Taking Flight

by Tabitha Rayne

  “Did you come up with anything?” The lab manager was trembling at the confrontation. Deborah had no idea why this woman had been put in the position of being in charge of people; even saying good morning made her crumble.

  “No.” Deborah bowed her head in submission and retreated to her work station. Just when she felt she’d been getting somewhere with her research on how the toxins worked, she’d been swiftly seconded to this lab, where the study was concentrated on semen. She spent her days staring at Petri dishes of the tiny creatures swimming for their lives, deformed and withered by the effects of the noxious gases. It was her job to try and find anything that would stimulate and arouse the feeble, wriggling things into action. The male sperm died too quickly for insemination.

  Deborah was frustrated at what she felt was a waste of her research and expertise. She should be at the forefront of theoretical exploration. She’d been close to something, she’d felt it in her bones, but there she was exposing these already sick little swimlings to more and more stimulants, poisons, or whatever else might cause a reaction. So far, nothing had worked.

  Dishes and dishes of potential lay in varying stages of decay on her worktop. She readjusted the mirror on the microscope to get the best light from the lab window. At least that was a bonus. Restrictions on energy use and tighter regulations meant going back to the antiquated equipment of a time when scientists used natural resources to facilitate their work. Gone were the days of fluorescent lit underground holes. Labs were now gloriously high ceilinged, with south-facing rooms lined with windows to let the natural light of day flood in. Not until the very last shadow crept in would a light be allowed to be switched on, or a candle lit.

  Deborah leaned over the eyepiece and took a look. Sluggish specimens lazily flopped around with no real direction. She’d excitedly spotted a few Y sperms in this batch, but they’d already stopped moving. New samples were brought in daily, and Deborah made sure to specify this particular donor’s came straight to her. The phone on her desk rang shrilly like an old bicycle bell, pulling her from her study. She picked the heavy black handset off its cradle beside her and cursed as the tangled cable caught on her notes, sending them scattering to the floor.

  “Yes?” she snapped impatiently, straining down to gather the papers.

  “Busy?” Her lover’s voice made her body soften and she sat up, leaning on her desk with her elbows.

  “Always.” She smiled the way she invariably did at the sound of him. “You shouldn’t be calling here. You know I’ll get in trouble.” But she was grinning as he kept her on the line.

  “Just look serious and nod every now and then,” he said, the familiar tone of lust inflecting his words. “Do you understand me?”

  “Yes.” Deborah nodded and assumed a pose that she imagined looked serious enough to warrant a phone call during study hours.

  “Now, doctor, tell me, how many people are in the room with you?”

  She looked at her colleagues, counting quickly. There were seven others, plus the lab manager. “Eight so far this morning,” she replied, trying to sound efficient, as if this was part of a report to a superior.

  “Good.” His voice was dripping with lust and the hair on her neck, close to her ear, bristled with the same naughty anticipation it always did whenever she heard that tone. “Now here’s what I want you to do.”

  She looked anxiously about, knowing that he was about to give her a command to carry out in secret.

  “Pull that sexy lab coat of yours up over your bum so it hangs over the back of your stool.”

  She did. Her skirt was made of cheap, thin cotton, and her buttocks tensed at the slight chill of the wooden seat.

  “Have you done that for me?” he asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Good. Now hook your toes under the first rung and spread your knees wide.”

  She glanced around the room, her breath quickening, and did as she was bid. Her skirt strained a little on her thighs before riding up to allow her legs to open. Just that action alone caused the heady flight of arousal to mount in her abdomen.

  “Now hitch your skirt up over your ass too.”

  Without looking down, she dropped a hand and tugged her skirt up past her stocking tops, shivering again when the backs of her thighs were bared to the cool wood.

  “Done?” he asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Good.” His voice thickened with every breath and a flurry of heat built in her crotch as she thought of him languidly sliding his palm over his trousered package. “Are your legs spread as wide as you can get them?”

  She shuffled back, tipping her pelvis and opening her hips until it almost hurt. “Yes,” she whispered, and the manager looked at her quizzically from the front of the lab.

  “Be more assertive next time,” Marcus said, as if sensing the surveillance. “Now tilt forward and press those tight lips into your seat.”

  It was an awkward movement with her toes still tucked in and she had to shuffle some more. She looked briefly into the eyepiece of her microscope to disguise the motion, which only helped to apply more pressure to the area. She could hear her own breath magnified in the earpiece.

  “I can hear that you’ve done that. No need to confirm.”

  She remained silent and peered up to see if anyone sensed a disturbance. All was normal. Her sex was reacting nicely to being thrust open and pressed into the chair and the heat was beginning to turn to dampness in the crotch of her panties.

  “Is your pussy getting wet now?”

  “Yes,” she said, almost stammering at the rawness of the question.

  “Good,” he said again, obviously turned on himself as the tell-tale nasal breathing deepened, and she imagined him unzipping himself. “Reach down and hook your middle finger into your knickers and pull them to the side.”

  She did as she was bid and gasped as her fingers brushed her lips, which were slick with want and contracted as cool air flowed over them.

  “Open yourself up and slide your sexy little middle finger right on up inside for me. Say yes when you’ve done it.”

