Quantum Lust

"You won't brag to your friends about this?" she challenged.

He looked her straight in the eye and answered, "Nobody's business, right?"

His repeated promise made her think of earlier — the éclair, the cream, his tongue. Fuck!

Choice made, she reached behind her waist and unzipped her skirt, wriggling her hips until it dropped to the floor. Then she hooked her thumbs in her panties and slid them off.

"I watched what you did to that éclair you brought to my lecture. Do that to me," she ordered.

Before she could make a move for the sofa, Alvaro lifted her off her feet like a dancer, crossed the distance in three long strides and deposited her onto the cushions. She thrilled at the feeling of being thrown down passionately, still half-dressed but intimately exposed to the young man standing over her.

An unbidden flash of memory hit her, a different man standing over her in that very spot, shirtless, about to drop his pants and join her naked on the sofa. Though no comparison to the chiselled body of this Brazilian youth, he was in fine shape for a physicist nerd, lean and fit — and clearly burning for her, like she did for him ...

How could she be thinking about Ethan's body, long lost to her, with this rock hard one right here in front of her? She pulled her focus back to the here and now.

Alvaro lowered himself to his knees, put a hand on each of her thighs and caressed the silky skin. Then he gently pushed her legs apart and brought his face to her inner thigh, kissing her just above the knee, then a little higher, another kiss, and another, drawing closer and closer.

Finally, he reached his destination and she felt his warm breath tickling her pubic hair, his scratchy stubble awakening her most tender skin with its erotic contrast.

Oh yes, it was definitely time to focus on the here and now!

He kissed her there, and she let out a deep moan, feeling a rush of heat and moisture, wanting the full éclair treatment.

"Lick my cream," she begged him.

Alvaro obeyed his teacher with a firm lick from vagina to clit, bringing a vivid vision to Rylee's mind of the cream gathering on her seductive student's teasing tongue. Now she was his dessert, his pastry, his sweet éclair.

"Oh fuck yes, eat me!" Rylee cried out.

As Alvaro devoured her, she closed her eyes and luxuriated in the gorgeous Brazilian's attentions, basking in the tingling sensations he was sending through her body — until the sensation changed. A distinctly different tingling across her skin. One she had felt before.

Her eyes snapped open.

There he was again. About ten feet away. The ghostly figure, naked and erect as before, his arm outstretched toward her in that same pleading gesture.

Rylee gasped and her entire body tensed. Alvaro apparently mistook these signs as the onset of her climax and increased the intensity of his oral onslaught.

Before she could speak, the figure disappeared, only to reappear in another part of the lab. Now he stood in the dim back area, next to the towers of the abandoned machine. His arm was still outstretched, but to the side this time, aimed at one of the towers.

"Who —!" Rylee choked out.

The figured lost form, spread like a swarm of bees dispersing, then pulled back together.

"Stop, Alvaro, stop!"

The young man's head snapped up, hearing the alarm in her voice.

The hazy figure at the back of the lab thinned and then vanished right before Rylee's eyes.

"What's wrong?" Alvaro asked.

"I — I saw someone. A man. Over there." She pointed at the towers.

Alvaro was on his feet in a flash, hitting the lights. He searched the entire lab carefully, peering into any spaces where someone could be hiding, while Rylee sat curled into a tight ball on the sofa. He took his time, wanting to make sure, but returned from the back of the lab shaking his head apologetically.

Rylee tried to say something, to explain, but could only stammer incoherently. She stretched out a leg to stand, then drew it back in, suddenly feeling awkward about her naked lower half.

A moment later Alvaro was there, gently holding her skirt and underwear out to her. She thanked him and pulled the skirt on.

"Perhaps it was shadows or reflections caused by the setting sun," Alvaro said.

"Yes, I'm sure it was. Alvaro, listen ... I don't think ..."

"It's all right. Nothing to worry about. No expectations or pressures. I don't work that way." He pulled on his T-shirt.

"I'm sorry ..."

"Hey, no apologies," he cut in. "Only experiences. And only when they feel right." He winked good-naturedly, but then his expression turned serious. "Are you okay?"

"I am. Really," she assured him.

"All right, then. See you in class, Professor."

