Laboratory Love by Chrystal Wynd

there. But not as intense as before. Getting
anally pumped was humiliating, but at least it was keeping the overwhelming
arousal at bay.
    “Corine?”
    I
jumped and cursed. “Dammit, Simon! Stop sneaking up on me like a ninja!” I knew
I was tired if I had heard him before I smelled him.
    He
grinned. “I’ll try to keep that in mind.”
    “Do
that!”
    He
looked me over. “I came in to check on you. How do you feel?”
    I
looked around, trying to find my panties. “How do I feel? Like you were beating
me with a very big stick.”
    Simon
shrugged. “Well, I don’t like to brag…”
    I
looked at Simon in amazement. “Did you just make a dick joke?”
    “Yes,”
he said, wearing Solemn Scientist face. “I don’t believe there’s a Blonde
Concepts rule specifically forbidding them. I’ve never put it to the test, though.”
    I
held up my hand. “All right, all right. I get it. I just haven’t heard you use
that form of humor before.”
    Simon
nodded. “Fair enough,” he said. “This being a professional setting, I
admittedly don’t resort to dick jokes too often. Unless Dr. Banford is around.
He loves dick jokes.”
    My
eyes widened. “Seriously?!”
    Simon
laughed. “No, not seriously.”
    “All
right, smart ass,” I said. “Do you have anything important to share, or are you
just here to make fun of the woman you butt-fucked into oblivion?”
    There.
I had said it. Now he could make fun of me.
    But
he didn’t. He simply said, “Well, I think I did make some progress. I have to
contact a colleague of mine tomorrow…” he glanced at the clock, then amended
himself. “…later today, however, for some confirmation. I’m too tired to get
into to it at the moment, though. For now, we need to go to our respective
homes and get some sleep.”
    It
finally occurred to me how haggard Simon looked. Then I realized with a guilty
start that Simon had been awake for nearly two days trying to help me.
    I
also realized with a blush that I had been almost no help whatsoever.
    “You
really think you’re on to something?”
    Simon
nodded. “Yes,” he said. “In fact, I have something for you.”
    I
stepped back with both hands on my sore bottom, an apprehensive look on my
face.
    Simon
laughed. “No, not that,” he said, holding up a syringe. “A different kind of
shot.”
    “What
is that?” I asked, trying not to sound suspicious.
    “Hopefully
confirmation that I’m right,” he said. “If I’m wrong, though, this won’t hurt
you.”
    “Fine,”
I grumbled. “Whatever, Mister Mystery Scientist guy. Which arm?”
    He
shook his head. “Not the arm. Hip.”
    I
gave him a look through narrowed eyes, but turned slightly and pulled up the
hem of my skirt, offering a bared rounded hip.
    I
felt the needle slide into my right butt cheek, which seemed a lot lower than
necessary. I yelped and gave him a glare.
    He
took a step back and affected an innocent expression. “What?”
    “That
didn’t feel like a hip placement.”
    “Oops.”
    I
gave him another glare. “It didn’t actually need to be a hip placement, did it?
A shoulder injection would have worked just fine, wouldn’t it?”
    He
gave a teasing smile that melted me. “Maybe,” he said. “Hard to say. I’m a
chemist, not a biologist.”
    I
dropped my skirt back into place, rubbing my butt cheek and muttering about the
duplicity of male scientists in general. If he didn’t smell so good, I’d have
hit him with something.
    “Anyway,”
he said, “go home and get some sleep. We’ll know more tomorrow.”
    I
nodded.
    I
looked at him, unsure of what to do. He had fucked my ass a few hours earlier.
What was the farewell protocol for that? A goodnight kiss? Handshake?
High-five?
    Simon
smiled at me and nodded. Then he turned and left the lab.
    I
sighed. Apparently Simon was fucking me in the name of science. How noble.
     
    *****
    I
dragged myself home. It was Sunday, nearly six in the morning. This whole thing
had started Friday morning.