Message-ID: <2626eli$9708041512@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Archived-At: From: heminway@epix.net (Hawk Richards) Subject: {ASS} New Story: Through The Grape Vine by Hawk Richards Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d Path: qz!not-for-mail Organization: The Committee To Thwart Spam Approved: X-Moderator-Contact: Eli the Bearded X-Story-Submission: X-Original-Message-ID: <33e45ab9.12732307@newsserver.epix.net> Standard Disclaimer: Do not read if you are under 18 years of age. This material is copyright to Hawk Richards and cannot be reposted without permission. You cannot sell this story. Contact Information: Hawk Richards Heminway@epix.net *****************************************************8 "Through The Coconut Telegraph and The Grape Vine" By Hawk Richards Heminway@epix.net It was early morning in the Faculty lounge; in fact, it was way to early for some. Dr. Maxwell Jones, otherwise known as Mac to his friends and colleagues, sat enjoying his coffee in relative silence. It was his first day as a Professor at the Institute for Science and Technology and already he was bored to tears. He stared idly into the newspaper propping his feet on the coffee table, while lounging his tall frame on the hard couch. As the lounge area started to get more and more crowded, he decided to head down to his office before his first lecture. After a moment's hesitation, he dismissed the thought of introducing himself and quickly left with a gradual "Good Day" and a wink to the ladies. Peering over her mug Dianne asked, "You know him, Janine. What's the scoop?" "Who? Dr. Jones? Yes, we've met before," answered Janine. In fact, they had more than just met. The two of them had become very intimate very fast at Berkeley several years ago. It took her a couple of months to get over their caustic break up, but she still had the urge to kiss him whenever she saw his ruggedly handsome features. He was the essence of danger, the definition of male chauvinism personified; yet, she couldn't help loving him. "He does not look like a scientist, especially the most highly qualified member of the scientific community," blurted Dr. Ronald Peterson. Of course, anybody who didn't wear tweed, a pocket protector, and spend enormous amounts of time bragging about their success's meant they probably were not, in Ron's book at least, a "Scientific Mind." And, it especially meant they didn't deserve the praise of all academia like Dr. Jones had already won the year before with his brilliantly conceived breakthrough thesis on the relatively new frontier of Nano-technology. "Actually, his work has brought new light to the field of Science." "From what I hear, he is arrogant, self assured, acts like a teenager, and has no respect for authority," spat Ron in disgust. Tiny droplets of spittle flew out of Ron's mouth as he lectured on about how the necessity for authority and correct behavior was the most important thing for any Instructor to have because without it there would be turmoil. "You see we are considered role models!" he said as his hands flew up in a revelation. "I like this Dr. Jones already," whispered Dianne diverting her thoughts back and forth from Dr. Jones to her coffee mug. She had thought she had caught his eyes watching her before he had left and started to fidget with the top button of her blouse. She felt that particular "something" just seeping out from his open-eyed stare. Perhaps, it was her imagination, but she could feel his animal magnetism drawing her attention away from the group discussion. "Further more, if it were not for his supposed high intelligence and his somewhat ground breaking work he would be a associate professor at a small college in the middle of nowhere," droned Ron as he finally sputtered out of steam. "Tell us more about him, Janine. This is getting interesting." "Well, he is a womanizer. He drinks too much...and all in all he is a bad influence." "Didn't he win that triathlon last year?" asked Lydia, whom up to this moment sat idly by listening to the gossip as if it was the latest rerun of Seinfeld. "He is a hard drinker, yet he is a health nut! Make up your minds," demanded Dianne in mock anger. "Well, he is a hypocrite in a certain sense. He has been married four times. Each wife was high spirited, intelligent, and unforgiving. His first wife was a lawyer. She wanted to change him. His second wife was a doctor. She wanted to settle down and have a family. His third wife caught him cheating on her with her own sister." "His wife's sister? How tacky," blurted Ron "And his fourth wife?" asked Dianne. "Back on the prowl again, Di? Thought you were going with that beefcake soldier boy? What's his name Biff?" stabbed Ron in his searing trademark highbrow sarcasm. "No, his name was Bill," she replied licking her lips, thus causing Ronald to head off to his office after he announced: "Well, I must go prepare for my 10:00." She was sure old Ronny had a severe crush on her and she did everything she possibly could to frustrate the poor bugger. Once, out of sheer boredom she let the old man watch her through the partially open door to her office from the hallway as she changed into her jogging outfit. She found that changing in her office saved her some extra time before she did her daily exercise routine. Moreover, it drove Ronald mad with desire every time he watched her from his window as she bounced her way down the front steps. She still smirked every time she thought about how he reacted as she burst through the door and bumped into him. She had made sure her hand had clumsily boinked him in the groin. She had often wondered just how exactly well built he was in the sex department. She never planned on