Summer Internship

"Randall Lapaha." The name felt torn out of me.

Her fingers tapped once more, and her mouth tightened. "Just him? Or... were there others? Say, his friends..."

"No!" This time it came out as a choked squeal. I had no idea what she was doing to me: I just wanted her gone. "Just him."

"Group sex practices are common in ritualistic societies," she pointed out mildly. "It wouldn't be that unusual, if my research is correct." She arched an eyebrow. "Rape fantasies, maybe? Like, the idea of possession?"

"Possession." I sighed. It felt good to get that word out, my breath wavering harshly. I licked my lips. "Yes. Something like that. Look, I don't mean to be rude, but I've got a busy afternoon and an early morning..."

"Of course." She nodded, serene, her smile once again warm and friendly. "You've been so helpful. Can I get your number? In case I have other questions?" I gave it, against a dragging sense of unwillingness in my heart; I reasoned she'd be able to look my office number up on the university website, anyway. "Thanks!"

"Yeah." I watched numbly as she slid coolly up out of the seat, rising with an athlete's grace I'd never had. "Um. Alicia?" She looked down at me, one eyebrow arched. "If... like, when you contact Randall?" I sighed. "Don't call him Randy. He hates it."

He did, too. He'd dug his belt out the night I'd slipped up and called her that. It had been the most intense orgasm of my life, which scared me still. Alicia winked. "I'll keep it in mind."

And then she swayed out of my office, leaving me troubled. Confused. And quite wet.

* * *

I was still pondering the conversation as I roamed the watershed before dawn the next day, aiming to be at my little canyon before sunup. Goddamn, I mused to myself, squinting at the luminous lines on my compass, I need an intern. The navigation and the hiking were the parts of this job I loved; the rest? Data collection and monitoring? Recording? Checking and rechecking transmitter counts? Cataloging the tags and correlating them with the weekly census?

Any student could do that shit.

I decided, as I hopped nimbly over a trailing root, that I'd finally pull the trigger. I'd ask Dr Brennan if I could offer credit for a summer intern. Or two. Or three. I knew he respected my work, but I also knew I wasn't really on the faculty. I certainly wasn't grading anybody, and I wasn't sure he could even authorize internships. I just had no idea how any of this worked.

Academia was not my day job, after all. Fish were, and the State paid me pretty well to walk in the woods and make sure the right ones were spawning properly.

So I did that, and by lunchtime I was loping past the ranger hut back at the gate. Luchese had been surly when I'd called her the day before, and I wasn't surprised when I hadn't seen her unlocking the gate for me at three in the morning. She'd sent her partner, Jacobsen, with his big sleek body and those eyes that felt like they could see through your clothes. "Hey, Karl," I'd smiled when I'd arrived. "Sorry to drag you out of bed."

He'd simply smiled. He wasn't my type, at all, but yet I found myself wondering how he fucked.

I was thinking about things like that a lot these days. I'd not gotten laid since that last night with Randall, four months ago now. I'd climbed into my Subaru and headed east the very next morning, his semen still leaking out of me as I drove, crying, into my new life. Here I was, thirty-two and single, with zero prospects on the horizon other than daydreaming about burly old professors or Fish and Game cops, my fingers buried deep in my vag as I brought myself off...

Yes. I was thinking about things like that a lot these days.

I emailed Brennan from my tablet even before I pulled out of the Ray Peak parking lot, determined to get some help. It was late early June already, and a hot summer stomping around the hills with no assistance back at the lab was not something I was interested in. I made the point that my research was a State thing, but that the University was benefiting from it too. That two or three credits for doing the grunt work of data collection was something that any University department should be able to support, even if there weren't enough bio majors in the fishery program to get direct benefit. "Let's do this," I muttered to myself as I hit SEND.

Jacobsen nodded at me as I pulled away, and once more I caught myself thinking about him. How bestial he might be as he took me. How good he looked in uniform. How his penis might taste.

That's why I was shuddering as I drove away.

* * *

I took a shower at the little apartment I'd found on Mill Street, across from St Bede's (easily the ugliest piece of church architecture I'd ever seen) before heading back to the lab for my afternoon checks... this, I reflected as I swerved into the campus, was precisely why I was hoping I could get a summer intern or two. If nothing else, I needed the savings on gas, moving from the park to the University to the apartment, endlessly tracking the fishies.

