integrity?"

"No."

"I realize it may be overwhelming that I feel the way I do. Since I developed these feelings, I've tried to show you in a number of small ways, but I understand you haven't always picked up on what I was doing. All I ask is that you give me an opportunity to really show you how you deserve to be treated. I'll do my best to be worthy of you if you'll let me." Turning my face to hers, I passionately kissed her again, and as she responded to that kiss, I felt her resistance crumbling.

That kiss lasted for a least a minute, and I have to admit it was the best kiss I'd had in my adult life. Then she whispered in my ear, "Show me how I deserve to be treated." That's what I'd been waiting to hear.

Pulling her into an upright seated position, I pulled off my sweatshirt and slipped between her and the headboard, one of my legs on either side of her. Kissing her neck, I narrated as I removed her blouse. "Imagine having me tend to you every night," I murmured. I undid her bra fastener, and slipped the straps down her arms so she was topless. Reaching around, I slipped a hand under each of her huge breasts and gently lifted them. "Perfection," I said softly, then lowered them and began massaging her shoulders.

I felt her tense up momentarily, and she explained, "I'm sorry, I have a high sensitivity to touch, I'm not used to people's hands on me. Take it slow and easy, OK"?

Pausing my massage for a moment to kiss the back of her neck, I told her, "Thank you for telling me, I'll go extra slow. I want to learn how to pamper and spoil you." I continued massaging her upper back and shoulders for a few minutes more, then extricated myself to stand next to the bed. She now lay there, her breasts fully splayed out with her large light pink areola and gumdrop-sized nipples on full display.

Slightly overwhelmed by how sexy she looked, my mouth went dry, and I could only stammer, "My god, Rachel, you - you're even more beautiful than I imagined." She smiled, but also blushed at my stunned reaction.

I reached down and unfastened her silver belt buckle, loosened her belt and undid her jeans. I pulled them off as gently as I could; given my state of excitement and how tight her jeans were, this not an easy task to perform gracefully. Nonetheless, I persevered, and she now lay on my bed, clad only in a pair of red lace panties. Could this exotic underwear mean she was anticipating... something?

"No fair that you have pants on, and I don't," she teased.

I quickly remedied that, (albeit carefully, because scratching the sensitive underside of my erect cock with the metal teeth of a zipper is an experience I did NOT wish to repeat), and I now stood naked before my lady, my excitement plainly obvious.

I asked her "May I proceed?" She giggled, then nodded her assent. Moving to the end of the bed, I crawled upwards, parting her thick thighs as I alternately kissed the insides until I was stretched out full-length. My face was now inches above the red silk that covered her warm crotch, and she moaned as I pushed my nose into it.

"I've been dreaming of this moment," I growled, then pulled the silk aside, exposing her labia. I began painting her outer and inner lips with my tongue; finding her clitoris, I made sure to pay it ample attention as well. I slid my hands under her and began squeezing her sweet ass cheeks as well, hoping she was enjoying this as much as I was.

By now Rachel was shuddering, her fingers intertwined in my hair as I feasted. Pulling away from pleasuring her for a moment, I told her in a husky voice, "Imagine me doing this to you whenever you'd want. At home, at work, in the back seat of your car, anywhere, anytime! I will, you know, because you make me want to!"

Then, I plunged back into my task, and she began shuddering in earnest, gasping for breath. Suddenly her thighs clamped around my head, and she stiffened and arched her back, her orgasm making her shriek. Trapped and unable to breathe, the thought crossed my mind that there were far worse ways to die than being smothered between my lover's thighs.

Soon enough, or perhaps too soon, her climax subsided, and she relaxed, allowing me to breathe again. Her body was now covered by a light sheen of sweat, and I slid up on top of her, so we were now face to face. "You're so perfect, Rachel," I whispered, kissing her deeply. "No, I'm not," Rachel protested weakly as she reached down to guide my still-rigid cock to her wet entrance.

"Please, Patrick," she begged, and I obeyed, slowly moving into her. Pressing my lips to hers, as I moved in her, I peppered her nose, cheeks, and chin before moving down and covering her neck and collarbone. Women being multi-orgasmic, it wasn't long before another wave of pleasure had her shuddering beneath me. Encouraged by her cries, I began thrusting more vigorously, and I was soon on the brink.

As my own climax was building, I began confessing, "Rachel, I want to be yours, forever! Let me be your man! I love -- AHHHHH!" My climax was more intense than anything I'd felt before; one, two, three, four times I released jets of my essence into her. I hadn't asked her about birth control, nor did I care. I wanted to totally claim this woman, every piece of her. If she ended up carrying my child, with her DNA it would be the most brilliant and beautiful baby ever conceived.

After I recovered from my intense climax, we lay on our sides facing each other not speaking, just, kissing softly. Finally, Rachel whispered, "That was pretty amazing. No one's ever made me climax back-to-back like that."

