Prof Wot Pt. 02: The Purveks Ch. 01

Cliff Stone stood to one side with his arms crossed, while Professor Wot tinkered at the square control column at the centre of the wide room. Banks of computers and displays surrounded them, although what they told the old man, Cliff could not say. They had only recently survived their previous adventure in Earth's distant past, and now they were apparently coming in for another landing.

Cliff glanced over, as the Professor's 18-year old grand-daughter, Suzanne, entered the room from the single doorway on the other side. Suzanne was one of Cliff's pupils, but her school uniform had quite literally been destroyed during their previous excursion, and she had taken the opportunity to put on something of her own choosing: it was a white, sleeveless dress in some kind of smooth plastic-like material. The dress was so short that the edge of the hem only just brushed the lower edges of her buttocks. Below this, she wore high-heeled boots in the same material, that came up past her knees, leaving a narrow section of smooth, tanned thigh visible in between. Cliff's eyes were drawn to that strip of flesh, but Suzanne affected not notice, smiling in the direction of her grandfather as she walked around the control column towards them. With one hand, she reached down and scratched her leg, in the process somehow flipping up the hem of her skirt, and flashing 3-4 inches of yellow thong.

Cliff stared at her crotch for the few seconds it was visible, and then quickly looked away, blushing. When he dared to look back, Suzanne was standing in front of him, her legs slightly parted and a hand on one hip, while she cocked her head and smiled at him. "Why Mr Stone," she purred, "anybody would think you hadn't seen me completely naked."

Before Cliff could form a coherent reply, the Professor interrupted them with a brief burst of activity and the exclamation, "this is it, we're landing!"

There was a juddering sound and the grinding of ancient engines, and then everything went quiet. Cliff looked over to see their other travelling companion enter, his long-term colleague and regular feature of his sexual fantasies, the prim and proper Miss Lola McGovern. She had also become rather dishevelled during their encounter with the cavemen, but although her dowdy cardigan was long gone, she had done repairs to her blouse and skirt and pinned her hair back up to the point where she could have walked straight back into Fail Hill School and not stood out in the slightest. She had even re-located her glasses and had put them on the end of her nose. She was now looking over them towards the control column, apparently entirely failing to notice Cliff.

Cliff sighed. Lola was not very pleased with him at the moment, and that seemed unlikely to change. He remembered his own torn and semen-stained trousers, and considered fixing them. He had done his national service, and was quite handy with a needle and thread.

"Now," said the Professor, "let's see where we are." One of the instrument panels contained a monitor screen which now began to glow, and Lola stepped forwards with tense anticipation. The old man had already told the two twentieth century teachers that he could not get them back home, but still Lola held out some hope. Instead of London however, the image resolved to show what looked like some kind of dense jungle.

The Professor frowned, but he said "interesting," and operated another control which opened the large double doors that led to the outside world. He glanced around the room at the others. "Let's take a look, shall we?"

***

When the travellers stepped outside, everything was totally silent. The jungle had looked normal on the screen, but at closer range they could see that everything was grey and colourless. Cliff rubbed a leaf between his fingers and it crumbled to dust.

"Extraordinary," said the Professor. "Everything petrified - practically turned to stone. And no animal life by the sounds of things, either."

Cliff nodded. The silence was eerie. Apart from a slight wind through the branches, nothing moved.

"Professor, where have you brought us?" asked Lola. Her disappointment was palpable. "I just want to go home."

"I know, my dear. Perhaps if I can calibrate..." his voice trailed off, while he looked around in fascination. "What could cause this, hmm? A neutron bomb?"

"Are we in the future, Professor?" asked Cliff.

"Future... past, it makes no difference my boy. We are no longer on your Earth. We could be a whole galaxy away."

Suzanne walked up and touched his elbow. "Come on, don't scare them Gramps. We need to get some rest."

"Yes... Yes, of course. Let's have some food and sleep and then come at this again in the morning. This way, this way." The old man led them back into the Pisspot.