I took the stairs up to the lab. Second floor; it's never worth waiting for the elevator, even though my knees protested after my morning scrabbling around in Ray Peak. As I made the turn into the Fish Biology corridor, I could see someone waiting in the hall down by 214. Whoever it was had the classic student pose: leaning against the wall, leg cocked, head down toward a cellphone. I wondered who the fuck it could be, assuming it was someone for Dr Brennan waiting outside the wrong office, but as I drew nearer I found I was wrong. "Alicia?"

"Oh!" She straightened, popping a pair of earbuds from beneath her wavy hair, and turned to me with a broad smile. She'd given herself a touch of makeup, I could see, and was very prettily dressed in a loose tanktop with a long skirt. Fuck, she looked beautiful. "Hi, Annabeth. I was hoping you'd come by."

"Oh?" I was very conscious of my cargo pants and my old flannel. Not to mention my modest tits, my relative hiplessness, my overlarge nose, my close-set eyes, my resting bitch face, my thin lips, my nondescript hair... Alicia Romano had a way of reminding me how plain I thought I looked.

Good thing she hadn't brought her friend Kaylen. That one was dangerous. I made myself smile. "What can I do for you, Alicia?"

"I just wanted to tell you how much I appreciate you jumpstarting my research." She brushed a tendril of her thick hair from her eyes, every motion precise and lovely. She reached casually into her top and pulled something out from inside her bra, a small envelope that she handed to me. "For you, Dr Ronson. With my thanks."

"Oh! Shit. There's no need..." I took the little envelope mindlessly, warm and a little curved from her body, feeling a plastic card inside. It turned out to contain a Harborside Book and Tea giftcard. "Really, you shouldn't have..."

"It's not much," she protested, holding up her hands, "just a couple of cups of coffee. But you really have changed the direction of my research, and I'm very excited about it." Her smile spread. "Very excited. I'm looking at all kinds of different sexual practices now that I never even thought of. There'll be a whole separate Indian chapter now, plus maybe the indigenous peoples of Central America." She frowned, remembering. "The Yamaquira people."

"That's Native American," I corrected automatically, but I was feeling almost giddy; I'd never gotten anything like this before, just for answering a few questions. "Really, Alicia. You didn't have to."

"I know."

"I really didn't mind helping at all." I hesitated, on the verge of asking whether she'd gotten ahold of Randall, but she was already moving on.

"Yeah, I found some cool stuff about intracrural sex among other tribes," she shrugged. "Really interesting."

"Intra-what?" I didn't want to appear gossipy, but I thought it would be polite to ask. Plus, I was nudging again toward that low-grade horniness I usually had to deal with here.

"Intracrural? Just masturbation, really. No penetration. Men rubbing their cocks on other people." She smiled helpfully. "Like a titfuck."

"Oh." I looked quickly down, blushing. "I wouldn't know about that."

"Well," she giggled, "we can't all be as stacked as Kaylen." She tucked her hair back again, her eyes flickering to my chest. "Listen, I did have a few more questions for you, but I don't really have time right now. Could we meet again?"

On a whim, I held up my giftcard. "Coffee?"

"Aw!" Her face lit up. "Sounds perfect. Tomorrow's Saturday; how about eleven?"

"Oh my god! Sure!" It almost felt like friendship. "That'd be great."

"My roommate Vickie has my car for the weekend," she shrugged, "if you don't mind picking me up..."

"No problem." I glanced along the hallway at the big windows down at the end. "Are you in the dorms?"

"The suites. McWhittier Hall. Room 505." She gathered her bag off the floor. "See you then, Annabeth!"

"It'll be fun," I said to her back as she strutted down toward the elevator, her skirt swishing like a horse's tail. "Bye..."

She waved gaily over her shoulder. "Look forward to it." She didn't look back, certainly, as she pranced off.

* * *

I made an effort the next day, moving my Saturday trap check to Sunday and putting on one of my two summer dresses. I even put on some lipstick, though as always I drew the line at anything else. I'd always felt like a fraud with a lot of makeup on.

McWhittier was one of the older dorm buildings, now subdivided in odd and mazelike ways, with its own dining hall in the bottom and floor after floor of three- or four-person mini-apartments. Living room, bathroom, kitchenette, and two bedrooms was the rule. I found all that out on the internet when I searched for directions before heading out in my Subaru, for I had very little clue how to get around the campus. Other than the way to the Deesy Hall parking lot.