I chuckled, "Well, you did ask me to show you how you deserved to be treated. So, I have to ask -- am I good enough to be your boyfriend?"

Leaning in to kiss me, she pressed her lips to my mouth, her tongue teasing my lips., My cock began to stiffen; I felt her delicately run her finger across the tip, gathering pre-ejaculate and bringing it up to her mouth. Breaking off the kiss, she seductively licked her finger clean. "Only if you make me cum one more time. Can you handle that?"

As it turns out, I handled it three more times. When I'd woken up that morning, I was a lonely bachelor, unsure of where my life was heading. By lunchtime, I'd made love with my dream woman and was in a serious relationship. I have to say, it was a good day.

~~~~~~~~~~

I'm a scientist, not a psychologist, but on a recent newsfeed I read about a study out of The Ohio State University that found the human brain perceives time as passing faster during pleasurable activities. After Rachel agreed to be my girlfriend, I was living proof of that.

While we kept our relationship strictly professional at work, our evenings and weekends were a different story. Every Saturday we'd go on some local activity: taking a Ghost Tour of Old Town, visiting the Turquoise Museum, riding on a Guided Bicycle Nature Tour, or visiting the Petroglyph National Monument, to name a few.

About three or four evenings a week we'd have dinner together, taking turns cooking. If we stayed overnight, we made sure to go to work at different times so it wouldn't look like we were together. I wasn't particularly concerned about people knowing we were dating, but because I had seniority, Rachel didn't want our coworkers to think she was somehow 'sleeping her way to the top'.

Because I'd been nursing my crush on Rachel for so long I was ready to propose on our second date, but I could sense it was far too soon for her. I'd already bought the engagement ring, of course, but was thinking maybe I'd propose on the anniversary of our first date at the National Museum of Nuclear Science.

However, to celebrate our six-month anniversary I decided to lay some groundwork. I booked a table at the Top Dollar restaurant, overlooking Albuquerque atop Sandia Peak. To get to the restaurant, from Old Town you had to take a tram ride 10,378 feet up the mountainside. It was pretty spectacular.

I wore a suit that night, while Rachel wore a deep blue sleeveless midi dress that clung to every curve, with the added bonus of a slit on the right leg from the mid-calf hem to the top of her gorgeous thigh. Eschewing her usual ponytail, shed worn her hair down and permed. She looked like a million dollars, and turned more than a few heads in the place when she walked in on my arm.

We had a wonderful vegetarian meal: tempura vegetables as appetizers, fresh beet salads, a main course of calliope eggplant made with coconut milk and roasted red peppers, a side dish of five spice roasted cauliflower, then shared deep-fried bananas with ice cream for dessert. After we finished our coffee, we walked out onto the observation deck for an after-dinner embrace.

Standing on tip-toe, she kissed me and sighed, saying "This has been a wonderful night."

I buried my face in her hair and murmured, "The last six months have been wonderful, thanks to you." Then, reaching into the inside pocket of my suit jacket, I pulled out a long thin box and handed it to her. "I love you, Rachel," I said, "and I wanted you to have a tangible reminder of it to wear every day."

She opened the box, and gasped in delight at the gold chain with the two-stone heart-shaped pendant inside it. "One's a blue sapphire, and the other is a ruby," I explained, "our birthstones. This way I'll always be by your side, even if we're apart." Call me a foolishly old-fashioned romantic, but that was my style.

Rachel didn't seem to mind my romantic leanings. Tears in her eyes, she pulled my face to hers and passionately kissed me for a long time before whispering, "Take me home, Patrick. I need you inside me tonight."

During the twenty-minute tram ride back to Old Town, Rachel sat in my lap facing me as I pulled her close with one hand while reaching through the slit in her skirt with my other, caressing her thigh and ass, kissing as we went. I could feel the friction as she rubbing her clit against my hard cock through our clothes, and the pressure of her breasts brushing against my chest. I was in heaven.

Since her house was closer, we went there.

Having already done foreplay in the tram and on the way home, we wasted no time removing our clothes and jumping into bed. I got up onto the bed on my hands and knees, and moved in so we were face-to-face. She laid on her back and spread her legs; prodded by desire, her vagina's entrance was already lubricated from our kissing so there was no resistance as I entered her. Leaning in, I pressed my lips to hers, softly and gently. After pulling away again I told her, "I've loved you from the moment you walked in the lab, you know. You're the best thing that's ever happened to me! Why would I ever want to leave you?"

I lowered my head, and kissing and nibbling on her exposed neck and shoulder, murmuring, "I love you, my beautiful genius. Someday you'll be the mother of my children; I want you all to myself, do you understand?" I made it impossible for her to answer, as I pressed my mouth to hers while thrusting in her, only her moans of pleasure escaping.

After our romantic weekend, I found it difficult to maintain a professional indifference to Rachel back at work. I felt like a schoolboy admiring his first crush from across the room. I thought I was being somewhat covert, until I was getting coffee one morning in the cafeteria and one of the chemists asked me, "So, Dr. Dawson, are you and Dr. Berrigan a thing now?"

Although I was tempted to finally reveal the level of my absolute devotion to Rachel, I responded neutral voice, "If by 'a thing' you mean do I have a great deal of respect for Dr. Berrigan, then yes. She's a brilliant scientist and peer that I happen to find mentally stimulating", when what I really wanted to do was scream "God YES! She's sexy as hell and I get freaky with her every chance I get!"

I made a mental note that going forward, I had to stop with the puppy-dog eyes inside the lab. As it turned out, there were worse things to deal with.

