My Only Talent Ch. 22

I realized I was fascinated with Lara's pretty pink anus. Its little puckers and twists beguiled me. Its little motions as I played with it were wonderful. I used my tongue to touch it, every so lightly, and I could feel the cute little contractions as my tongue flicked around it. I wanted to put my cock in it, but first, more from my tongue. I was not sure why, but it just fascinated me. I kissed her ass in random patterns, looking for some corresponding pattern in her Suzie signal responses. I noticed two things: her Suzie was ramping up and her glorious little twat was beginning to drip even more of its magic elixir of love. I got her to the point of being so excited that she was almost getting frustrated, and at the last minute I slipped a finger into her pussy and found her squishy little G spot. I synchronized my light finger touches with not so light tongue thrusts, enticing her to come from anal stimulation just like Mrs. Douglass had taught me. Lara may be my best student ever. She came surpassingly fast, twice, and I think I enjoyed it more than she did, drinking in her Suzie signal like enjoying a concert I had co-written.

It was time for some more contrast therapy for her. I knelt behind her and pushed my cock into her sweet little pink puckering, slow and steady. She made a wonderful little noise when I reached what I thought was the maximum for this first delicious excursion, but then she pushed back against me and got a little more. Is she perfect or what? I increased my pace and depth and was soon giving her almost everything I had, and her juices flowed down onto my thighs, and the bed. I reached around her and twiddled her clit and she came beautifully, her ass gripping my dick for one delightful little squeeze and then relaxing even further, encouraging me to plumb her depths even more. I whispered in her ear "You are so beautiful Lara, and I just can't resist fucking your sweet little ass as hard as I can."

She drew in a huge gasping breath and arched her back down sending her ass up towards me a little more. I kissed her shoulders briefly, grabbed her waist just below her ribcage with both hands, and proceeded to fuck her ass like there was no tomorrow. Her Suzie was only serving as automatic alarm or non-verbal safe word should I hurt her, but otherwise I just set my inner lizard free and joyously fucked away. It was my destiny. I felt like the king of creation, pounding away and looking down at the fleshy standing waves I was making in her perfect buttocks. They should use this image to teach the subtleties of wave motion to us horny college boys: the attention span would be almost infinite. I looked over in the mirror and my eyes met Lara's -- they were wide and loving. Mine may have looked predatory, but I tried my best to convey that she was my favorite prey.

Her Suzie took on some of that raspy note that said she was really turned on, the clue that a little more humiliation might pump her swing even higher. I pulled my cock out of her ass, getting two sonic rewards: a wonderful little 'pop' when it left her anus and a sigh from her that said 'where did it go?' It went directly in her sweet little mouth and her Suzie immediately flamed like a sparkler stuck into pure oxygen. Her sucking became frantic, but I pulled out before she could finish me off. Her Suzie said 'put it back in my ass!' but she would have to wait for it. I bent down and beheld her inflamed little anus, red, sweaty, slightly enlarged, and pulsing with excitement. Below it, from this angle, her pussy lips were red and engorged and beautiful, and covered with a lovely sheen of sweet lubrication. The monkey wanted it all.

No finger for the pussy, though, just an excited and almost prehensile tongue exploring that fine ass as far as humanly possible. I pulled back and spanked those perfect buttocks and marveled at their beauty. Her Suzie said "If you are not going to fuck it at least spank it harder.' I did. But when it was fully red and her breath came in rapid shudders, I plunged my cock back into her ass and drove for the finish line. I looked up into the mirror and saw I was up on my tiptoes and pounding into her at a very steep angle. The catalog restraint device was actually a fine piece of biomedical engineering, opening her ass up to me almost perfectly, and it was good. My eyes met Lara's in the mirror again, and I said "Your ass is mine, Lara!" and shot off in her with everything I had, continuing to pound for several strokes even when I knew that I had nothing left to deliver.

We lay in each other's arms for a long time, and stayed wrapped together as we went into the kitchen and fed each other cold leftover chicken thighs with our fingers. I couldn't stop kissing her. I hoped I never had to. As I left Lara's, an email from Asa Weltschmerz pinged into my phone's inbox. He wanted me to come to his office Thursday, so we could review my MRI test results in person. He said my final exam should finish just before noon and I should then come right over and we could have lunch in his conference room. How the heck did he know my schedule so well? I spent the afternoon going over everything for my last final, and felt pretty good about it. My growling stomach reminded me that the dinner line was now open. After some significant supper, I went to bed early. Thursday would be a busy day: a final exam, lunch with Asa and the possible bad news that created the worry I saw in his eyes Tuesday morning and what I hoped would be a breakthrough and perhaps near final session with Erminia and Millie.

