The Lab Bunny Experiment

The answer was, "Because they are so much fun."

When she lay down beside me, she had to snuggle against me because the twin mattress was too narrow for us to spread apart.

I liked that a lot.

"Tell me about your work," she said.

"It's not interesting."

"Tell me anyway."

I spent the next fifteen minutes telling her how I was developing yet another variation of a Kalman filter that would be optimized to separate the signal from the noise in certain network statistics that are important for security applications.

I was speaking by rote. My mind was entirely focused on the feel of her breasts against my naked chest, the weight of her naked thigh across my legs, and the caress of her hair against my neck.

That little twin mattress was my own little Cloud Nine.

After a few minutes, I became aware that she had fallen asleep in my arms. Her breathing was even slower and more regular than before.

I kept talking for fear that a sudden silence would awaken my beauty.

I wanted her to sleep in my arms until we had both grown old and gray together. But that could not be. After a few minutes, her fingers began to stir against my chest. Her breathing accelerated. And she began to whisper in a throaty voice, "Yes. That's wonderful. A calm man filter is just what a girl needs to feel secure."

She was half dreaming about what I had been saying, so I answered in kind. "You need a calm man to keep you safe and happy."

She smiled up at me, her eyes squinting open. "You can be my calm man, Stan." She raised her arm. "Goosebumps. I better slip that dress back on."

She stood and I slipped the dress over her head for her. I didn't see how a short-sleeved dress would make her arms any warmer, but mine is not to question why. What the lady wants, the lady gets.

As she adjusted the dress about her chest and hips, I slipped my shirt back on.

As soon as we were both dressed, she kissed me gently on the cheek and said, "That was a lovely introduction. Next time, we'll explore more intimately."

My heart began to pound anew at the thought.

Back in the main room, all the other grad students were staring at me in wonder.

The woman smiled at Ernesto. "I would like to make your acquaintance, sir. Would you care to join me?"

She took him into the back room and shut the door.

I had no doubt which option he would choose. Ernesto fancied himself a ladies man. Compared to the rest of us, he was, but that didn't make him anything special outside the computer science department.

I felt a twinge of envy but chided myself. She had made clear the first time she met us that she intended to be equally available to all. We would have to learn to keep our jealousy under control.

* * *

For the second day in a row, all six of us were in the lab before nine-thirty. After Ernesto, the woman had entertained Yit'gien with equal enthusiasm as nearly as we could tell. She was an equal opportunity mama. The gold band on Yit'gien's ring finger didn't slow her down for an instant.

Clearly she considered his marriage to be his problem, not hers.

If she had only entertained three of us yesterday, then it seemed likely that she would take only Marco, Will Lee, and Ahmed into the back room today.

I didn't expect to be on her schedule today. Which was fine. I was happy with what I had been given and what I had been promised soon.

"What do you think her game is?" Will Lee asked.

"She said that she wanted to reward us for our hard work," Ernesto replied. "I'm taking her at her word. I felt pretty well rewarded yesterday." He grinned like the lech that he was.

"Do you really believe that's all she wants?" Will asked.

"I believe that I got off with her," Ernesto said. "And I believe that it felt damned good. I'm not going to look any gift whore in the mouth."

Ernesto's crudeness offended me but I said nothing.

"She has to have some reason for doing this," Will said. "A normal woman wouldn't just walk into the lab and offer herself to six strange guys for nothing."

"So she's not normal," Ernesto said. "Viva la difference. I'll take our crazy groupie over a normal women any time."

"Maybe she's a spy," Yit'gien said. "She asked me to tell her about my work when we were alone yesterday."

"She asked me, too," I said.

"Yeah," Will Lee said, his eyes glittering. "That might be it. Some of us are working on network security issues. Maybe she's spying for a foreign government."

"Right," I said, letting my sarcasm show in my tone. "I'm sure that's why she's here. It would be too much trouble for her to read our publications. It's easier for her to spend her days in our lab making love to us than to attend the annual departmental conference and listen when we stand up and tell anyone in the room exactly what we are doing."

Will and Yit'gien looked at me in disappointment.