He took them all to a small kitchen area, where a huge dispenser released blocks of processed food for them. "Professor," said Cliff as he nibbled one, "do we have to stay here? Can't we try again?"

"We'll discuss it in the morning, Mr Pebble..."

"Stone."

"Hmm, quite." The old man essayed an enormous yawn. "Well, I'm turning in. Good night all," and he shuffled out.

Suzanne shook her head and grinned. "Gramps just doesn't want to admit he has no idea where we've landed. Well, you know where your rooms are." She stopped at the door, turned and looked back at Cliff. "... And where mine is, of course. You know, if you need anything in the night."

Cliff could feel Lola's eyes on him. "Yes, thank you Miss Patterson," he said, "I'm sure that won't be necessary."

Suzanne smirked and left.

Cliff turned to look at his erstwhile colleague. "Lola," he began.

"Yes, thank you, Mr Stone," she said, very formally. "I'm really very tired. I'll see you in the morning." And then she swept out.

Cliff sighed and sat at the kitchen table by himself. One way or another, it looked like being a lonely evening.

***

The next morning, he woke again on the strange little bunk that constituted virtually the only furniture in his "own" little room. He'd slept rather badly, but then the last 24 hours had been amongst the strangest in his whole life. As he sat up, he realised that he had developed morning 'wood'. Given recent events, he considered rubbing one out, but he didn't even have a spare sock or a tissue to collect the resultant mess, and he decided against it.

He got dressed quickly. The Professor had offered him a spare pair of pyjamas, but Cliff had declined. Wearing the old man's cast offs did not appeal, and generally he preferred to sleep in the nude. He took his time in the small bathroom down the hall. The previous day, the Professor had shown him the strange paste that dispensed from the wall and cleaned his teeth for him. Once his nether regions had calmed down, he had a piss and then returned to the control room.

Everyone else was sat in the kitchen, just off the main room, and engaged in what appeared to be a very intense discussion. Lola was standing, glaring angrily at the old man and his grand-daughter.

"What do you mean," said Lola, "we can't go anywhere?"

"What's going on?" asked Cliff. Everyone ignored him.

"I'm sorry my dear," said the Professor, spreading his hands placatingly, "the Pisspot is on its last reserves of power, enough to keep the lights on, but not to get us anywhere."

Cliff sat at the table. "Okay, how do we get some power?"

"It's not that simple," said Suzanne, who was leaning up against the counter with her arms crossed. She was again wearing her revealing white dress.

"The Pisspot runs on sexual energy," said the Professor.

Cliff almost laughed. "What?"

"Professor Wot, if you don't mind. My people cracked the technology centuries ago."

"It's happened before," said Suzanne. "Normally one of us can go out and get some... get some. But your twentieth century was so repressed, we ended up stuck there for months."

"The simmering sexual tension between the two of you," the Professor gestured at Cliff and Lola, ignoring their startled reactions, "was enough to get us back to your planet's past. Then I had some... encounters with that young tribeswoman, which got us to here. But that's expended, now. We need to fully re-charge before we can move on." He rubbed his eyes. "To be explicit... the two of you need to have sex."

Cliff stood up in shock and looked across to Lola, who for once returned his gaze, her eyes wide. "Y-you can't be serious!" she stammered.

"I'm deadly serious," said the Professor. "If there were some life out there on that planet, then perhaps we would have some options. But as it stands, we don't. The Pisspot needs power, and sex is what charges it."

"This is crazy," protested Cliff. "You can't expect Miss McGovern and I to just... perform for you?"

"In here, or out there, it doesn't matter. The Pisspot can take what it needs," said Professor Wot. "I don't see what alternative we have. Unless you're planning to 'do' my grand-daughter Mr Stone?"

"What? No! Of course not?"

"Oh, so would you prefer me to shack up with Miss McGovern, here?"

Cliff caught the look of horror on Lola's face. "No, of course not!"