The final exam was anticlimactic; it was exactly the same as the practice exam that was handed out in the sparsely attended review sessions, and I had not only worked all the problems out before and checked them, but reviewed them all with Oiler. I knocked it out of the park. School goals for first semester: Check! My exuberance waned as I approached Asa's office, worried about what he might have to say to me. The receptionist bade me sit in the waiting room, where I immediately noticed there were four very attractive young women. Since school was now officially over until next semester, it was of course my duty to check out the beauty.

But I got a surprise! The four women were two couples, sending that interference style signal that said 'women only' and signaling absolutely no interest in me at all, there was in fact a not so subtle note of hostility instead. Their loss, I told myself. But then a very unusual signal came up out of the noise and hit me right between the ears, from the dowdy looking forty something receptionist, who was virtually a dead ringer for the church lady on Saturday Night Live. It was pure unadulterated lust, unbridled by any other consideration, accompanied by the strongest and most dramatically modulated Suzie carrier I had ever encountered. The images were not hard to decode, it fact they were impossible to avoid, and her black box sexual event data recorder was not at all protected, it was like an open and well lit book. She was ten years divorced, with no sexual activity since then, but had never allowed herself to pursue her recurring sexual fantasies. She was into young boys, and at 18, I was toward the top end of her preferred age range. But that did not inhibit her from imagining doing just about everything to me that I had ever experienced, starting with a reenactment of Peggy's little Greco-Roman style hand job with a side order of frantic anilingus. Holy Toledo!

I couldn't help myself. I stood up and walked over to the front of her desk and stood close to her, with my crotch right at her eye level. She looked shamelessly, and I got an inkling of what being ogled by a horny guy felt like. I smiled at her, turned around and then bent over and retied my shoes. Her Suzie blew up, and she leaned toward me, lips pursed. About that time, Asa opened his door and asked me to come in. Even though I had initiated that little scene, I was suddenly glad for the escape route.

When I went into his office, he led me into the adjoining conference room, and gestured towered a plentiful looking sandwich buffet. This looked a lot better than any hospital food I had ever heard of. I saw a little hospital catering ticket on the side of the table that said "Board Room Menu #2" with a list of stuff from a local deli, and a warm cookie delivery place that served corporate accounts.

"Have a seat Robbie. Make yourself a sandwich. You can take the couch if you want, you may need therapy to deal with all this."

"You mean psychotherapy, physical therapy, chemotherapy, or...."

"Well talking about it might help. I will never reveal anything you say to me about this to anyone, even Lara."

"I will have to talk to her about it eventually, I think, but not now. I won't talk about anyone but me, either."

"OK. I'll tell you everything I learned from your testing, and then you can decide what you want to tell me. I agree with Dr. Grandael, you are burning a lot more energy than your food, exercise and basal metabolic rate would account for. She couldn't explain it, and I think I can, but it's not simple."

It sounded funny to hear Saskia called 'Dr. Grandael, but I guess she was.

"She thought of all the 'normal' explanations except one, and her testing plan was very well considered and ruled out all the ones she thought of. Doctor Dee eliminated the only other simple explanation I could think of. It might have been that you had problems with your intestinal tract, such that you were not fully digesting what you ate, and thus not extracting all the calories from it. But that's not it, either. He confirmed that your digestion is virtually optimal, in fact he said your stools were 'fantastic'."

Ewww. Keep me away from that guy.

"The good news is that you don't have a tumor in your brain or anywhere else for that matter. But the numbers do make sense if we assume that your brain burns somewhere between three and four times as much energy as normal. Yours seems to be doing a lot of extra work on something."

"You mean I need 150 to 200 grams of glucose each day for my brain, instead of 50?"

"Exactly! How do you know that?"

"My high school health class actually taught me more than how to put on a condom and how to find Planned Parenthood on the web. I guess that extra 'brain drain' might explain why I am hungry all the time and crave sweets after meals."

"That's my guess, too. To confirm it, we would have to run something called a functional MRI, in fact a new variant of it that I developed that would tell us when your brain was burning all this energy and where most of the activity was, and what kind of cells were using it. But I can't run that test without leaving some permanent records, which I would advise you against creating right now. "

"So you don't know what is happening to make me use all that energy?"