"That's right," I said. "We're graduate students, remember? We have to publish as much as we can to get a job after we graduate." I was sharply aware of this because I was beginning to look for a job myself. "We don't do anything that we can't put in the open literature. Not a single thing. If she's a spy, then she's the worst spy in the world if she's picked us to spy on."

At ten, the bell rang. Will Lee jumped to admit her. As she came into the room, she asked, "How are you all doing today?"

"Fine," we said, each in our own way.

I was thinking that she looked especially fine, today. She was wearing a green silk blouse and tan skirt. Her breasts moved freely inside the silk, making it flow and surge like a deep part of the ocean.

Though I did not expect to be alone with her today, or possibly emboldened because of that, I said to her, "Miss, we don't know your name."

"Names aren't important for the kind of relationship that we're having here."

"We have to call you something."

"Call me Bunny," she said. "That's what I am. Your laboratory bunny. Nothing else."

"Okay, Bunny," I said to her. "What would you like to do today?"

"I think it's time that I introduced myself to this young man," she said and put a hand on Will Lee's shoulder. "Would you join me in our private room?" she asked him.

He nodded and followed her across the lab.

She wasn't wasting any time on formalities today.

She spent an hour with Will, then came out and fetched Marco for the second hour. Ahmed was happy to forgo his regular lunchtime to spend the third hour with her.

The rest of us missed lunch, too. Not one of us was willing to step out of the lab as long as Bunny was in the back room with someone else.

After she returned Ahmed to his desk, she addressed us all. "I'm delighted that I've had a chance to get to know each of you. Tomorrow, I want to change our routine a little. I'm going to come here at ten in the morning, leave and then come back at two in the afternoon. That way, I'll spend a little time with one of you every morning and a little more time with another one of you in the afternoon. Do you think that'll be enough?"

We were happy to agree. That she wanted to come back at all was more than any of us could have hoped. Personally, I liked the idea because it meant that I wouldn't have to see her immediately after one of my lab mates. It wouldn't feel so much like I was sharing her. I suspect that everyone else in the lab felt about the same way. Maybe not Ernesto -- like I said, he's a bit of a lech -- but everyone else.

I spent the rest of the day working on my thesis out of fear that she would ask me about my work again. I didn't want to have to tell her that I hadn't done anything new.

* * *

The following morning, it was my turn to spend an hour with her again.

This time, she was wearing a black leotard and tights covered by a short white skirt. When I was following her across the lab to the back room, I couldn't stop looking at her back. She had piled her hair on top of her head in a complicated braid and the leotard plunged most of the way to the waistband of her skirt. Her back was almost entirely exposed.

I never before realized how sensual a woman's back could be. There are breast men and leg men and ass men, but I was becoming a back man. I'm not saying that I didn't like her breasts and legs and ass but none of those were as interesting as her back.

As soon as she locked the door behind me, I said, "Please turn around and face away from me."

She looked puzzled, but did as I asked.

I began caressing the skin that was left uncovered by the leotard, from the nape of her neck, down over her shoulders, across her shoulder blades, over her ribs, all the way down to her waist.

"I love your back," I said.

"Kiss it," she said.

I was happy to kiss every square inch of exposed skin.

When I was finished, she said, "Now rub your cheek over it."

I did. I had shaved when I got up, but I used an electric razor that left just enough stubble so that my cheek gently scratched her.

"Mmmm," she moaned and rolled her shoulders, making her back ripple against my face. "You have talent. With a little more practice, you're going to become a terrific lover. I'm going to love giving you all the practice you need."

She turned to face me. "Sit on the bed."

I sat and watched as she slid the skirt to the floor and stepped out of it. Then she kicked off her ballet slippers. The tights had stirrups rather than full feet so her toes and heels were bare.

She slowly slid the leotard from her shoulders, exposing an inch of skin at a time.

Twice already, I had already seen her full breasts with their cherry blossom pink nipples but they were just as breathtaking the third time.

I loved her back, but I had to love her breasts more. They were the perfect testament to her womanhood. It turned out that I wasn't a back man, after all. Mostly, I was a bunny man. I loved whatever part of her I was seeing at the time. Every part of our laboratory bunny was equally wonderful.

