Timepoints

Author's note:

This is my submission for the "On the Job" story event 2020. This story involves an Indian woman and a white man-if that's not the kind of interracial you're into, I encourage you to find a different story. Otherwise, enjoy!

***

Brandon cracked open a can of energy drink and took a hesitant first sip. The flavor was "Birthday Cake Bash" and it tasted like vanilla cake frosting, in bubbly liquid form. Not bad, compared to others, but he wasn't drinking it for its taste. It was 6:30 p.m. and he was preparing to stay up all night long.

He had pulled all-nighters before, usually to study for important college exams. But this situation was a little different, although it was still related to education, in a way. It was summer and he had been accepted into an REU program—Research Experiences for Undergraduates. Basically, it was a way for him to spend the summer at a different university (one with a better research program than his own) and do scientific research. His housing was paid for and he got decent paychecks. It was an internship, basically. So, it was technically school, but it felt more like a job.

He had applied to work in the lab of Dr. Michael Newman at the University of Kansas because he did research on colon cancer. So, Brandon had arrived at the beginning of summer bright eyed and eager to cure cancer for good. How wrong he had been.

It turned out that scientific research was tedious, repetitive, frustrating, and unrewarding. The lab grew cancer cells in little flasks, treated them with various potential drugs, and looked at the effects the drugs had on the cells. It sounded simple enough, but there had to be variations in the concentration of the drug, the stage of growth of the cells, the conditions in which they were grown, the buffers and additives that were combined with the drug, and so on and so on.

Furthermore, he had spent most of the summer not even doing any of this himself, instead reading scientific journal articles or watching other members of the lab do these procedures. He had been assigned to be the lackey of a 6th year PhD student named Asha Mukherjee, so he spent the vast majority of his time with her. She was a short, round-faced young woman from India. She was only a handful of years older than Brandon and, at first, he had found her quite attractive due to her cute face, her full lips and a bust that not even her very conservative blouses could hide. These feelings didn't last long though—her stern attitude and intimidating intellect made him put aside any sexual thoughts he might have had about her.

With him, she was pretty much all business. Despite spending 40 hour weeks with her for the past two months, he knew very little about her personal life.

All of this brought him to his current situation. He and Asha were doing a timepoint experiment. Cells had been treated in the morning (at 8:00 a.m. precisely) and samples had to be taken every hour, on the hour, for a full 24 hours. Thus, the all-nighter.

The day had gone by easily enough, so far. He had assisted Asha with the 10 timepoints they had done so far. Only 14 more to go...

Brandon rested the half-full can on the table outside of the lab (because food or drink was not allowed inside) and walked back in. The main lab area had shelves, sinks or large pieces of equipment along all its walls, but the primary work spaces consisted of several long benches that ran most of the length of the room, parallel to one another. There were desk areas with office chairs at the ends of the benches that abutted the wall, but most of the bench was at a greater height, meant to be stood at. Asha had a desk at the bench along the far wall. Brandon wasn't important enough to have his own desk, so he sat somewhat awkwardly at a stool at her bench area.

The lab was finally starting to clear out for the evening. This was one of the many things that had shocked Brandon about research—the grad student work ethic. He was able to work about 9-5, on most days, but the grad students were almost always in the lab before him and almost always left after him. They even worked on weekends. So, this evening was actually the first time he would be the last one to leave. Well, him and Asha.

As it approached 7:00 p.m., they made their way to the side room of the lab that housed the tissue culture hoods and incubators. Brandon did his, now routine, part in things as they harvested the cells for later analysis. The whole procedure took about 30 minutes. When they returned to the main lab area, they were the only ones left.

"Well, looks like it's down to just us two," Asha remarked. That statement, in and of itself, was a little weird to Brandon—she rarely made innocuous comments like that.

As he assumed his seat on the stool at the bench, she beckoned for him to sit at the desk opposite her's instead.

"Tadashi won't mind," she explained with a wave of her hand. "Just don't mess with his computer."

So Brandon cautiously sat in the office chair of the other grad student, turning away from the computer and keyboard to face Asha.

"So, what's your story?" she asked him casually.

Brandon stifled a laugh.

