I turned the device over in my hand. It looked like a curved piece of
plastic, in a general horseshoe shape, but with secondary vertical curve to
it, about six inches across at its widest point. At the base of the “U”
was a black box. As I looked closer. It was a small Radio Shack utility
box, from which a thin cable extended. On the back of the box were mounted
six shiny silver studs.
I looked back up at John. “What is it?”
His smile was cryptic. “Here,” he said, gently taking it from me. “Turn
around.”
I turned my back on him, and felt him lift my hair from my neck. He
slipped the device around my head, the black box pressing against the point
at which my spine joined with my skull. The arms of the device reached up,
hooking over my ears, pressing against my temples with a firm grip.
“Comfy?”
“Not really,” I replied. “What is this thing?” I turned back to face
John.
He reached over for the keyboard on his Mac. “Sit down,” he smiled.
“Relax.”
I sat in the chair, putting my hands on the arms of the chair, leaning
back. The box pressed almost painfully into the back of my head.
John pressed a key; I felt a small tingling at the base of my skull.
“It takes a moment to read you,” John said softly. “Just relax. Close
your eyes.”
After a moment, I felt as if I had raised up off the chair. It was almost
as if I was floating in midair.
I opened my eyes, expecting to see that I was midair, but I was still
seated in the chair.
John smiled at me — that enigmatic smile of his. “How does that feel?”
“I don’t feel anything — anything at all.”
“Exactly.” John pressed a key, and sensation returned to my body.
“So what is this thing? Tell me!” I demanded.
“Probably one of the biggest breakthroughs in medical science,” John said,
solemnly. “The computer actually reads the nervous sensations travelling
up your spine to your brain, and produces a signal that counteracts them.”
He leaned back in his chair. “You also couldn’t move, but you didn’t
attempt to. But it doesn’t affect autonomic functions; those signals
aren’t controlled by the brain.”
My mind boggled. “Oh God,” I stammered. “This could be ideal surgical
anesthesia — without drugs! Chronic pain — forever removed! I get it!
Brilliant!”
“Exactly.” John turned in his chair and typed a line into the Macintosh.
“And that’s why Dr. Smoot was kicked out of I.U.?” I asked.
John nodded. “Who funds the medical school at Indiana?”
“I don’t know.”
“Eli Lily,” John muttered. “The pharmaceutical companies run the medical
schools. The medical schools educate the physicians in the manner that the
drug companies want them to be. Something this simple, this cheap, this
revolutionary could never be allowed to be produced.”
“Oh, wow. What are you going to do with it?”
“You haven’t seen anything yet.” John turned back to his keyboard, and
typed another line. The screen flashed. He turned back to me.
“Dr. Smoot’s program just read the sensory signals your body sends to your
brain so that it could cancel them. I figured that if it could read them,
it could record them. And if it could cancel them, maybe it could produce
them. So I modified his device. Close your eyes.”
I was still stunned from the implications of his previous statements, and
followed his instruction. I heard him press a key on his keyboard, and
felt the tingling again.
The room seemed hot and humid. No, not the room. I was outdoors; there
were sounds — distant and slightly muffled. A crowd of people… distant
music.
I felt that I was still seated; then there was a jerk, and a mechanical
rumbling. The chair I was sitting in moved forward and upward, slowly. My
hands felt like they were clenched tightly in front of me. There was a
strange tightening somewhere in my groin.
Then the bottom dropped out. I was falling, swaying to the right and left,
as the chair moved up and down, rumbling beneath me. There were screams
behind me — muffled somehow — then the chair slowed and stopped.
I opened my eyes. John clicked at his keyboard again. Normal sensation
returned to my body.
“What was that?” I asked, breathlessly.
“You didn’t recognize it? I took you there last summer.”
I dug into my memory. John and I had gone together to the amusement park
at the fairgrounds, Kentucky Kingdom. Suddenly, the memory emerged.
“The roller coaster! How did you do that?”
He turned and opened a drawer. He pulled out another headpiece and a black
box. “Portable recorder. I went to the amusement park and wore it while
riding the coaster.”
