Working/hottime
                                 Holly Lynn Johnson
                               Hot Time in a Cold Room
                                                  
               "Damn, it's cold in here!" I muttered to myself as I seated myself at 
                the lab bench. Cold indeed, at only four degrees Celsius, barely a 
             frosty breath away from freezing temperature. Cold enough to keep proteins
             and nucleic acids from denaturing, cold enough to keep antibodies in their
                                           active form. 
                                                  
              And cold enough to make me fervently wish for something to keep me warm.
                                                  
              It was a Saturday, and almost midnight at that, and it was just as much
            my stagnating social life which brought me here as it was the necessity of 
              processing my latest experiment. Ever since my breakup with Brian, home
             had seemed a lonely place, and I had taken to anesthetizing myself in the
            routine of research. Appropriate then, I thought, that I should find myself
                    sequestered in the tiny cold room...cold, alone, and lonely.
                                                  
              And so I sighed a cloud of resignation and began to arrange my pipets, 
              bulbs, and vials to my liking. Before long I became immersed in my work,
             my mind and body smoothly coordinated in the mental and physical exercise
               of processing results. I had just finished the first series of washes
              when I was startled by the loud snap-crack of the door's seal and, with
                                 a rush of warm air, Paul entered.
                                                  
            I was never so confused in my entire life. A thousand questions, reminders,
             and reprimands competed inside my mind for priority. What's he doing here
             at THIS hour? I can't believe my luck!! Don't act like you're too pleased
             to see him! Oh, Christ, he looks fantastic! Be cool, don't scare him off!
                                                  
                             Is this the chance I've been waiting for?
                                                  
            "Hi Paul! Working late?" I managed to emit. Well, at least my surprise was 
           genuine, and maybe the flush on my cheeks could be attributed to the cold. He 
            couldn't have known (could he have?) how intensely I was attracted to him. 
           The sight of him, even his mere presence affected me in a most distractingly 
             physical and emotional way. It was like the girlish crushes I thought I'd 
               left behind in high school, only with a more adult aspect of blatant 
                                 sexuality. I wanted him -- badly.
                                                  
            He smiled (God, what a fantastic smile!) and greeted me warmly: "Hey there,
              Holly!" And the way his mouth formed the sound of my name, the pleasure 
             I imagined I heard behind his voice at seeing me, they seemed to me to be
              actual physical vectors oriented towards my sex, and I immediately felt
                            a familiar urgency begin to build inside me.
                                                  
            Paul closed the heavy cold room door behind himself, seated himself at the 
              lab bench adjacent to mine and began to aliquot portions of enzyme into 
             test tubes, while I, with a great deal of difficulty, returned to my own 
            project. We chatted companionably all the while, lightly poking fun at each 
            other's dedication to science. I had forgotten the cold and, as we talked, 
            I also managed to forget some of the anxiety I was accustomed to feeling in 
                                          Paul's presence.
                                                  
              Instead...several times, as we reached for the same something-or-other, 
             our hands brushed, not to mention bumping elbows in the cramped space, and
              the physical contact was having a profound effect on me. It soon became
             so distracting that I lay my pipet gently down and did something I thought
                                   I'd never have the guts to do:
                                                  
                         "Paul, can I tell you something rather personal?"
                                                  
             He looked a trifle suspicious, but answered, "Sure, Holly, what's on your 
                                               mind?"
                                                  
              I clutched the frigid edge of the lab bench. "Well, it's just that...you
             see, I simply..." I was floundering. "Shit. Well, I guess there's just no 
                really elegant way to tell you how attracted I am to you, is there?"
                                                  
                I just caught his surprised blink before I had to look away, trying
             desperately to control the embarrassment which washed redly over my face.
                I fingered the chilled glass of a pipet and remained silent while he
              dealt with my confession. An eternity seemed to pass before I heard him
                             reply, "Holly...I don't know what to say."
                                                  