I pulled up outside the tall building and looked around a little uncertainly; I guess I'd expected Alicia to be waiting at the curb, but there was no sign of anyone except one of the obese security guards, frumping at the end of the parking lot. I hooked my University pass over the rearview mirror and made my doubtful way up the walk to the big glass doors with the speakerbox beside them. I waited a moment, uncertain, before I stooped and tapped 505 into the little keypad there.

A sharp click greeted me. "Yeah?" The voice sounded flat, tinny. I wasn't sure if it was Alicia's.

"Uh, how do I get in?" The speaker stared at me in reproachful silence. "I'm, um, here to pick up Alicia Romano? Will she be down soon?"

The silence continued a few more seconds before I heard a godawful buzzing noise from the door before me. I blinked at it, then clawed it open quickly, afraid I'd miss the security lock. "Thanks!" I called to the speaker, slipping into the air-conditioned cool of the lobby. A bored RA sat by the mailboxes, eyeing me suspiciously as I headed for the elevator bank. I wondered whether I was supposed to sign in or something, but a questioning glance his way told me he wasn't going to say anything to me.

The elevator delivered me into the same kind of dorm hallway I'd had when I'd been an undergraduate, even though I'd been to a much better school. I stepped off, smoothing my dress, and got my bearings quickly before heading vaguely off toward what I hoped was room 505.

The cheap steel door had a whiteboard on it, its edges grimy with repeated wipings. A trio of paper cutouts, evidently clinging to the door from a few forlorn pieces of Scotch tape ever since last fall, told me that this was the residence of Kaylen R, Alicia R, and Vickie J. I hesitated, glancing up and down the hallway, then knocked tentatively.

"Coming!" It might have been the same voice that had squawked out of the speaker; in any case, I barely had time to decide before the door opened to reveal an unfamiliar young woman with a bagel in her hand. She seemed to be wearing nothing but a long t-shirt. I took in tanned legs, small breasts, and an abnormally long neck holding up a face as pretty as her roommates'. "Yeah?"

"I'm, uh, picking up Alicia," I said again, sticking out my hand. "I'm Annabeth."

"Vickie." She toasted me with her bagel, ignoring my hand. "So she's trying girls now. Interesting. Come on in," she nodded, super-cool, turning back toward the little kitchenette on the right. "She's in the shower," she added over her shoulder, and as I heard the vague clink and clatter of Vickie getting a cup of coffee, I took in the common room: greenish cinderblock walls with random posters, a TV in the corner, a seedy-looking sectional dominating most of the space around a coffee table with a large bong and several empty bottles on it, and a naked man fast asleep on the couch.

He lay sprawled, a big older guy with tattooed arms and a lot of what looked like expensively-barbered facial hair. He snored loudly, one leg stretched out along the sectional while the other foot rested on the floor. At some point it looked like someone had thrown a blanket over him, but it had slithered to join that foot on the floor. His penis, long and thick and covered with faintly glistening muck, lay across his upper thigh with a big pair of balls hanging low beneath. "Umm," I ventured, finding it hard to look away.

Vickie came across to join me in a steamy cloud of fragrant coffee, standing beside me in silent regard. She was a little shorter than me; I heard her teeth slice off a bite of the bagel. "I wonder who fucked him," she reflected.

"Yeah." I could think of nothing else to say. A couple of used condoms littered the floor, but they didn't look particularly fresh. "Should we cover him up?"

"Why?" She sipped her coffee and shrugged. "You tired of looking at that cock?" It was, I had to admit, a nice one, lying there with an air of latent menace, as if it was just lurking in wait before it chose another pussy to slay. I shuddered. "Yeah. Me neither," she sighed. She blew me away, then, by stooping low over the man and taking a deep whiff of his penis. "Yeah, I think that's Kaylen," Vickie said thoughtfully, chewing on another bite of her bagel, but around that time I heard a door creak open somewhere deeper in the suite and whirled to see what was coming next.

Ah. It was Alicia, completely naked other than a pair of red panties, emerging from the hallway with a towel wrapped around her head and a toothbrush mangling her words. "Vick, I've got someone stopping over in a few minutes..." she stopped short, her toothbrush dangling as she saw me standing in her living room. "Fuck," she blurted. I found myself staring at her chest, her two firm breasts jutting, topped by brown nipples over a smooth belly with the wink of a navel piercing gleaming against her tanned flesh.

She was breathtaking.

"She's already arrived," Vickie smirked unnecessarily. "She doesn't seem like your type, Alicia," she observed, but I was already looking away into the kitchen.