"Wait, we've been working together all summer and NOW you want to make small talk?"

She shrugged as she leaned back in her chair.

"Well, maybe I've been saving it for a time like this. You gotta help me stay awake all night long." Her tone was uncharacteristically playful. As if she had become a completely different person, outside of the presence of all her co-workers. She toyed with her hair, long and black and done up in a single tight braid. "So, where are you from? What are your hobbies? What are gonna do when you graduate?"

Brandon chuckled at the absurdity of it all, but proceeded to go through his abbreviated biography. He was born and raised in Ohio and was in between his sophomore and junior year of college at a small private university in that state. He rowed crew and played League of Legends. He had always intended to go to med school after he got his bachelor's degree, but the MCAT was starting to scare him. Grad school had been his back up plan, but now he wasn't sure about that.

Before he knew it, the timer beeped for 7:55 p.m. and they prepared themselves for the 8:00 p.m. timepoint. When they finished and headed back to their seats, Brandon found the gumption to turn the tables.

"So, what about *you*?" he asked as they sat. "What's your life story?"

With a smile, Asha went through much of the same bullet points that Brandon had. Several of the details intrigued him. She was from Bangalore, a city that Brandon was only vaguely familiar with, although she politely explained that it was one of the biggest cities in the world—smaller than New York but bigger than Chicago.

She had done her undergrad work at Texas Tech, so she had been in the States for a whole decade at this point. That explained her accent, which was somehow smoother than that of other international students he had met from India. She was also much more adept with American slang and idioms.

She enjoyed bar trivia and reading romance novels: "the dirtier the better", had been her exact words, which she had said with a sly grin. This had made Brandon wonder if she was hitting on him. The possibility had been unthinkable earlier that day, but now he didn't know what to think.

She was on track to finish her PhD the coming academic year and planned to go back to India to do a post-doctoral fellowship there.

"I like the States well enough, but there's no place like home," she had explained wistfully. "Plus, my family has got a husband waiting for me, so it would be hard to skip out on that."

That last point was a bit of a shock to Brandon. So much for being hit on... He had several follow up questions related to that, but just then the timer beeped for them to get ready for their 9:00 p.m. timepoint.

They were all business as they went about their work but their conversation resumed as soon as they got back to the benches.

"So, you're engaged?" Brandon asked, trying to not sound as astounded as he was.

Asha chuckled amicably.

"Well, not exactly. My family is going to help me arrange to be married—they don't actually have a guy already picked out and waiting."

Brandon was dumbfounded. Arranged marriages seemed so... antiquated to him. The fact that such an attractive, educated, hard working young woman like Asha would willingly be a part of it blew his mind.

She must have sensed his confusion, because she went on to explain it to him, in a tone only slightly less condescending than what she used when she had to explain what an "antigen" or a "cyclin" was.

"Arranged marriages are probably not like what you think they are. Nobody is forced into anything. Your family and the matchmaker figure everything out. You get to meet the match at least a few times before deciding. Really, the only difference between it and online dating is that people do the matching instead of algorithms. And the timeline to marriage is faster."

"But aren't you worried that you'll be stuck with some creep for the rest of your life?" Brandon realized that this line of questioning might be construed as offensive, but she seemed to be giving him a free pass on his ignorance, so he went ahead anyway.

"I trust my family to do a good job of vetting the matches. I mean, that's what dating's basically all about, right? Vetting partners?"

At this point in the conversation, Brandon realized how out of his depth he was. He had dated a few women in his life, but had never been in a relationship even close to ending in marriage. She continued as he hesitated.

"Besides, who wants to do all that work anyway? I'm already almost 30. Just get to the marriage. Let someone else make sure you're compatible. The love will come eventually."

Brandon truly had no retort. Dating was a lot of fun—getting to know someone, learning to appreciate (or, despise) all their little idiosyncrasies. Going forward in a relationship with someone who hadn't already been selected based on a rigid list of criteria was... exciting. Even if it was rarely successful. But, to someone who felt like all this was a chore and just wanted to get to the comfortable stage of a committed relationship, he could see why an arranged marriage would have its appeal. He decided to not push the issue and simply hummed in consideration.