“So how come I couldn’t see anything? It records your sensations…”
“But the eyes are above the tap. The device records only what’s beneath it
on the spine.”
“But I could hear. Your ears are above the tap, too.”
“What you heard was the sounds transmitted through the body. Think about
it. The sounds weren’t clear, were they?”
I shook my head.
“Simple vibrations transmitted through the skin and bones. I’m working on
a visual and audial recorder to match the sensations.”
“Like virtual reality?”
John nodded.
“What about computer simulation? Is it possible? Could you — for
instance — do a Super Mario game?”
“Perhaps. There’s a lot more work to be done.” He looked deeply at me.
“I was hoping you’d help me do some research.”
“What kind of research?”
“Remember last summer? After we went to the amusement park?”
I blushed. “I remember. But we agreed that our friendship was not THAT
kind of friendship.”
“Would you consider trying again — for science?”
I blushed again. Last summer’s experience was pleasant, but not ecstatic.
He had been a tender lover, but inexperienced — as I had been. A few
moments of heavy breathing culminating in a scary wait for my monthly
‘visitor’. But this seemed important. A historical moment. I took a deep
breath.
“Okay,” I sighed. “I’ll do it. For science.”
John looked relieved.
I sat back in the chair, crossing my ankles demurely. “So,” I smiled,
softly, “what do you want to do first?”
He looked at me a little nervously. “I was thinking of a… ” He
hesitated a moment. “…a blow job.”
“Oh, really?” I asked, feigning a look of disgust.
“But if you don’t want…” he backed away.
I chuckled, and pulled off the headpiece I was wearing. “That’s fine.
Right here?”
He nodded. “Just let me get into the gear.” He put on a headset, and
plugged it into the portable unit he had showed me. He pressed a series of
buttons, and small LEDs lit up on the unit.
He pulled off his tee-shirt, kicked off his shoes and started to unbutton
his trousers.
“Are you recording yet?” I asked.
“Not yet.”
“Then wait,” I said. I got up from my chair and pushed him down in his.
“Start the machine,” I commanded. He pressed a button and a green LED lit
up.
I knelt down on the floor in front of his chair. I ran my hands over his
thighs, pressing my thumbs into the soft area on the inside of his legs. I
could see a bulge beginning to expand in the crotch of his jeans.
I pushed my hands up further, until my thumbs were in the area under his
zipper, my fingers forming a cup over the growing bulge.
I traced the contours of his erection through his pants with my fingers,
then slowly, I reached up and unbuttoned the waistband of his jeans.
John moaned softly as my fingers found the zipper pull, and I slowly —
ever so slowly — pulled the zipper down. I grasped his waistband, and he
lifted his hips as I pulled his jeans down to his knees.
His white underwear tented forward with his erection. I leaned back and
pushed his jeans down his legs and tossed them aside. Moving back between
his knees, I again traced my fingers up his bare thighs until I reached his
Jockey shorts. Again, moving very slowly, I fingered his cock and balls
through the thin fabric of his undershorts. Somehow, I didn’t remember him
being quite this large… but then again, my memory of our evening a year
back was somewhat hazy.
I leaned forward and kissed his belly, as I slid my fingers under the
waistband of his shorts. Again, he lifted his hips, and I pushed the
garment down his thighs.
I sat back again, and pulled the underwear off. He held his knees
together, his erection sticking up from his lap.
I touched his knees, and he spread them open again. I leaned forward and
kissed his thigh, then moved my lips slowly toward his groin. I moved one
hand up between his thighs, until my fingertips touched his scrotum at
about the same time my mouth reached the base of his cock.
My lips brushed his scrotum; his penis jumped a little. I slid my lips up
his shaft, until I reached the throbbing head. I pushed out my tongue,
slipping the tip over the contoured, mushroom-shaped head, tasting the
clear liquid seeping from his organ.
John moaned again as I grasped his shaft with one hand while I took his
cockhead into my mouth. I hooked my front teeth over the ridge of his
glans, and worked my tongue under and around his cockhead, sucking gently.