It seemed to take forever for her to get that leotard off but I didn't mind in the least. I treasured every second.

She was only slightly faster when removing her tights. Finally, she was left wearing nothing but a pair of black nylon panties and I was left with a raging erection in my pants.

"Your turn," she said, sitting on the edge of the bed. "Now I want to see you naked. Stand up and strip off."

I did as she asked. How could I refuse?

I may not be ripped, but I'm no gordo, either. I'm lean and tall and fair. I like to think of myself as the descendant of Vikings. If there had been nerds on Viking longboats, they would have looked just like me.

I had never stood naked in front of a woman before. Especially not in light this bright, trying not to look awkward as I was being inspected.

"You're lovely," she said.

I figured that she was lying. I'm okay. Not ugly, not a turn-off. But not especially handsome, either. Average. Maybe six out of ten if I want to flatter myself.

The downside of being as fair as me is that I blush the color of a fire engine all over.

She giggled and rose from the bed with the grace of a ballet dancer. "I want to feel your heat."

But it wasn't my hot face or chest that she went for. Her hand went straight to my rigid cock. When her fingers wrapped firmly around it, I almost fainted from ecstasy.

Then things got better. She sank to her knees and began kissing the tip. Not sucking or licking. Not putting it in her mouth. Not giving me an actual blowjob. Just kissing my cock gently and sweetly, first on the head, then down the underside of the shaft.

She seemed to like that part of me.

I couldn't suppress a groan of joy.

She pulled her head away and looked up at me with those wonderful green eyes. "I want this inside me. Will you fuck me, now?"

"God, yes," I said.

"Come to bed, my darling man." She rose and led me back to the bed, her hand never leaving my cock.

Sometime on that short walk she managed to lose her panties. I was too distracted to see how she did it. All I knew was that she was nude when she laid back and pulled me down beside her.

I saw auburn hair that matched the color on her head.

"Just wait a minute, darling," she said when I began to roll on top of her. She dipped a hand into the purse that was beside the bed and retrieved a little foil envelope. "Let me suit you up."

I'd never worn a condom before but I didn't have to worry about the details. With a magician's lightness of hand, she slipped the rubber out of the foil and unrolled it over my cock.

It felt tight around the base but I was so hard and eager that I didn't care.

In some distant part of my mind, I was thinking that she must have made the other guys wear rubbers, too. I liked that. It felt like I wasn't sharing her as much.

She pulled me on top of her and guided me into her.

I ascended to a higher cloud in heaven.

After a few minutes of rocking, pressing, thrusting, and moaning, we both flew to yet an even higher cloud.

I had never before felt a woman come beneath me. Feeling her writhe and jerk against me, hearing her soft screams of delight, being clutched to her as hard as she could squeeze brought me even more pleasure than feeling my own paroxysm of ecstasy.

The entire experience was a revelation. My previous fumbling couplings in the dark with self-conscious girls had given me no indication of how amazing sex could be with a woman who knew what she was doing.

Afterward, as I lay beside her, I felt myself falling in love with her.

I would do anything for this woman.

I would walk through fire for her.

I would fight an entire outlaw motorcycle gang for her.

I would die for her.

And I would be happy doing it.

* * *

I made love to the lab bunny twice more in the next week and a half. Each time was more amazing than the previous.

I was fast coming to suspect that this metaphorical heaven on earth offered a far taller stack of clouds to ascend than I could have guessed from my prior limited experience.

When the bunny wasn't around, the guys talked about her. We all saw her differently. To Ernesto, she was the Mary Magdalene, his holy whore. To Marco, she was a mother who gave him far more than maternal love. To Yit'gien, she was an exotic barbarian foreigner, wild and untamed. To Ahmed, she was a houri sent to bring a taste of paradise to earth. To Will Lee, she was a Western geisha, expert in the arts of the flesh.

From this, I realized that she did different things in the back room with each of us. That meant was that there was a world of new experiences waiting for me if I grew bold enough to ask for them.

I also realized that each of the other students had fallen as deeply in love with her in their own way as I had in mine.