Well, shit, this was going to make classes with Valente awkward, she thought as she closed the door behind him. Better if they had fucked. Less embarrassing.

She let go of that worry for now. Alvaro didn't matter. Her focus returned to the figure she had witnessed appearing and disappearing for the second time. She was a scientist, she told herself; she didn't believe in ghosts. This was something else.

She sat behind the desk, staring into the brightly-lit room, thinking about what she had seen and what she needed to find out. Because this time the apparition had been clearer, erection and all. This time she got a good look at her fleeting caller.

It was Ethan.

* * * * * * *

Rylee knew full well that there were two explanations for what she was experiencing. Either she was losing her mind and seeing the ghost of her former lover who had broken her heart, or what she had seen was real and there was a scientific cause and solution for what was happening. The first explanation was the simplest and made the most sense. Dismissing it, she chose to pursue explanation two.

That was why she was now on her way to the dean's office. He had agreed to see her mid-morning. Rylee had done her best to keep the request casual, but she was glad he had a few minutes free so soon. She hardly slept the night before.

Last night, after Alvaro had left, Rylee spent another hour in her office — Ethan's lab — thinking things through, trying to formulate a theory, trying to form a plan. What became clear was that she needed more information.

Dean Ferdinand Horowitz was a heavyset man with a full grey beard who always presented himself as jovial and welcoming. Unfortunately, he was also somewhat of a chauvinistic ass. Rylee hated the way he talked down to the female staff. She normally tried to avoid him, but right now he was her best bet for finding out what she needed to know.

He greeted her at his office door, and with the typical inappropriate palm placed at her lower back, motioned for her to sit down in one of the plush chairs facing his bulky antique desk before making his way around to his own chair.

"What can I do for you, Rylee? Are you finding your temporary office space suitable?"

"It's fine, thank you," she answered. "But, in fact, there is something about it that has brought me here with a question."

"Well, I hope I am able to help. What's on your mind?"

"It's that strange machine in the lab, with the two tall columns. I was wondering if you knew anything about it."

The dean's expression clouded, though he quickly covered with a forced smile. "That would be what's left of Professor Norwood's defunct research project. Former professor, I should say, as far as this university is concerned. I'm sorry if it's an eyesore. I'm sure you'd prefer prettier surroundings. It has been on my list of things to address, and I'm thinking it's about time to have it removed."

"No, no," Rylee interjected, "Really, Ferdinand, I'm not here to burden you with unnecessary clean-up. You're busy enough. Actually, this is more of a professional curiosity about the machine. Do you know what it does? What was the focus of Professor Norwood's research?"

Dean Horowitz blew out a breath. "I'm afraid I have no idea what the apparatus was meant to measure, and I have to admit to being vague about Norwood's research goals. He satisfied my interest by securing ample funding for his work and the physics department, so I didn't give his project much scrutiny. I recall he had labelled some novel concept ..." The older man paused, rubbing his beard in thought, then gave up. "Quantum-super-something-or-other. I can't remember."

Rylee tried not to show her disappointment. "Do you know of a colleague or anyone who might know more?"

The dean knit his brows. "Why do you ask?"

"Oh, it's nothing, really," the biologist answered, keeping her tone light. "Like I said: curiosity. Whenever students visit me in my temporary office, they inevitably ask what the weird machine at the back of the room does. Most want it to be a transporter — it seems we have quite a number of Start Trek fans in this university. I just thought it would be nice if I could say something other than 'It doesn't grow so I don't know'."

The dean chuckled at her rhyme, thought for a moment, then said, "Norwood did have a grad student working with him in the early stages of this project. She may have played a part in developing the plans for whatever this machine was meant to do. But she didn't stick around long. I'm not sure why. Who knows with these young girls? Left to pursue her PhD elsewhere, Caltech if I remember correctly. So, no, I don't think there's anyone around who can explain Norwood's work. It's really not worth pursuing. Best to leave it be."

Rylee thanked the dean for his time and left. There was nothing more to learn from him. The grad student he mentioned was a more promising lead.

A visit to the Registrar's office revealed her name to be Cindy Shaw. It then took a few calls to reach the right place at Caltech to at least leave a message. She kept the message vague, but professional sounding, just a professor from another university with an inquiry for a PhD student.