I began slow, deliberate strokes on his shaft with my hand, while my mouth
worked his cockhead. I slipped my other hand up under his balls, massaging
them gently.
I began to bob slowly on his dick, slowly taking more and more of him into
my mouth, until he ‘bottomed out’ at the back of my throat. My nose was
still an inch away from his fuzzy pubic hair.
Pulling back, I swirled my tongue again around his cockhead, then with just
his cockhead in my mouth, I pumped his shaft with my hand while rubbing the
underside of his glans with the back of my tongue.
John took a deep, hissing breath. I felt his balls move in my hand, his
cock jerked, and my mouth filled with his thick, warm semen. I slowed my
stroking while he came. When he stopped spurting, I sat back and
swallowed, my hands still on his cock and balls.
He reached over and tapped a button on the machine, then flopped back in
the chair. After a moment, his eyes opened a crack.
“Oh, Ghod, Mary….” he breathed.
I smiled up at him. His cock was softening in my hand. I let go and sat
back onto the floor.
“John,” I said softly.
He cracked open his eyes again. “Uh-huh?”
“Can you play that back for me?”
His eyes popped open. “What?”
I smiled up at him. “Really. I’d like to know what that feels like.”
John sat up. He unplugged the recording headpiece from the machine, and
handed me the receiving one. I slipped it under my hair and hooked it over
my ears like before.
John stood up, his manhood dangling, and checked the headpiece position.
“Looks okay,” he mumbled. He plugged the thin cable from my headpiece into
his recorder.
“Sit down,” he said. “Get comfortable. Close your eyes; it helps the
effect.”
I sat down, crossed my ankles, leaned back, and closed my eyes. I heard
John push a button on his machine, and the tingling began at my neck. My
body floated a moment, then I could feel ‘myself’ again. At least the
recorded ‘self’.
Fingers ran up my thighs, thumbs pressing into the soft flesh between my
legs. I could feel an unfamiliar pressure building in my groin. The
fingers tickled as they moved around my groin, circling the absolutely
amazing feeling of fullness in my lower body.
Then there was some release of pressure as I lifted my hips and my jeans
were pulled down my legs. I felt a brush of fabric and flesh against my
bare knees, and the jeans came off my feet.
The fingers again, getting closer to my — my cock. I mentally gasped as I
realized that I really had one. At least I could certainly feel it.
The fingers touched … my scrotum, I remembered … then I felt the kiss
on my thigh, and the warm breath on my leg as the lips slid upward. I felt
the warmth of a body between my legs, and the soft touch of lips up ‘my’
shaft.
Then my mind was boggled by the warm, full sensation of a mouth
encompassing the sensitive end of my penis, and the movement of a swirling
tongue.
Without any previous reference point, I could not compare the sensation to
anything I had ever done before. My mind whirled in confusion and delight,
a veritable tornado of pleasure sweeping through me. Then there was a pain
— a pressure — deep in my chest, then I felt a surge rush through me.
The mouth on ‘my’ penis stopped; another surge and another and another; I
realized that I was coming into… into my own mouth! My mind boggled
again at the improbability of it all.
My body sagged into the chair. There was a tingling sensation at the back
of my neck, and I opened my eyes.
John was staring at me, still naked, but with his penis about half-erect.
I looked into his eyes.
“Oh, Ghod, John. No wonder men like that so much.”
John smiled. “How do you feel?”
“Spent… and horny. At the same time.”
John leaned forward and kissed my cheek. I turned; and kissed him on the
mouth.
He started to pull away, but I caught his head with my hands and held it
while I kissed him again. I opened my mouth; his tongue slid between my
lips. I met it with mine.
He lowered his body onto the chair beside me. His hand slid down my arm to
my shoulder, then down my side. Then — timidly it seemed to me — it slid
over to cover my breast.
My nipples felt like they were about to burst through my bra. I moaned
softly at the pressure of his hand against my nipple.
John pulled back. “Hold on,” he murmured. “Let’s not waste this.”