"In that case," the old man pulled himself to his full height and fixed Cliff with a glare, "are you expecting me to perform coitus with my own grand-daughter?" He finished on a note of complete outrage.

Cliff sank back into a chair. "This is impossible," he gasped.

Lola had turned away from them all, apparently unwilling to even take part in the conversation.

"Impossible or not," said the Professor, not unsympathetically, "it has to be done."

"But... but we're not..."

At last, Lola turned around. "I just don't see Mr Stone that way," she muttered. "We're work colleagues."

"Well, you'll need to learn to see him that way," said Suzanne. "Or we're stuck here."

***

It was after about an hour of arguing that Cliff found himself standing by the entrance to the Pisspot, looking out into the jungle beyond. Lola was next to him, her arms folded across her enormous chest, staring at the ground. By mutual agreement, they has established that there was no way they were going to be able to do what was necessary inside the ship - and so out into the woods it was.

"Here," said Suzanne handing him a folded blanket, "might come in handy."

"Look," said Cliff, "couldn't we just have a kiss and a cuddle?"

"No, no," the Professor shook his head emphatically. "It needs to be deep, penetrative, orgasmic sex. You need to bring each other to exquisite climaxes, naked, animalistic, raw..."

"Yes, all right, we get the idea." Cliff coughed. "Professor, can I have a quick word?"

"Of course," the old man nodded. Lola and Suzanne took their cue, and walked a few steps away. "What is the problem?"

Cliff chose his words carefully. "Do you..."he whispered, "have any johnnies?"

The Professor looked at him, blankly.

Cliff tried again. "You know. Rubbers... Condoms."

Light dawned on the old man's face. "Ah... you mean prophylactics!" His voice was loud enough that the two women, who were having their own quiet discussion, turned to look at them.

Cliff blushed intensely. "Yes. You know."

"No need to worry, my boy. The Pisspot protects its crew from disease and unwanted pregnancy."

"Really? How does it do that?"

"Extremely well, as it happens. I think it's time you made a start." The Professor clapped him on the shoulder.

Cliff steeled himself and walked up to Lola. "Shall we?"

She nodded briefly, and they walked away from the machine, not quite sure where they were heading, but looking for a secluded clearing somewhere far away from the scrawny old man and his grand-daughter. They walked and walked, largely in silence. Occasionally, Cliff would point out a protruding root, or hold back some undergrowth. For the most part, Lola did not speak at all, but just kept on walking. As time passed, Cliff felt himself starting to get tired, and eventually he just stopped in something like the tenth vaguely suitable clearing they had come to.

Lola looked back at him. "Let's keep looking," she said.

"No... Lola, come on. Here." Cliff laid out the blanket, and sat down on it. Slowly, she came over and perched on the opposite corner, not looking at him.

Cliff took a moment to drink in the sight. Miss Lola McGovern, who he had wanted to fuck from the moment he met her. Now, here they were, about to do it. She had got hot during the walk, and beads of sweat were making her starched blouse cling to her upper chest. Through it, he could just about make out her slip, and beneath that, a sturdy bra strap. A pointy bra held her huge breasts in place, but they now heaved slightly, moving under the material as if eager to be free. Her thick woollen skirt clung to her legs, which he knew were clad in stockings. How he longed to just reach over and twitch that hemline higher. Already, he felt a stirring in his pants at the thought.

Lola tucked a loose hair back into place and looked across at him. "Mr Stone," she said, "I need to tell you something."

"Can't you call me Cliff? Even now?"

She hesitated. "Cliff... I... I'm a virgin."

Cliff swallowed, not sure how to respond. Like him, she was now in her early thirties. Had she really never... "I would have thought..." he began, and then changed tack. "I mean, you must have had boyfriends..."

"I was saving myself for the man I would marry." She sniffed. "I suppose this all sounds very stupid to you."

"No, not at all. I admire your... restraint. But Lola... we're in a tight spot here."