             But I knew what he had to say: those words of contrite refusal which would
               end my childish fantasies once and for all. And to my surprise, I felt
                 relief flooding through me at finally having faced the ghost of my
              attraction for him. The knowledge gave me the strength to meet his gaze
               again, and say the words which would make things less awkward for both
                                              of us. 
                                                  
               "Paul, you don't have to say anything. I don't expect you to feel the
               same way or anything...I only thought that for once, I could be adult
                enough to be honest about it, and that you could be adult enough to 
                                        handle it maturely."
                                                  
              Now he looked at me quizzically, as if puzzled by something I had said. 
                Had I said the wrong thing? Does he now think I'm an idiot? He still
               didn't say anything, and I felt compelled to say something to fill the
                                        cold air between us.
                                                  
              "Anyway, I just wanted to let you know that I thought you were special.
                         And if nothing else, I'd like to be your friend."
                                                  
              There, nice recovery. And still he looked at me expectantly, but I was 
              empty of words. So I smiled gently to him and turned back to my work as 
              if the matter were now closed, allowing him to make a graceful exit if 
             he chose. As I expected, I heard his chair roll back as he rose to leave.
                                                  
             Instead, to my surprise, I felt his strong hand on my shoulder, and before
             I knew it he had pivoted my chair around and I was gazing into his earnest
                                            blue eyes. 
                                                  
                                 "Holly...you've got it all wrong."
                                                  
                                            I HAVE?????
                                                  
            And then he was taking my face with exquisite gentleness between his hands,
              and his lips descended upon mine. His kiss was like nothing I could have
              expected. A part of me was faintly surprised that his lips were as full
              and as warm as they were in the chill of the cold room, and another part
                              of me lost all ability to think at all.
                                                  
               And so, without thinking, my arms stole around Paul's neck as his slid
              around me to caress my back. Without thinking, our kiss deepened, and I
                felt his tongue sweetly invade my eager mouth, stroking mine with an
               exploratory passion which turned my entire body to jelly, pliable and 
                             willing to be molded by his clever hands.
                                                  
              I almost wept when his mouth disengaged from mine, leaving my lips moist
                and hot to steam in the frigid air. Then he took my hands in his and
              pulled me up from the chair. I didn't understand what he was doing until
             he sat in the vacancy and gathered me possessively into his lap, his arms
            once again capturing me against him. This time, I was the aggressor, kissing
              him with mounting urgency. Our tongues jousted, our hands roamed, and I 
             could have sworn I heard the condensers kick in to compensate for the rise
                                          in temperature.
                                                  
             After several moments of passionate necking, I reluctantly broke our lip-
                lock and nestled comfortably against his warm strength. Together we
               generated a mutual fog as we each tried to catch our breath. Then Paul
               spoke in a low, strained-sounding voice: "You don't know how long I've
                                    been wanting to do that..."
                                                  
                                             REALLY???
                                                  
               I swallowed my incredulity and looked up at him wonderingly, and was 
               briefly shocked by the unmistakeable desire mirrored in his smoldering
               blue eyes. Shocked into a boldness I might not otherwise have felt, I
              smiled seductively and replied, "There have been some things I have been
                                  waiting a long time for, too." 
                                                  
               Paul caught the tone of challenge in my voice, and he obligingly took
                                     the bait. "Oh, like what?"
                                                  
              "Like this..." I swung one leg around his legs and resettled myself back
            into his lap, my hips now straddling his. In such a position I could better 
            seek out what my body had been craving ever since I had met Paul; I nudged 
            my crotch exploratorily against his and grinned in exaltation as I felt his 
             answering hardness.