Cindy called Rylee back on her cell phone that afternoon, fortunately catching her alone in a campus cafe. After introducing herself, Rylee dove right in.

"I understand that you worked with Professor Ethan Norwood before moving to Caltech. Is that right?"

Her question was greeted with a lengthy pause, then a flat "Yes."

Rylee pressed on. "I was hoping you could shed some light on the nature of Professor Norwood's research when you worked with him. In particular, the purpose of the apparatus he built in his lab, the one with the distinctive parallel towers."

"You're best to ask him about that directly," Cindy Shaw replied, with a tension in her voice bordering on hostility.

"Professor Norwood ... left the university several months ago. He's unavailable. Please, anything you can tell me could prove helpful."

Another pause was followed by a sharp sigh. "I don't know anything about the apparatus you described. He must have built it after I left. All I know is that I was excited to work with Professor Norwood to pursue my PhD and all I ended up doing was wasting a year of my life with his garbage. I had to start all over again at Caltech."

"His garbage?" Rylee prodded.

"Yeah, his wild theories. I was drawn in by his enthusiasm, but the math is garbage and the whole theory is ridiculous."

"What was this theory?"

Cindy snorted. "He called it quantum superposition phase control. I've spent the past two years trying to forget everything about it, so I don't really want to revisit it. In a nutshell, it's a theory that many-body particle entanglements can be harnessed and suspended, essentially gaining control over the paradox of the same particle existing in two places at the same time. When I tried to tell him there was no formula to make it work, he didn't care. He was so sure it was real, that it could lead to —"

For a moment, Rylee though the call had cut off, but she heard the young woman breathing. "Could lead to what?" she prodded.

"Like I said, all it led to was a year of my life wasted. If you're looking for stories of particle transportation or phase invisibility, grab some comic books. Or talk to Ethan Norwood himself, because I'm sure he still believes it. But I'm trying to build a career as a serious physicist, and Norwood's theory about controlling quantum displacement and phase shifting was nothing more than a fantasy. If he built some computer apparatus to test his theory, you can bet it was nothing but a waste of grant money. Look, I'm sorry Professor Cantrell, I don't mean to be rude, but I really don't want to talk about this anymore. I have to go."

Rylee let the young PhD student off the phone, not wanting to agitate her further.

Back in her office — Ethan's lab — she paced the floor, unable to sit still. She didn't understand any of what Cindy Shaw had said, but she couldn't shake the eeriness of how what she scoffed at as comic book fantasy sounded a lot like what Rylee was seeing with her own eyes. Particle transportation? Phase invisibility? Sounded like perfect descriptions for the materializing man.

She looked across the room at Ethan's mysterious machine. Could that contraption have done something to Ethan? Could he be the victim of some sort of experiment gone wrong? Maybe the Gone Prof wasn't gone at all. Maybe he was trapped right here in the lab. Maybe he was calling for help.

Maybe, maybe, maybe ...

She shook her head, which was beginning to throb. This was all too much to absorb easily. She decided to call it a day.

* * * * * * *

In the following few days, while it could be said that Professor Rylee Cantrell functioned up to the required standards of her duties in the biology department, her mind was consistently elsewhere ...

Ethan.

The more she cogitated on what Cindy Shaw had said and the more she considered the scientific possibilities, no matter how outlandish, the more she saw the logic. "Phase invisibility," the grad student had said. Could such a state be real? The machine. It all had to do with that device.

Alone in the lab at the end of classes, Rylee stood between the two pillars of Ethan's mysterious machine. She peered into the silent room, thought about what she had been feeling so tempted to try, then stopped thinking and took a leap.

"Ethan?" she whispered timidly. Then, more forcefully, "Ethan!"

No answer.

"Ethan, show yourself!"

Nothing.

She couldn't help feeling foolish. What did she really think was going to happen?

She reached her arms out to her sides, resting a hand on each of the towers. The metal was cool and smooth. She ran her hands up the surfaces, then back down and up again. The motion brought a lewd grin to her lips as she noted the distinctly phallic aspect of the two rigid towers.

Her left finger snagged on something. Taking a closer look, she saw a faint charring defining the edge of a slightly lifted panel. She tried prying at it with her fingernails, but it was on too tight.