  Deborah eased her hand into her pants and pushed her digit easily into her slippery entrance. She cupped her mound and began to rock forward, pressing her now aching clit into the fleshy heel of her palm.

  “Yes.”

  “I think you need more, don’t you?” he asked, and she could tell his cock was in his own fist now by the wobble in his voice. “Put your index finger in too and hold the phone in the crook of your neck.”

  Tilting her head, she trapped the phone, freeing her other hand.

  “Are you ready?”

  “Yes,” she said, expecting him to command her to rub the peaking nub of flesh that was so desperately nestled between her pussy lips.

  “Take the largest test tube on your desk.”

  Deborah blushed and hesitated for a moment, then reached out and chose one of the empty, sterile vials, quickly taking it under the desk.

  “Now, shuffle forward to the edge of your seat and fuck yourself with it.”

  She had to look down to hide her hot, red cheeks behind her hair.

  “Pretend it’s me under there, using my fingers and flicking your clit with my tongue.”

  Deborah slid forward, withdrew her fingers, and held her soaking folds open for the tip of the vial. It was cold, and she winced and clenched shut at the impending invasion. Slowly, she eased the instrument into her tight entrance, enjoying the way it stretched her open right there in the lab, while her colleagues remained oblivious. She shifted her weight a little more and slid it halfway then pulled it out slowly, feeling the drag on her puckering flesh as it became coated with her juices.

  “Is it in yet? Push it all the way in for me, all the way. Tell me when you’re done.”

  Deborah pushed one finger into the open end of the test tube to get a better grip and began to pulse the glass dick into her, deeper and deeper, until it had almost disappeared inside. “Yes,” she whisper
ed, and her nipples flooded with arousal as she caught sight of them stiffening beneath her blouse where her lab coat had fallen open. Her gaze drifted down to her wide-open pussy, rammed full and pulsing with the need to come.

  “Now rub your clit, lick it with the tip of your fingers like a tongue. Lap it, taste it, eat it.”

  His description made her suck her cheeks in between her teeth, mouth watering as she did as she was told and rolled the nub of pleasure around with her fingertips. Her chest was actually heaving now, and flushed with desire. She bit hard on her flesh as she pumped the vial in and out like a cock and rubbed her clit while rocking back and forth on her high chair. Her pleasure welled and began to peak just as he groaned in climax into her ear. Juices gushed out in a hot mass as one last thrust and tweak took her over the edge into her own orgasm. She closed her legs around her hands, holding the test tube in place as she quivered silently, adding pressure to keep the tiny after-surges pulsing. Finally letting out her breath, she gave one last, “Yes,” into the phone and smiled as he quietly hung up.

  She withdrew the test tube and wiped it on a tissue before placing it back in the rack, making a mental note of which one not to use for her study. After sorting out the rest of her clothing, she leaned in and cast a lazy gaze into her microscope.

  What she saw was astonishing. The remaining Ys, which she’d assumed would have been long since dead, were stirring in their fluid. Not just stirring, but appearing as if they were about to make a serious attempt at swimming. Deborah wiped her forehead and a tiny droplet of perspiration dripped softly into the dish. As she watched in awe, the condemned little sperms’ flagella wriggled in unison, then stopped.

  Doors were flung open in her mind and thoughts flooded through. Why? Why the sudden flurry of life under her microscope? She must be oozing post-orgasmic oxytocin, and her pulse quickened as she began to realize what might have happened. Without hesitating, she lifted the glass test tube from the rack, carefully wiped some of the remaining residue with a swab, and dipped it into the Petri dish.

  Closing one eye, she leaned in once more to the microscope and gasped.

  Chapter 3

  “You mean to tell me,” Marcus said, gazing at his own fingers as they trailed languidly up Deborah’s shins where they were slung over his lap, “that female arousal is the key to saving the world?” He smiled up at her, obviously thinking she was joking.

  “What I’m saying is the pheromones I must have produced after our phone call—” She blushed at the memory. “—stimulated the semen in some way.”

  His look was of clear disbelief as he started to massage her calves. “But Debs, if that’s true, how the hell did the toxins kill off so many in the first place? If a good orgasm’s all it took... Surely there were more satisfied women out there?”

  Deborah understood what he was getting at. And indeed, if it was true that sexual pheromones could prevent the toxins from damaging the male sperm then Marcus would have been the last to have been affected.

  “I don’t know. It’s only a theory, maybe just an anomaly.”

  “Have you told anyone yet?”

  “No.” She had been about to call the lab manager over but something had told her not to. “No, I didn’t.”

  “Good,” said Marcus, looking grim. “I don’t think you should.”

  “Why not?”

  “Just... I think maybe it’s better to be sure about these things before you broadcast it and get shot down.”

  “Oh,” said Deborah as his intentions began to dawn on her. She caught his gaze, which confirmed what she was suspecting. “You mean we really ought to do some more research before we reveal our findings?”

  Withdrawing her leg from his lap, she started to crawl toward him, seductively licking her lips, and reached out to his shirt buttons. For the briefest second something passed over his face that she couldn’t quite read. The look of lust returned quickly and a hand slid into her blouse, freeing her breast from her fine, lacy bra. At once, her nipple stiffened under his touch. With the other, he lifted her chin and gazed deep into her eyes.