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 So, the fantasy wanted me too. Slowly, I began to rub
               the growing heat of my pussy against his straining erection, and the 
            titillation my clit received, even muted through several layers of clothing,
                                sent spears of pleasure through me. 
                                                  
            As for Paul...his eyes rolled back into his head and his groan echoed dully
              in the confines of the cold chamber. He swallowed convulsively and fixed
                          me with a stern gaze. "Holly...don't tease me."
                                                  
            With a triumphant smile, I slid a hand between our heated bodies and cupped
              his clothed cock. I squeezed, he jumped, and I replied succinctly, "I'm 
                                           not teasing."
                                                  
               My answer seemed to flip a switch somewhere inside Paul's body. With 
              voracious intent, he pressed his lips to mine once more, and his hands 
            began roaming my body with new purpose. I strained against him, every part 
              of my body bent on encouraging his efforts. One hand continued to knead 
             the rigid bulge of his cock, while the other slipped under the elastic of 
               his thick fleece sweatshirt and contacted warm skin. He shivered in a 
             delicious wave, even as I felt both his hands slide up my back underneath 
             my flannel parka. His hands were chill, yet set my skin on fire, and the 
                goosebumps which erected themselves all over my body only served to 
               sensitize me even further to the powerful eroticism of the man and his
                                        electrifying touch. 
                                                  
                 Paul's hands burned a path from my back to my front, and I gasped 
            feverishly as he pushed my bra negligently out of the way and took both my 
              breasts in a firm, authoritative grip. I moaned as he pinched the turgid
             nipples, and I began to work at the zipper of his jeans with considerable
                                               zeal. 
                                                  
             Then, surprisingly, I felt a hand leave the heated haven of my breast and 
              descend to close firmly upon my industrious one at his fly. I blinked at
              him in confusion as he fixed me with that steely gaze, and in a strained
              voice he said, "Holly, I'm not ready to become a father." He stated the 
            fact with an inquiring lilt which indicated a question, and with a relieved
             and tender smile I replied softly, "I'm on the pill, Paul. Now please..."
               I began to tug at his obstinate zipper with renewed purpose, and this
                                time, he eagerly offered his help. 
                                                  
             With his assistance, his cock was quickly freed from its constraints, and 
               leapt vigorously up into the air with a life of its own. As his heated
                flesh sprang into the cold air, Paul gave a pained grunt and swore 
            vehemently. With a startled realization I echoed his epithet. How careless 
               of me!! With apologetic haste (not untempered with a certain eagerness
               of my own!) I slipped to my knees on the cold room floor and without 
             preamble I took his straining penis into my eager mouth. I reveled in the
             slightly salty taste of him and licked and sucked his prick as if it were
                     the world's best popsicle, which, in my opinion, it was. 
                                                  
             For his part, Paul throbbed violently in the hot cavern of my mouth, and 
             his hands wound shakily through my hair, locking my slurping face to his 
               groin, his chair rolling gently back and forth as his hips undulated 
             involuntarily in a slow fucking motion. For my part, I used every bit of 
               my considerable cock-sucking experience to work him up to a righteous 
               frenzy. Very soon he was clutching my head desperately and moaning to 
                                stop, please stop, before he came. 
                                                  
               Reluctantly, I did stop, and slithered up his body to sit in his lap 
               once more. But Paul was done with waiting, and with a determined look
               in his eye he seized the initiative, wrapping his arms around me and 
             standing swiftly. Before I could protest (not that I would have!), he had
             plopped me unceremoniously on the cold formica counter top and was working
              at the button of my jeans. I braced my upper body on my arms behind me 
               and admired the determined set of his jaw as he nearly ripped my jeans
             in the act of getting them open and tugged them roughly off my hips until
                  I was sitting on the lab bench in nothing but my cotton panties.
                                                  
             I squeaked with surprise as he grasped my thighs and pulled my ass to the 
               edge of the counter, then spread my legs and stepped between them. I 
             watched him, mesmerized, as he grabbed a fistful of my panties and pulled
             aside the narrow crotch until he could see my pussy, glistening, steaming,
              and throbbing with anticipation and need. He looked at me hungrily, his
               eyes holding within their expressive depths one final question, a plea
              for permission which I couldn't give more wholeheartedly. A small wimper
            escaped my throat and my eyes literally begged him for what he had to give.
             With his free hand he grasped his cock and aimed it for my pussy, teasing
              my cunt lips with the heated knob and rubbing my clitoris with his slit.
                 I thought I would die, and I shivered uncontrollably with passion.
                                                  