Retrieving a pair of scissors from her desk, she returned to the column and worked at the panel until a four-by-six-inch sheet of metal popped off and clattered to the floor. Beneath it was a small circuit board. Rylee knew nothing about electronics, but she doubted that the blackened circuits and warped surface were normal. It looked like some kind of burnout.

Looking across the room and seeing the burgundy sofa, she recalled the moment of her interrupted cunnilingus and the position of the ghostly intruder. She was now standing exactly where she had seen the apparition of Ethan standing. He had pointed at the tower on his left. Pointed exactly to the burned-out circuit board she had just uncovered.

Could her crazy theory be correct? If so, was there a way to communicate with Ethan, to reconstitute his form? Or were his appearances just random?

Looking again at the two phalluses standing before her, she remembered something else about Ethan's appearances. Both times he had been naked. And both times he had sported a full erection. Why?

She ambled over to the windows and stared out at the open sky, giving her mind time to review and process. As the consistencies emerged, the conclusion seemed obvious — though absurd.

"No," she murmured. "It can't be."

Slowly she turned around to face the sofa — where a few days ago she had spread her legs for the hot young Brazilian to lick her pussy, where two weeks ago she had hiked up her dress and reached into her panties to finger herself.

Both times, that's when Ethan's hazy figure had appeared.

And it was on that very same sofa that he had uttered his confession: "You should know that I'm strongly voyeuristic."

"Oh god ... maybe it can be."

Rylee crossed the room to the sofa, then reversed back to the window, then repeated the circuit two more times. Finally, she decided there was nothing to lose — as long as she locked the door.

With the bolt in place, she stepped slowly toward the sofa, but didn't sit down on it. Yes, she had been sprawled across its soft cushions on those two past occasions, but this wasn't about the sofa. This was about what lay hidden beneath her tapered blouse and contoured skirt. She felt certain of that now. It was as if she could feel Ethan already watching her. The thought sparked a tingle in her tummy.

Taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes and ran her hands slowly down her figure, letting out a long soft moan with her exhalation. Unzipping her skirt, she swayed her hips from side to side as she slid it down and let it fall to the floor. She wore her black panties with the delicate lace trim today, and now she was glad she did. She stepped out of her skirt and executed a full turn in her high heels.

"Ethan," she said in a sultry whisper. "I know how you like to watch. Do you like these panties? Do you like how they shape my ass, how the lace follows the trim and disappears between my legs? You do remember what it looks like between my legs, don't you?" She gave a throaty giggle. "Of course you do, you naughty boy. Twice now I caught you peeking as I lay on that very sofa there with my legs spread open."

Was that a flicker she saw, near the window? Or was she just being hopeful? No, she had to believe. She had to continue.

Slowly, button by button, she undid her blouse, first revealing a bit of cleavage, then more, then a glimpse of the lacy black bra that matched her panties.

"Remember these, Ethan?" Three buttons left. "I remember how you caressed them, squeezed them, sucked them." Two buttons left. "I remember how you watched them jiggle with each of your hard thrusts into me." Last button. "I wonder if you'd like to see all that again."

Rylee peeled off her blouse and dropped it on the floor, revealing her large breasts slung in the sexy bra. "Are you looking now, Ethan?"

Out of nowhere, a shimmering figure formed before her, translucent but undeniably real. This time she was expecting the appearance and looked directly at him without fear, and her theory was confirmed beyond doubt — it was Ethan.

She stared with wide eyes. The transparent figure stared back at her, then flickered and disappeared. Only then did she realize she had frozen, looking like a stupid, lifeless mannequin. Not sexy.

"Dammit! Idiot!" she scolded herself, then quickly regained her composure, not wanting to lose him. She had to focus, had to bring him back. Placing one hand over her chest and the other over her crotch, she put a feigned bashful expression on her face.

"You startled me, coming out of nowhere like that."

She smiled slyly as her hands shifted from covering her lingerie to caressing the curves of her body.

"Speaking of coming ... I noticed just then that you had quite a hard on. Are you hard for me, Ethan?"

She ran her hands up to her chest and squeezed her boobs together, emphasizing her cleavage between the bra cups. Then she ran a hand down her belly to the silky material of her panties and started rubbing her fingers between her legs.