He got up and rummaged in his equipment. He located a second recording
headpiece and slipped it on. He plugged in the recorder, and picked up the
other headpiece.
He took off the headpiece I was still wearing, and replaced it with the
other recording one, and plugged it into the machine.
“Will this work?” I asked. “Can you record two people’s sensations on the
same machine?”
John’s expression was quizzical. “I don’t know for sure — I’ve never
tried it. But it should work…”
He started the recorder, and set the machine on the floor. He turned to me
again, and I kissed him. His hand found my breast again, the nipple was no
less hard than it had been moments before.
I pushed John back with a hand to the chest. I sat up and pulled my blouse
off over my head. I realized that the cable from the recorder was now
passing through the blouse, so I dropped it down on top of the machine. I
then reached behind me and unhooked my bra. John took it from me, then
dropped his head down and took one nipple between his lips, tickling it
with the tip of his tongue.
He dropped the bra on the floor. I unfastened the snap on my slacks, and
unzipped them on the side. I wiggled out of them, naked save for my
panties — and the headpiece.
John’s mouth was busy with one nipple, his fingers on the other. I reached
down and grasped his penis with my hand…
…there was a tingle at the back of my neck…
…and I felt a heaviness in my groin. I recognized it from the blowjob
tape — it was the sensation of having an erect penis. I could feel my own
fingers gripping the penis as if it were my own.
John stiffened. His mouth released my nipple. “Mary — are you feeling
what I’m feeling?”
“I think so — what are you feeling?”
“I feel myself sucking at my own tit.”
I nodded. “And I’m holding my own cock.”
John shivered. “It does feel strange, doesn’t it? Almost like
masturbating.”
He slid his hand from my breast down my belly, and cupped my pussy under
his fingers. “Oh, Ghod,” he breathed. “I feel that, too!”
His fingers traced the contours of my pussy lips through my panties. I
could feel the sensations in my own fingers– as well as the warmth his
caresses produced inside me.
He pushed the crotch of my panties aside, and dipped a finger into my wet
hole. “Unbelievable,” he whispered.
He turned, and lowered his head until his mouth reached my pussy. His
tongue slid over my engorged and aching clit. His cock jumped in my hand.
“That felt like…” he breathed.
“…a tongue on your cock,” I sighed. “I know. I know.”
He dove in again, this time in earnest, his tongue swirling over my clit as
his finger diddled just inside my cunt. I began to stroke his cock lazily,
my mind swirling between my own sensations and his, until I felt myself
just on the brink of orgasm.
My hand stopped; his tongue didn’t.
My abdomen contracted violently. His cock jerked in my hand as if it had a
life of its own. Waves of pleasure radiated from my pussy, flooding my
body, making it vibrate. He felt the same thing, halting all movement
while our bodies shook as if in an earthquake.
As the contractions subsided, he moved again, gathering me into his arms.
We rolled off the chair and into the floor, our bodies and headpiece cables
tangling together.
He rolled over on top of me, his erection pressing into my lower abdomen.
I pushed him over to the side, and pushed my panties down, and kicked them
off. I pulled him back on top of me, wrapping my legs around his, opening
myself for his/my cock.
I could feel the tight sensation of his erection, and the heat and wetness
of my own arousal. He reached down and placed his cock at the entrance to
my cunt.
I felt the sensation of his cockhead against my clit, and the sensation of
my pussy lips closing around his cock.
He pushed forward gently, sliding easily inside me; I could feel the
pressure of my vaginal muscles tightening around my shaft as he began to
stroke in and out.
My cockhead burned; my clit buzzed. My brests pressed against my chest,
the nipples hard points against me. My breath deepened and sped up. I
could feel a pressure just behind my penis, a tightening deep in my vagina,
and the rush of intense pleasure as I — we — came together in a mutual
climax.
He lay atop me, breathless, for a moment before he reached over and tapped
the ‘off’ button on the recorder. We held each other tightly again, his
penis wilting inside me. I kissed his cheek as he nuzzed my neck.