"So, what about you?" she asked. "Are you dating anyone?"

"Not right now," Brandon said with a shake of his head. "I mean, I've had girlfriends in the past, but, just, not one right now."

It came out much lamer than he had wanted it to and she chuckled at his awkwardness. She then gave him a long appraising look up and down before changing the subject.

"I'm gonna get a snack from the break room. I'll be back in time for the 10:00 p.m. timepoint."

Brandon nodded in assent as she rose and left the lab. He leered at her as she walked away—the thick fabric of her shin-length skirt and the black leggings beneath it couldn't hide the thick, round ass that came with her short, slightly stocky build.

He shook his head to himself as the door shut behind her. What was he even thinking? Sure, a few comments and looks might have been construed as flirtatious, but that couldn't be right. Right?

He tried to put the thought out of his mind. On his phone, he caught up on the chatter on his Discord servers. He went to the men's room and took a leak. He finished off his birthday cake energy drink—there was another unopened can beside it, for later. He took his last sip as Asha strode down the hall from the grad student break room. They entered the lab together, wordlessly, and the timer soon beeped for them to get ready for the 10:00 p.m. timepoint.

Again, they were all business in the tissue culture room.

Unsure of how to continue the conversation, Brandon buried his face in his phone when they returned, hunched over Tadashi's desk.

"I did say I expected you to help me stay up all night, right?" he heard Asha remark. He swiveled the chair around as he tried to formulate a snappy comeback. But what he saw shocked away any wit he may have had.

Asha sat in her desk chair facing him. Her maroon skirt was hiked up to her waist and her black leggings and white panties had been pulled down to her ankles. Her legs were spread wide and she casually rubbed her pussy.

Brandon was dumbstruck.

"If you're not into it, you're welcome to leave," she said, gesturing to the door with one hand as she continued to idly massage herself with the other. "I can do the timepoints without you, if I need to."

"I-I'm into it," Brandon finally managed to stammer out, not knowing exactly what "it" actually entailed.

"Well then, show me what you've got," Asha demanded.

Brandon nervously pulled his pants and underwear to his ankles and stood awkwardly before her. The situation was certainly enticing enough, but the unexpected nature of it all, combined with the decidedly unsexy environment of the lab prevented him from getting hard immediately. He stroked himself purposefully to try to bring about an erection.

Asha seemed to understand his problem.

"Relax," she said soothingly. "Sit down."

Brandon complied.

Asha spread open the lips of her shaved bare pussy invitingly. Its inner bright pink color contrasted sharply with the dark brown of the lips and the slightly lighter brown of her thighs and legs.

He could feel her gaze upon him as he stared.

"Maybe you need a little more?" she offered as she slowly unbuttoned her cardigan and then blouse, exposing a pair of smooth, caramel colored breasts every bit as massive as he had guessed they would be. She undid the front clasp of her simple white bra, exposing them fully. Despite their size, they sagged only a little. Her dark brown nipples were hard and she gave one a pinch as she hefted her breasts playfully.

The bags of microcentrifuge tubes behind her and the slight odor of beta-mercaptoethanol were now gone to Brandon as he stared hungrily and stroked his fully erect member.

"Not bad at all," she said appraisingly.

"I, uh, don't have any condoms with me," Brandon warned, hoping that she would be prepared, since she has started all this.

"That's okay," Asha replied, watching intently as he continued to stroke himself. "We won't be having intercourse anyway."

Brandon cringed slightly at the word "intercourse", so it took him a moment to process what she had just said.

"I'm a virgin," she explained, "and I intend to keep it that way. If that isn't enough for you..."

She gestured to the door.

"Oh, no, this is just fine," Brandon replied, perhaps a bit too enthusiastically.

"Good," she said. "Although, it does get a bit better."

At this, she stood. She picked up the flat pillow she used for extra cushioning on her office chair, tossed it at his feet and knelt before him. Brandon moved his hands to the armrests of the office chair as she began.