              "Are you cold?" he asked. I gazed up at him heatedly and opened my arms 
                       to him. "Warm me," I gasped roughly. "Please, now..."
                                                  
           Without hesitation, Paul drove his engorged cock into my pussy, and I gasped 
               and shivered and cried out softly as he filled me. He leaned down to 
              gather me into his arms and hold me close and warm as he thrust slowly 
              and powerfully into me, his body quickly warming us both to a pulsating 
             rhythm. I wrapped my legs around his taut ass and used my legs to push him
              into me, and hold him inside me, as much as I could. His prick was like 
             a bar of fire thrusting in and out of me, spreading warmth through me from
                         the inside out, from my cunt to my head and toes. 
                                                  
               With sure and greedy hands he pushed my parka, t-shirt, and bra up my 
              torso and over my breasts, and before I could even feel the cold he was
              upon me with hands and tongue, his mouth catching one rigid nipple and 
               gnawing on it mercilessly while his hand taunted the other. He stroked
              me and stroked into me until I was completely oblivous to the hard bench
               beneath my rear end, our noises of lust and passion filling the tiny 
               room, and the cold biting my naked flesh. All I could do was gasp and
               moan and dig into Paul's shoulders for dear life as fireworks went off
               inside my body, starting deep within my pussy where his cock butted my
            cervix, and spreading out like a spray of hot sparks, until I saw fireworks.
                                                  
               As I came with a vengeance, Paul moaned loudly at the tightening of my
             pussy. Reluctantly he turned his attention away from my tits, thoughtfully
             pulling my parka down to cover them before grabbing my thighs and pushing
              himself deep inside me once more. His pace quickened until he literally 
             slammed into me, the slap of his balls against my pantied ass punctuated 
              by the creak of the cold formica lab bench as he fucked me with vicious 
            abandon. Flailing for something to grasp for support, my hand fell upon the 
            activation button of the microcentrifuge, and it whirred loudly to a start, 
            just drowning out Paul's sudden strident cries of release as he came inside 
             me, his cock twitching and dancing as it filled my pussy with hot sperm. 
                                                  
             I came back to my senses with the harsh sound of the centrifuge filling my
            ears, and the warm, hard weight of my lover covering my body. I stroked his
            back with shaking hands as he raggedly tried to catch his breath. The noisy
               machine clicked off and spun to a silent halt. Only the sound of our 
              breathing and the hum of the condensers now. Shaking, Paul straigtened,
              taking my hands and pulling me up to a sitting position. Cradled between
              my deliciously aching thighs, he continued to stroke slowly, softly into
             me as his cock slowly relaxed, and I quivered in aftershocks of ecstasy. 
            We touched each other tentatively, as if in awe, and whispered nothings to 
                                  each other for a very long time.
                                                  
            Eventually, we slowly put ourselves back together. I helped him to carefully
             tuck his sleepy penis back into his pants, and he helped me pull my jeans
             back on to conceal my ruined underwear. In a dreamlike state, we stared at
               each other as we haphazardly put away our abandoned projects. Then we 
                       embraced and held each other for several long moments.
                                                  
                                 Finally, he spoke. "Are you cold?"
                                                  
              Cold? What was that? I thought I would never be cold again as long as he
                         held me. "Um...no, not really. Maybe a little..."
                                                  
              "How about a cup of coffee? We can get to know each other better..." He 
                              smiled crookedly. My heart flip-flopped.
                                                  
                                    "Sure, I've got some time."
                                                  
                          At that moment, I had all the time in the world.
                                                  
                                                 --
                                                  
                                                   
                                                  


 



 
                                                  

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