finding out by sleeping with him because she couldn't even stand being next to him let alone under him. "Is he still married?" Dianne said trying a different approach. "His fourth wife died of natural causes. I think it was Cancer." "Oh. That's sad. Do you know if he has a girlfriend yet?" "For crying out loud Dianne. You haven't even met him yet." "What?" she asked indignantly. "What's wrong with wanting to get to know your colleagues?" Lydia rolled her eyes as she chuckled at her colleague's behavior. Lydia with her innocent coy eyes and lack of makeup portrayed a natural beauty. Her deep brown orbs reflected sympathy with their warm, enticing stare. She was an optimist and felt everybody needed a fair chance to prove themselves. She hadn't officially met Dr. Jones, but she followed his work very closely. In her heart and mind she knew that Dr. Jones was probably more human and more real than the participants in current childish discussion. She sat listening to them because it was as if it all was just another form of entertainment without any merit whatsoever, entertaining none the less. She herself had received her job because of her father, General Frank Trent. The government funded research that University relied on created a need to keep the relationship congenial between the two institutions. Her whole life had been planned by her parents. Her only time of freedom was in college, where she found her sexuality, yet do to her strict upbringing she denied herself happiness with her only true love Kate McCormick. They were buddies and had met one fateful night in the TV lounge at their dormitory on a Saturday night. They kept each other company while the rest of the campus partied until dawn. "And why are you laughing, Lydia? You should know as well as I do that good men are hard to find," stated Dianne, whom had always thought of Lydia as an old maid type. By the time she would get around to try to get a man, her quaint good looks would be gone and she would be left high and dry. "Or low and wet," Dianne thought to herself as she noticed her own growing discomfort between her legs. She was horny as always. "Well, as much as I would love to sit around and talk about my sex life, I must go to my class," Lydia remarked absconding from the troubling chatter, which by some strange twist of fate she had been forced into. "She really must get out more often," said Dianne nonchalantly not noticing the look of distaste on Janine's face at her uncalled for jibing of her best friend and colleague. Janine quickly excused herself from any further conversation and walked back to her office. Once inside, she sat down heavily in her chair. She couldn't keep her mind off Mac because her mind kept recalling the long sexy nights she had shared with him in her bed. It was the little things, which she thought she had always abhorred, that enticed her and drove her to love him further. The gentle way he would kid about her sexual appetite, the crude and often abusive language he used while making love and the overall sexy way he looked at her with his large inquisitive eyes all made her melt like butter in her seat. Soon the unbearable heat between her thighs became a raging fire and she thirst for something to quench her uncontrollable lust. "A finger or two would do," she thought as she closed her eyes. She had plenty of time, until her first lecture. Slowly, as if it moved on its own, her right hand crept down to pull up her dress. One hand found a breast, while the other dug its way into her soaking wet panties. A jolt of pure pleasure shot through her as her hand came in contact with her slick, feminine perfumed sex. Through her lust filled daze, she heard a knock at the door. Straightening herself up and rushing to the door with a professional face, she opened the door after unlocking it. There stood the object of her fancies grinning like a Cheshire cat in heat. "Good morning, Doctor," he said stepping into the small tasteful office of Dr. Janine Sloane. Not sure of what to say, feel or do, Janine extended her hand out to greet him. In a pseudo-like gesture of sincerity, actually more of a mock romanticism, Mac took her hand and kissed it like he would a princess. She noticed his eyes bulge slightly with erotic intent. She thought at first he had caught her in the act of solitary pleasure, but a second later it was obvious he knew it, and his eyes projected that he had. The evidence was right there under his nose and he could feel the slight dampness and taste the remnants of her womanly secretions on her hand. "Did I come at a bad time?" "No, I was just getting some work done," she replied taking her hand away. "I bet." "What do you want Mac?" she asked. "I just wanted to say hello, that's all," he said stepping closer. She could feel his magnetic personality pull her towards him. The deep lines of character around his sinister smile made her feel woozy. "Well, hello. I am really sorry, but I must be going," she said picking up her books to leave and get as far away from him as possible. "We will catch up later, perhaps?" "Maybe." She walked briskly to her classroom thinking about his stare of sexual innuendo. He had degraded her once again with just the look in his eyes. The knowledge that he knew she had been touching herself made her want to go and hide forever, but it also made her feel extremely randy. -- __ Hawk Richards heminway@epix.net The Hawk Richards Storyboard http://members.aol.com/hawkrds/index.html -- +--------------' Story submission `-+-' Moderator contact `------------+ | story-submit@qz.little-neck.ny.us | story-admin@qz.little-neck.ny.us | | Archive site +--------------------+------------------+ Newsgroup FAQ | \ .../assm/faq.html> /