We were not stupid. We knew that she had deliberately ensnared us for some purpose of her own. But we didn't care. We were horny young men who were happy to be held in thrall by our hormones. If she wanted to play us like a string sextet, we would sing her tune and like it. I loved the word sextet. I only regretted that it included six of us when I wanted to be a soloist. I was sure that I was not the only one of us to hold that sentiment but we all managed to keep our jealousy in check because infighting would kill the golden goose. One sixth of a bunny was infinitely better than nothing.

On Friday morning, as she was leaving, she said, "I'm going to take Friday afternoons off." She smiled at Marco, who expected to be next. "I hope you don't mind, Marco. I'll make it up to you on Monday. Don't you worry about that."

Marco's happy grin said that he didn't mind. He would spend the weekend dreaming about coming back to the lab on Monday.

She continued, "But I would like to come back here at two today and talk to you a little. Will you all be here?"

Of course we'd be here. Not one of us would miss a minute of her company, even if she remained fully clothed and stayed on the far side of the room from us.

When she returned in the afternoon, she was wearing a cotton sundress with a floral pattern printed on it.

She looked like the virginal girl next door. I wanted her so badly that I could taste the testosterone. Don't lecture me about the physiology of hormones and the anatomical impossibility of my metaphor. I'm well familiar with the taste of testosterone when it's pumping through my body so hard that it's overflowing my veins.

"I want to tell you about my grandmother," she said. Her voice was somber. Even grim.

"I'm sure that you've all heard about Nigerian money scams and their cousins, British lottery scams, IRS refund scams, and so forth. You've hear of them but my grandmother never had. Not until I bought her a computer and set her up on the Internet two years ago.

"She loved her new computer. She talked to people on Skype every day. She sent massive numbers of emails. Before the computer she had been getting lonelier every year but now she was connecting with old friends, getting daily updates from her family, joking and gossiping constantly. It seemed to me that she was growing younger again every time I talked to her.

"Then, after using the computer for several months, she started looking worried. I asked her if anything was wrong but she wouldn't talk about it. After a few weeks, she was withdrawing from me and everyone else. No one knew what was the matter. I took a week off from work and drove out to Indiana to talk to her in person.

"It was worse than I could have guessed. She cried constantly while she told me that she'd received an email from Kenya about a multi-million-dollar inheritance that was waiting for her. She had a great uncle who'd served in the British army in the Boer war and thought that he might have had something to do with it.

"As soon as she told the scammers about her great uncle, she was lost. They hooked her good, reeled her in and gutted her. She showed me the emails. Their lies were terrible. They told her that her uncle had fathered an illegitimate child and she was the sole surviving heir. But she needed to pay some fees. Then some duties. Then some bribes. Then they threatened her with exposure and prison. Finally, they claimed that the South African secret police were looking for her and wanted to assassinate her. They forced her to give them her banking information. They took her money, her savings, made her mortgage her house, and borrow every penny she could on her credit cards. She had nothing left. She was a pauper. She couldn't afford to buy food. The utility companies were threatening to cut off her water and power. The bank had begun eviction proceedings.

"Of course, I took her straight to the police. She didn't want to say anything to anybody. She felt foolish and embarrassed. But I made her tell the whole story to the authorities. There was nothing that they could do. The thieves were long gone and far away.

"She's on welfare, now. Living in a cheap, dirty apartment. Broken, sick, dying.

"We can't get her money back. I know that. But I want revenge. I want to destroy the Nigerian money scammers and all their ilk. I want to be certain that they can never to destroy another grandmother again. I want you to help me. You're geniuses. Working together, we're smarter than them. We can do it."

We looked at each other in dismay. We knew her hidden agenda now. She wasn't giving us sex just for the joy of it.

I spoke up. "We'd all love to help you. More than you know. But I don't think that there's anything that we can do. We're not hackers like you see on television. We can't find them and break into their computers and wipe out their bank accounts. These schemes have been going on for a long time, even before there were computers. The Internet has just made it easier for them. If these thieves could be stopped, someone would have stopped them a long time ago. I'm sorry."