"I know," she nodded. "We have to... don't we?" She looked across at him and her lower lip trembled, just very slightly.

"Lola... I'll be gentle. I promise."

Lola nodded again, closed her eyes and tilted her head upwards puckering her lips. After a moment, he realised that she was expecting him to move in and kiss her. Feeling awkward, he leaned over her, wondering which bits he could touch. Well, all of them eventually, but it was hard to know where to start. He arched forwards in a slightly uncomfortable position and pressed his lips to hers. She didn't move much, and this didn't really feel like a proper smooch. Cliff shifted about a bit, and then thought 'sod it' and pushed his tongue in.

Lola snapped backwards, like a startled gazelle. "What was that?" she asked.

"My tongue," said Cliff, helplessly. "Has no one ever tongued you before?"

"No! That's disgusting!"

Cliff sighed. "Look," he said, "maybe this will help." And he took his shirt off. Cliff knew he had a good rack. The sight of his muscular pecs had been known to turn women weak at the knees in the past, and certainly Miss McGovern seemed unable to take her eyes off them. Cliff moved in, and took her by the shoulders, lifting her up onto her knees. Then he knelt in front of her and threaded his arms behind her back. He pulled her in and pressing his chest to hers, he tried to kiss her again.

Lola moved her head out of the way. "What did he mean?" she asked.

Cliff almost groaned. "By what?"

"Simmering sexual tension? There's no sexual tension between us! We just work together."

"Lola, can you please just focus?"

"Yes, all right."

Cliff kissed her again, and this time, she seemed to respond a little, parting her lips and allowing him to run his tongue along her teeth. 'In for a penny, in for a pound,' he thought, and experimentally, he raised one hand and placed it on her magnificent right breast. She didn't object as he began to massage that bounteous bosom. It felt amazing, even through three layers of blouse, slip and bra. For years, he had dreamed of what it would feel like to hold these tits.

He needed more. Quickly, he undid her blouse, and pulled it back over her shoulders. She didn't resist, but looked up at him as he did so, meeting his eyes, and starting to breathe more heavily. Finally, the upper part of her slip and her bra straps came into full view, and between them he could see right down into her deep cleavage. He bent down and kissed it.

"Oh Mr Stone," she panted. "Is that... is that appropriate?"

"No," he said, burying his face in her boob flesh. He was ecstatic. He couldn't breathe, but it felt fantastic to have her mammary mounds pressed against his cheeks. So soft and warm.

With his left hand now free again, he was able to run it up her leg. The sensation of her stocking under his fingertips sent a thrill down his spine. When she didn't stop him he continued, pushing up under her skirt, into the dark places beyond, towards the prize between her thighs. His fingers headed north, until a change in the feel of it told him that he had reached the top of her stocking. He was so excited he had to pull his face out of her cleavage and suck in some air.

She was looking at him seriously. "Oh," she said, "I... I... Wait... Wait!"

Cliff stopped, feeling frustrated. "What?"

"What if there is someone else on this planet? We wouldn't have to do this!"

"There isn't," said Cliff, wondering if he should get back to nuzzling the upper slopes of her tits. He still had one hand up her skirt, and so, pushing his luck, he stretched upwards until he was touching the skin of her upper thigh. It was incredibly exciting. "We can do this, Lola," he said. "It will be all right."

She looked back at him, and nodded, so he reached in and kissed her again. His questing hand probed further, until he was touching the hem of her knickers.

Lola broke off from the kiss. "No. Wait. I need a wee. Back in a bit." She removed his hand, then stood up, brushed herself down, and disappeared between the trees.

Cliff lay back on the blanket, and looked at the sky. It was a sort of greenish hue, quite unlike Earth. He picked up her discarded blouse and sniffed at it. He closed his eyes, and shifted his uncomfortable erection. Perhaps he should take his clothes off? He did so, and stretched out naked under the sky, tugging at himself occasionally to stay in the mood.

After about 15 minutes, it occurred to him that she might not be coming back.