She got right into it, grasping his cock firmly, making long strokes that included a twist of her wrist. Her tongue rolled around the head, sending a pleasant shiver up his spine as she teased the frenulum. She took him into her mouth for a single stroke, drawing forth an involuntary moan of pleasure from Brandon. After this, she sat back on her heels, stroking slowly and staring up at him with a devious grin.

Brandon was unsure where things would go next, but his thoughts were soon interrupted by a sharp beeping.

They had 5 minutes until the 11:00 p.m. timepoint.

Still grinning mischievously, Asha stood, re-fastened her bra and re-buttoned her blouse and sweater. Brandon sat in disbelief, his pants still around his ankles and his saliva-moistened cock hanging in front of him.

How had 20 minutes gone by so quickly?

"You'd better hurry up and get ready," Asha chided him.

Brandon snapped back to reality and pulled his pants up. The two donned their lab coats and gloves in silence and took up their work in the tissue culture room as if nothing had happened.

When they had finished, Brandon practically raced back to the corner of the lab, his cock already starting to get hard at the thought of the blowjob to come. He sat and dropped his pants, stroking himself to a full erection as Asha set the timer. It was 11:29 p.m. They had 26 minutes until they had to prepare for the midnight timepoint. More than enough time.

When Asha turned her attention to him, she laughed as she picked up the pillow from the floor and returned it to her chair. She sat, instead of kneeling at his feet.

"Now it's my turn," she explained, pulling her shirt up and her leggings and panties down.

Brandon blinked in shocked confusion, but soon began to comprehend the situation. Asha spelled it out for him anyway.

"I told you that you had to keep me up all night long," she began, rubbing herself slowly. "Here's how I figure it. You got the 10:00-11:00 break. I'm having the 11 to midnight. You'll get midnight to 1:00. I get 1:00-2:00. You get 2:00-3:00. I get 3:00-4:00. You'll have to finish me with that one. If you do, then you can finally come at the 4:00-5:00 break. We can't risk any more than that because Samantha is a morning person and sometimes gets here as early as 5:30 a.m."

It was a lot to take in.

"Wait, so I don't get to finish for another five hours?" he exclaimed.

"That's the idea," she replied condescendingly. "Don't worry—I'll make sure you don't get too... stimulated, before it's your time."

Brandon furrowed his brow in concern. It was quite the setup.

"Hey, stop wasting time," she chided him. "Get down here and eat me out."

Brandon smiled at this. He was far from a novice at giving oral sex to women and fancied himself to be rather good at it. He dropped to his knees and shuffled toward her. Her leggings hung at her ankles, so she lifted her legs high so he could get in. She rested her ankles on his lower back as he drew closer.

He kissed the smooth brown skin of her inner thighs and gradually made his way toward her vagina. His tongue swirled around the folds of her lips, tasting the strong, unique flavor of female arousal. He experimentally licked around her clitoris, eliciting a soft moan and a hand that came down to firmly grasp his hair.

"One last thing," Asha sighed with pleasure. "I'm going to lose interest in all this once I come. So, if you want this to keep going, you've got to make me feel good, but not too good."

Brandon stopped mid-lick, his tongue poised for a broad, wet stroke across her clit.

"Don't worry," she said, patting his head assuringly. "I'll let you know if you're doing too much. Or," she said with a poke to his still motionless head, "not enough."

Brandon resumed his work, carefully avoiding her clit. He swirled his tongue around her inner lips. He firmly caressed her thighs with his hands. He took breaks to kiss the outer edges of her labia and inner thighs.

Her reactions to it all were hard to read. She continued to stroke fingers through his hair, which was reassuring, but she wasn't moaning audibly either. He had to assume he was doing a good enough job.

His jaw was starting to ache when the timer finally beeped for 11:55 p.m.

She patted his head again as she lifted her legs for him to crawl out. She took a few tissues from a box on her desk and cleaned herself up a bit before pulling up her panties and leggings.

Brandon stood, his erection pitching an incredibly conspicuous tent. Asha shot him another sly grin.

"That had better not affect your concentration in the tissue culture room," she threatened.

He tucked himself into the waistline of his pants and soldiered on. As always, they worked in silence as they processed the midnight timepoint. Brandon's erection quickly subsided as he focused on trypsinization and centrifugation.