  “I love you,” he said with an intensity that, if she hadn’t known him so well, would have scared her.

  “I know.” She brushed the feeling of uneasiness away and leaned in to those full lips. “I love you too.”

  He met her kiss and rose powerfully, lifting her with one arm while pushing himself to a standing position with the other. Her eyes were closed and her mouth clamped to his, feasting on his juicy flesh as he carried her through to the bedroom. There was an urgency to his movements and he flung her onto the bed roughly, tearing off his shirt while staring at her determinedly. It turned her on beyond description to be wanted this badly. She braced herself for his weight as he almost threw himself on top of her, devouring and licking at her neck and collarbone, just at the dip that drove her wild. Her nails dug into his flesh and she helped tear his jeans off, hooking a toe in on the way down to kick them away.

  He loomed above her, a huge figure of muscle and lust, and she melted beneath him, opening herself up for him. Wrapping her legs around his hips, she pressed his buttocks with her heels, beckoning him into her. He resisted and shifted his weight onto one elbow, tracing her face with his fingertips, brushing strands of hair from her lips. Following his caress with her mouth, she tried to catch his finger with her tongue, draw it into her, suckle on it, but he only let her have a tiny taste before dipping it into his own mouth, coating his long, thick digits with saliva. She quivered as he seductively slid them out, letting his lips smack shut as he snaked his fingers down to her panties.

  He eased the fabric aside and worked along the entire length of her vulva like a bow, playing her like a perfectly tuned violin. She released her breath as slowly as she could as he toyed with her lips and bud, dipping down to her rear and pressing gently, before sliding back up and parting her. She loved the way he held her like this, just open long enough for her to tense a little, before plunging his fingers deep into her, wriggling them and forcing them in with the weight of his whole body. He cupped her mound while he thrust in and out and kissed her again, raw and lustful. He ate her up and she responded, straining her chin up to meet his feasting.

  “I need to taste all of you,” he said, his voice thick with lust and want, and he deftly whipped off her sodden knickers and threw them aside.

  Her pussy was convulsing under his expert touch and she was aware of her juices flowing out over his hands. She knew he loved it; he loved how hot and wet she got. He pulled his fingers free and moved his way down her torso, kissing and nibbling all the way to the rise of her mound where he paused, inhaling the scent of her private curls. Smiling to herself, she raked her fingers in his hair and wrapped her legs over his back, tipping her pelvis up, urging him downward. He obeyed at once and flattened his strong tongue against her pussy lips, opening them tenderly, feeling his way onto the tip of her bud then down underneath it, gently undulating the sensitive nub while Deborah tried her best not to wriggle away. Sometimes the pleasure was so intense that she could hardly bear it and her body would tense.

  It was at that moment, he would tell her, that she should relax the most, breathe, and be rewarded with the sublime intensity that most people would never be able to handle. So she tried. She stilled her tightening muscles and tipped her hips rhythmically to meet his tonguing. His licking was gathering momentum and strength and he slipped his fingers back inside her, hooking them in at that special spot. She closed around them, she couldn’t help it, and he scissored his digits to open her up again. Pressure mounted in her clit and shot down into the very depths of her sex where his fingers worked. Her grip tightened in his hair and he groaned at her arousal. Just as she felt the peak and well of her orgasm, he pulled away abruptly and lurched back up to her face. She smiled at him, knowing they needed to own each other with their sexes now.

  Grabbing her wrists, he stretched her body as he pulled her arms up over her head. He hovered above her, admir
ing her breasts through her disheveled clothing, and she admired him back, lifting her head to look down at his turgid cock between her thighs. She could see it glistening with that delightful pearl of fluid that signified his ferocious want, and she braced herself.

  He paused for one more second, then took aim and sank his hard shaft all the way into her, stretching and sliding until she had to shift to accommodate his full length. Releasing her wrists, he shuffled his forearms under her legs and slid them up his biceps onto his chest, bending her double. Slowly, he pushed himself in even deeper.

  Crying out in beautiful agony, she took all of him, savoring the feeling of being utterly impaled by her lover. He stayed there for a moment and gazed at her, urging her with the look she knew, telling her to relax. She breathed in deeply, then exhaled the tension in her vagina. He slid out slowly, making her feel like she was being pulled with him, just a little, then he gently sank back in. He did this a few more times then began to pulse in and out, a little more vigorously, staring into Deborah’s eyes all the while.

  Her legs lost their tension and flopped against his shoulders and chest as he bounced in and out of her, lengthening his withdrawal with every thrust. Her pussy felt raw with being fucked so hard and deep, and her juices were flowing, turning her on, as he rammed against her g-spot until her climax began to build again. She reached down between the back of her thigh and his torso and felt her way from behind into the space where her bud strained from between her pussy lips. He must have felt what was going on and grabbed her probing fingers, squeezing them together and using them as a tool to rub her clit. It was so hot to have her own hand used like a sex toy in that way, and she gave over control of herself, watching him watch their hands on her pussy and his cock stretching and fucking her.