"Sorry if I'm early," I managed, knowing I was bright red.

"No. Shit." Alicia stood there showing no shame, the toothbrush finally out. "I think I slept late. I'm sorry, Annabeth." She shrugged. "Make yourself at home. I'll just throw something on..." She was already turning away, me trying hard to avoid looking at where the red thong slipped between the cheeks of her perfectly sculpted ass as she strode quickly back toward the bedrooms. I turned back to a knowing smile from Vickie.

"You two fucked yet?"

"No!" I squeaked. "It's not like that at all. I'm helping her with her research."

She barked a short chuckle. "Yeah. I know what she's researching." She snickered as she made her way back to the kitchen, leaving me alone with the comatose man on the couch and his well-used genitals.

This was absolutely nothing like my own college experience.

I stood there, nervous, with literally nothing to do but stare at a nude man, which I went ahead and did. It was my first penis since Randall, and I found myself daydreaming at once: I thought about it getting hard, rising up out of the coarse dark hair that hid the root and then marched down alongside his scrotum to disappear in the shadow of his crotch. His chest was hairy too, which intrigued me. Randall had been nearly hairless, and honestly I hadn't had all that many other men.

How would my nipples feel, I wondered, grazing among all that dark fur...

I nearly jumped when I felt a hand on my waist, the arm it belonged to wrapping around me. My nose filled suddenly with the smell of roses, wafting off Alicia's lustrous hair. "He doesn't look like much," she murmured, watching the man with me, "but Kaylen was screaming all night. So he must have known how to use what he had."

"I thought it was Kaylen." Vickie's voice, unseen from the kitchen, sounded vaguely triumphant.

"Come on." I felt the hand leave my waist and take my hand, guiding me away. "Let's go. I want coffee."

With one last glance at the sleeping man's package, I let myself be led down the elevator and through the lobby. "I've got to say, Alicia," I laughed, trying for a dry, carefree tone, "I wasn't expecting to see that when your roommate let me in."

"Yeah." She put on some big sunglasses as we emerged into the sunlight. "I'm not sure I even got his name. He let me play with him a little, but it was obviously Kaylen he was into." She chuckled. "And why not? You've seen her tits."

"Wait." I unlocked my car and gestured toward the passenger side. "You played with him?"

"Research," she winked, getting in. She didn't put a seatbelt on. She'd stepped into some grey tights and a short-sleeved black shirt that left her navel piercing exposed. "Remember what I told you about he Yamaquira?" She gazed keenly over at me as I pulled out, and my mind raked back over what she'd told me... outside my office... the giftcard...

"Intracrural, you said?"

She gave me a smug grin, pleased that I'd remembered. "They used to get each other off in pre-Colombian times by simulating sex. Running the glans along the labia? Sort of... daring themselves not to fuck?" She shook her head. "Fascinating. But nobody knows why they did it."

"So... you thought you'd give it a try? With an anonymous stranger?" I wondered whether I sounded as disapproving as I feared I might.

"I thought it might give me some insight." She shrugged. "He wouldn't get into the spirit of it, though, unfortunately. Kept trying to put it in. So I left him with Kaylen and... well." A slow smile curled her full lips. "Kaylen isn't as much of a tease as I am."

I drove in silence, turning right along the coast, atop the high bluffs overlooking the beaches. "Do you guys do that kind of thing a lot?"

"Hmm?" She'd been texting. "Do what? Let a guy play with my pussy?"

"No," I replied slowly, blushing, "I mean sharing. Like, sharing men."

She laughed, a musical sound. She didn't ask before she reached over and fucked with my AC settings; it was already summer-hot. "All the time," she shrugged. "I've known Kaylen for years, and Vickie... well, she fits in perfectly with us." She sighed. "Just three horny bitches, trying to get by. Ever fucked a total stranger? It's fun!"

I forced a guilty smile. "We didn't do stuff like that in college," I admitted.

"No," she said after a pause, quietly, "you waited until you got out. And then you did what people expected you to do: good grades. Grad school. A thesis." She turned her head and looked at me seriously. "And then you went off into the desert and you gave yourself to a mysterious man from an older culture. You let him have every piece of you. And?"

She didn't go on. I was gripping the wheel very tightly "And?"

"And what were you expecting?" She sounded more gentle now. "Happily ever after? A local Rez cop settling down with the spinsterish government researcher?" She glanced again at her phone. "You gave him everything. He offered nothing. Right?"