~~~~~~~~~~

PART 2: Boom Boom, Out Go The Lights!

I thought I treated my baby fair

I just found out she don't want me here

If I get her in my sights,

Boom boom, out go the lights!

- Pat Travers

~~~~~~~~~~

The following Friday I came in later than usual. The night before, Rachel and I hadn't stayed together, so I'd forgotten to set my alarm. That's when it occurred to me that I hated waking up without her next to me. I'd waited long enough. I decided that I'd take her back up to the Top Dollar restaurant on Sandia Peak on Saturday, and propose to her on the observation deck.

Sadly, I never got the opportunity to ask her. When I saw Rachel in the breakroom getting her usual cup of Earl Gray tea, she looked a little odd, like she'd gotten some bad news.

I asked her, "Is everything all right, Dr. Berrigan? You seem not your usual self today."

"I'm fine, thank you, Dr. Dawson," she snapped.

This was very unlike her; something was up. As 4:30 rolled around, we happened to meet again in the break room and I asked her what her plans were for the evening, hoping that those plans would somehow include me. Instead, I got a cold response just like in the break room that morning.

"I'm busy tonight. My ex-boyfriend is in town, we're meeting for drinks."

This caught me by surprise; Rachel hadn't talked much about him, and what little she'd said wasn't good. According to her, he was manipulative, doling out affection as a means of controlling her. I blurted out, "You mean that British guy Nichols, the one who dumped you? Why would you agree to see him again?"

Rachel was less than pleased by my response. "He said he wants to apologize for how things ended, so I'm meeting him for some closure."

Chalk it up to jealousy but hearing this, I did not react well. Unable to keep my expression neutral, I snorted in derision and rolled my eyes. In retrospect, it was a bad move on my part, one that I'd live to regret.

Rachel was now openly angry, reminding me, "In case you've forgotten, Doctor Dawson, I'm an independent single woman, and I can go where I damned well want to go and see who I damned well want to see!"

Then, to add insult to injury she added, "And I also can choose who I don't want to see, and right now, I don't want to see YOU!" She quickly turned and walked towards the women's locker room to change out of her lab coat, while I stood speechless, watching her walk away.

Clearly, I'd fucked up big time. Walking back to my office, my heart was heavy. As much as it pained me to admit, Rachel was right. My insecurities were my problem, not hers; the reality of things was we were still not exclusive. I'd declared my singular devotion to her on more than one occasion, but never - not once -- had she responded in kind.

Rachel was a grown-ass single woman, and as such was perfectly free to do as she pleased. If I loved and respected her as I claimed, there was no way I could tell her what to do; I'd just have to hope that everything I'd done for her thus far actually meant something. Damn it.

Later that night I was sitting in front of my television, watching a documentary series about famous engineering failures - tonight was my favorite, the collapse of the Tacoma Narrows Bridge in November of 1940 - when my phone rang. My heart leapt with joy when the caller ID showed Rachel, but when I accepted the call I heard a man's voice with an English accent speaking before I even said "Hello". Evidently, I'd been 'butt-dialed' while Rachel was meeting with Nichols.

I should have respected her privacy and just hung up, but as I was already anxious about her meeting with her ex, I pandered to my jealous instincts and listened in. Impulsively, I also called up my phone's recording app to capture the conversation.

"Come on, Rachel, it's been over a year, right? Yer 'aven't called once beggin' me to come back! Honest, 'aven't yer missed me just a bit then?"

"Only at first, but now I'm dating someone."

"Oh, so yer've moved on, have ya then? Ya mean ta tell me yer don't miss this?"

"Trevor, stop! I don't want to kiss..." Her voice was cut off; despite her protestations, from the sound of things he'd gone ahead and kissed her anyway. For a minute, there was silence.

When he spoke again, his tone more forceful now. "That wasn't so bloody awful now were it, then, luv? Does 'e treat yer better than me, then?

Rachel's tone was weaker now, less resistant. "Patrick adores me and treats me like a queen. He's very attentive, and he..." She suddenly gasped.