Read Online The Lab Assistant by Jaz Monday - Free Book Online
Authors: Jaz Monday
Tags: Erótica
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possessive? Jealous? Of what? Why was I so affected by her failing to answer the phone? I felt ridiculous.
I typed out a quick e-mail to Dr. Shey Duncan, the Dean of the College of Arts and Sciences. I described Julie's conundrum and her decision to withdraw from our research and from school. I impressed on him the importance of our research, and I set up Sonia as the perfect replacement, at least for the short term. I hit the send button and leaned back in the chair to think. This was all incredibly bad, but incredibly good, too. And it was all happening so fast.
Am I doing the right thing?
I had to see Sonia.
But first, I had to get this signed off by my department head. I got up from my seat and walked down the hall to her office. I barely noticed the students I'd been so enthralled by earlier. I was on a mission.
The meeting with my department head had gone exactly as I'd hoped. She was understanding, compassionate, and conveniently inclined to bend the rules more than just a bit to clear the hiring of an undergraduate--Sonia--as my assistant. We'd spent several hours discussing options and strategies, placing a call to Dr. Duncan, and getting the contractual paperwork drafted and approved by University counsel. Everything was set. I vibrated with anticipation.
It was a quarter to nine, and the sun was just disappearing under the horizon as I piloted the Beemer through campus. It had been a long day, and I was finally heading home. The more I drove, though--the more students I saw milling around, walking back from class, back to their dorms, over to one of the many clubs around and just off campus--the more I thought of Sonia. And the more I thought of Sonia, the more desperately lonely I felt. This vicious cycle caused my mood to drop quickly.
I needed to see her. I needed to smell her hair, her skin, her body. I needed to look into her eyes again, to stroke my fingers through her hair. I needed to feel her heartbeat against mine. My cock twitched in my pants as I thought about this. I needed to feel the way the walls of her vagina contracted and massaged against the shaft of my cock as her orgasm washed over her.
As I eased the BMW to a stop at the traffic light marking the southern edge of campus, and waited to turn onto the main drag back to my house, I picked up my cell phone and dialed. It connected and rang, and rang. And rang. I sighed. Sonia's voicemail picked up and I could almost see her sweet, metal tongue stud tapping the roof of her mouth as she spoke. Her sweet voice soothed me, but it was just a recording, not really her, and that made me feel worse. I didn't want to seem desperate, which was fairly ironic given the raw desperation I was feeling inside, so I elected not to leave a message. When the light turned green I sped off, dropping the cell phone into the passenger seat.
I couldn't go home. I knew I'd drive myself crazy, and probably make a fool of myself in Sonia's eyes by calling her over and over throughout the night. No, I had to get a grip--had to think about tomorrow. Twenty-four hours. Twenty-four short hours and we'd be together, my tongue firmly pressed into the beautiful sweet musk of her asshole, our bodies and souls collective, united.
"I can do that," I said to myself. I can do that.
I eased the car down Fowler Avenue, heading toward my house, but decided that I would stop for dinner someplace on the way. I was hungry--a little anyway--but more than that, dinner would absorb some time I greatly needed to rid myself of. And it would provide a welcome distraction. Maybe I could even get some work done while I was there.
There was a small mom and pop diner only about a mile up the road, across from the shopping mall. I'd been there many times, alone and with students and colleagues, and suddenly I found myself with a taste for it. This is good , I decided. Twenty-four hours to go, no problem. And a patty melt and some grading would ease me through a couple of those hours.
It
I typed out a quick e-mail to Dr. Shey Duncan, the Dean of the College of Arts and Sciences. I described Julie's conundrum and her decision to withdraw from our research and from school. I impressed on him the importance of our research, and I set up Sonia as the perfect replacement, at least for the short term. I hit the send button and leaned back in the chair to think. This was all incredibly bad, but incredibly good, too. And it was all happening so fast.
Am I doing the right thing?
I had to see Sonia.
But first, I had to get this signed off by my department head. I got up from my seat and walked down the hall to her office. I barely noticed the students I'd been so enthralled by earlier. I was on a mission.
The meeting with my department head had gone exactly as I'd hoped. She was understanding, compassionate, and conveniently inclined to bend the rules more than just a bit to clear the hiring of an undergraduate--Sonia--as my assistant. We'd spent several hours discussing options and strategies, placing a call to Dr. Duncan, and getting the contractual paperwork drafted and approved by University counsel. Everything was set. I vibrated with anticipation.
It was a quarter to nine, and the sun was just disappearing under the horizon as I piloted the Beemer through campus. It had been a long day, and I was finally heading home. The more I drove, though--the more students I saw milling around, walking back from class, back to their dorms, over to one of the many clubs around and just off campus--the more I thought of Sonia. And the more I thought of Sonia, the more desperately lonely I felt. This vicious cycle caused my mood to drop quickly.
I needed to see her. I needed to smell her hair, her skin, her body. I needed to look into her eyes again, to stroke my fingers through her hair. I needed to feel her heartbeat against mine. My cock twitched in my pants as I thought about this. I needed to feel the way the walls of her vagina contracted and massaged against the shaft of my cock as her orgasm washed over her.
As I eased the BMW to a stop at the traffic light marking the southern edge of campus, and waited to turn onto the main drag back to my house, I picked up my cell phone and dialed. It connected and rang, and rang. And rang. I sighed. Sonia's voicemail picked up and I could almost see her sweet, metal tongue stud tapping the roof of her mouth as she spoke. Her sweet voice soothed me, but it was just a recording, not really her, and that made me feel worse. I didn't want to seem desperate, which was fairly ironic given the raw desperation I was feeling inside, so I elected not to leave a message. When the light turned green I sped off, dropping the cell phone into the passenger seat.
I couldn't go home. I knew I'd drive myself crazy, and probably make a fool of myself in Sonia's eyes by calling her over and over throughout the night. No, I had to get a grip--had to think about tomorrow. Twenty-four hours. Twenty-four short hours and we'd be together, my tongue firmly pressed into the beautiful sweet musk of her asshole, our bodies and souls collective, united.
"I can do that," I said to myself. I can do that.
I eased the car down Fowler Avenue, heading toward my house, but decided that I would stop for dinner someplace on the way. I was hungry--a little anyway--but more than that, dinner would absorb some time I greatly needed to rid myself of. And it would provide a welcome distraction. Maybe I could even get some work done while I was there.
There was a small mom and pop diner only about a mile up the road, across from the shopping mall. I'd been there many times, alone and with students and colleagues, and suddenly I found myself with a taste for it. This is good , I decided. Twenty-four hours to go, no problem. And a patty melt and some grading would ease me through a couple of those hours.
It
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