Sex on the Brain Ch. 01

Wordlessly, we embraced, and I felt the joy of her molding herself to me. I kissed her, and her lips parted readily, softly accepting me. My right hand was on her breast, as I held her around the waist with my left. She purred as I began to caress her, enjoying the moment in which I would find her perfect rhythm and guide her into complete readiness for my entry.

And then she drew away!

"Richard, I'm not ready for this." She paused. "I have too many responsibilities at home. I have to go now! But I do find the thought very sweet... very appealing."

"What are we going to do about this then?" I posed the question to her, since she so clearly wanted to go further. She reflected quietly for a minute in my arms, while I looked into her eyes.

"What time will you be in bed tonight?" She stayed in my arms, rising on her toes so that she could whisper this, letting her warmth surround my restrained erection. I told her when I usually went to bed, and when I did that, she drew away and was off in a hurry down the hall.

The rest of the day was unusually quiet, with no one in to see me. I was very productive as I sublimated my desire for Jeanne into an office housecleaning. It was not really till I had stretched out in bed that all the pieces begin to fall together.

I had been so busy that even answering e-mail from several of my former students/lovers did not seem to have turned me on. Ginna, I know that you enjoy that, too-- it's so interesting seeing what they are doing in life after the university experience. You can also imagine why it was odd that I was so unaffected by doing this, as your mind brings them back to the times when you had them, and you know how good that remembering feels.

Now, I supposed that was catching up with me, for as I lay there, I did not sleep. On my back, it was easy for my manhood to loll around, filling out so gradually that it first I did not notice it. I guess it really was not until I felt my penis lifting willfully off my tummy that I understood how horny the day had left me.

Of course, it was Jeanne who I thought most of at that point, as my balls rolled urgently now. I found that my hands moved without plan on my part, as if they offered a lover's exploring touch. She took shape in my mind, descending over me, bending down to brush her hair across my face, capturing me between hot thighs, opening for me, deeper and deeper. And then I exploded, inside her I thought, squeezing as hard as I could to throw my self up into her.

"Richard!" She sighed as her own orgasm shuddered into little fits and starts. She smiled lovingly down at me.

I awoke, or rather came out of my trance, with warm cum strung far across my belly. If the bed had not been cold next to me, I would have expected to find her there. Her presence was still in the room.

The next day, Jeanne was back in the lab to assist me with another experiment-- an officially programmed one, I should note. As we went about our work of setting things up for the test subject, I kept eyeing her, and she smiled seraphically. In fact, she smiled like a woman who knew things about me that could only be learned in bed.

"Richard!" She sighed as we passed close to each other, and the tone was a duplicate of what I had imagined, or still told myself that I had imagined.

"You still don't believe me, do you?" She said that with a resigned, bemused expression. "The more that we communicate with each other, the better I will get at contacting you. Do you need another example?"

"I'm not sure what that could be. You're taking this way past anything that I have pinned down in tests." I knew that was the wrong thing to say as soon as it was out of my mouth.

Jeanne's eyes grew wide for a moment, and then she raised her chin defiantly and nodded at me as if to show me that I would be proved wrong. I did not get a chance to re-word that comment as I wanted to, though, because just then our test subject came into the room.

Kerry was a cheerleader, and I suppose that causes you to be alert for stereotyping. It is just that Kerry must have tried out for the stereotype team-- she just fit the part too perfectly. Her bouncy, high energy manner, and perennial good humor were a bit much. On the other hand, she was as guileless as anyone could be, unlike her friend Cindy. She worked hard at being beautiful and she applied herself to her studies, too. [1999 editor's note: you may recall that the Professor's later involvement with Cindy led to his conflict with the department chairman, and may have contributed to his forced resignation from the University.]

Neither she nor anyone in her circle had yet come to my attention sexually, believe it or not, and I had no reason to suspect that Jeanne knew her. Jeanne lived off-campus as she finished up on a degree program that had started long ago. Kerry had come directly in from college and lived in a sorority [1999 editor's note: the same one that Cindy belonged to.].

While I had not been involved with Kerry, I could not say that I had not noticed her. Aside from her energy, her long, blonde hair caught my eye as it swished back and forth the day I saw her running late to a class. Now, as she entered the room, I realized that her generous bust line was accentuated by a lot of effort that had gone into dieting and exercise. Her pleated skirt hung on carefully formed hips, her sweater came back in a bit from its display of her bosom to show that her waist was satisfyingly slim. Her smile was genuine, but also perfectly formed with straight teeth.

I made a mental note of how interesting it was that I was noticing all these things about her. Of course, I was trying to stay clear of involvements with students, but I guessed that it did not hurt to simply enjoy her carefully prepared appearance. She really was not my type, anyway. As you know, I have usually had intellectual involvements with my lovers as much as sexual involvements. Kerry was a serious student, but not really in love with learning. Jeanne helped her to organize herself at the test desk, saying little, and then took her position for the test. "Now, Kerry, Mrs. Boudreaux will be the "transmitter" on this test. Try not to think about seeing her, as she'll be sitting over there behind the screen. I'm going to give her a series of picture cards and you a series of blank cards, and you are to take as long as you want with each image. Sketch a rough picture of what comes to your mind, and then tell us when to begin the next image. Simple enough?"

"Yes!" She smiled pertly, smoothing her hair back over her shoulder.

"Go ahead and close your eyes for a moment of relaxation." I moved to my chair in front of her.

"First, I'll close the blinds and lock the door so that you'll not be interrupted. I'm flipping on the "Test in Progress" light now. Let's just have a quiet time first, and then when I ring this chime on my desk, we'll begin. Okay?" The room was deep in the building, on a light well, and insulated against most sounds. I rang the small chime.

Kerry opened her eyes and looked at the blank card for what seemed like a long time, and then drew a banana. She looked inquiringly up at me when she finished, but as I had no idea of which image cards Jeanne was using, I could not respond in any way.

"Next image please," she said. After another long pause, she began to draw a picture of a woman eating a banana. I noticed that she was shifting in her chair, and I recorded that in the notes.

The next image was of a man eating strawberries. I didn't remember this series of cards. Jeanne, I supposed, had made some of her own. Kerry seemed to be becoming more and more restless. She looked long and hard at the next blank card.

"Professor, it would be hard for me to draw this. May I act it out?" Without waiting for my approval, she rose in her chair. A blush began on her face and worked down her neck into her sweater. I could imagine it going further, as now I was aware of the rhythmic rise and fall of her breasts. In fact, I was becoming enchanted with the idea of finding out just how perfectly shaped they might be.

"I'm very warm," she said matter-of-factly, as she pulled off her sweater. Her racerback bra was very white and very full. Her breasts strained at it as she bent over slightly to slip off the pleated skirt. Her white string bikini was unelaborate, but revealed how much her weight control program and body shaping had paid off.

Perhaps my mouth was wide open, but now my brain was fully engaged through well-developed habits in its seduction mode. Even with her clothes coming off, she looked at me shyly, as if having second thoughts, then switched to a bold come-hither that seemed so much older than her yet tender age would suggest. I felt compelled to take her in my arms now, to reassure her that everything would be right, that this bold move of hers would be rewarded with beautiful moments and memories to come.

Ginna:

I need to excuse myself here and take care of something that has come up. I will drop this in the mail and then offer you the climax of this story in my next letter.

-- R

To be continued...