"Not conclusively but I think I may know where you are burning it. What I don't know yet is why, or what all that activity accomplishes. I really, really want to know, more than anything I have ever studied in the neurosciences before. You see, Robbie, you have some very unusual structures in your brain, something I have never seen before anywhere, and would never believed if I hadn't seen them myself. But now I have 'an existence proof' that I can't ignore!"

"So you never would have thought these things possible, but here they are in my head so you have to accept that they are not only possible, but that they exist?"

"Exactly. But remember I didn't make even a single copy of any of the images of your brain. I am just working from memory. Normally I would study the images for hours before making even a preliminary conclusion. With you, I just have to wing it, which is not good science, but it's all I have right now. Have you ever heard of something called 'mirror neurons', Robbie? "

"No, but my tennis coach used to go on and on about 'motor neurons' and how we could program them be watching our ground strokes or serves in the mirror."

"He may have been a really smart coach. Mirror neurons are nerve cells in your body that help you to mimic something you observe another person doing. Like watching a tennis player with a good serve and then trying to copy what they do. Your mirror neurons fire as if you were doing what the other person does, 'mirroring' what their nerves do. A good dancer who can watch someone else do a dance routine and then reproduce it on the first try may have lots of mirror neurons with lots of connections to their motor neurons and the reflex arcs around them."

I was starting to put things together. "So the mirror neurons would tell the motor neurons if they were doing it like the other person did?"

"Bingo. Some people say impressionist comics have lots of mirror neurons, so they can quickly learn to talk and hold their faces like other people. And good actors are really good at sending messages to the audience's emotional mirror neurons, making them feel the emotions they are trying to project."

He walked over to the white board on the wall, and drew several small circles and one big one divided into a top and bottom half. "Let's say these small circles are mirror neurons, the average amount that most people have, and the big circle is your brain: the top half is your cerebral cortex, the 'thinking' or 'associative' part of your brain, and the bottom half is the 'automatic' part of your brain."

"What they sometimes call the 'lizard brain'?"

"That's right." He then drew lines from each little circle to each other little circle and to each half of the big circle. "This would be the connections that a 'normal' person has between mirror neurons and the brain, they are really 'nerve fibers' insulated with fatty cells that run in 'wiring harnesses' we call neural tracts. But your connections are different."

He quickly drew dozens of lines between each mirror cell and the others, and dozens more from each mirror cell to dozens of places in each half of the brain. "You have many, many more connections than normal, and they go to many more and different places in your brain than normal. Your mirror neurons are actually some of the most 'connected' nerve cells I have ever seen in any brain."

Then he began to draw dozens and dozens of the mirror cells, almost filling up the white board. "You also have many more mirror neurons than I have ever seen before." Then he began to draw lines connecting all the cells to each other and also to many places in both halves of the brain. "And they are also connected to each other and to thousands of places in your brain." The middle of the board was almost all black with circles and lines filling it completely.

He looked at me funny. "If that weren't enough, there are some very unusual structures in your brain that I have never seen before, in any animal, much less a human. They look almost like microscopic fractal antennas, and they are connected to all your multitudinous mirror cells and except for those nerve tract connections, they are totally insulated from the rest of your brain."

This was a lot to take in at once, but it also made some sense. "You mean electrically insulated?"

"Yes, but thermally insulated too. The brain uses a fat called myelin as an insulator, and special cells grow and wrap it around and around nerve cells like electrical tape around a wire. The more layers that are built up, the better the 'R-value' if you will, and you have more layers than I ever would have thought possible. Robbie, have there ever been any x-rays taken of your head?"

"Only once that I know of. When I was eleven, I was playing tennis at the old country club and I was goofing around with my friend, acting crazy. I charged the net, and tripped, and bonked my head pretty hard on one of those old style permanent metal net posts. The new ones are all breakaways that pop out of the ground if you run into them. They took me to Parkland ER and did an x-ray and said everything was fine. Now that I think about it, when my dad got there he was relieved that I was okay, but then he was totally pissed, like he almost never gets, saying they should not have exposed me to x-rays without his consent. He called some big time lawyer buddy, and the hospital agreed to give him the films and destroy all their copies, in return for him not suing them. He made a big stink about it and some people said he should wear a tinfoil hat and watch out for UFOs. He laughed, but he is not like that. He is still the most rational guy I know. Come to think of it, though, the club replaced all the net posts with modern ones right after that. "

Asa got that look on his face that people get when wheels are spinning rapidly inside their heads. "Do you suppose your father still has those films? Did he ever tell you to avoid other things besides x-rays?"

"He said he burned them. My parents made me promise to stay celibate until I turned 18, and not to drink or use dope, either."

"Did they say why?"

"My grandmother said 'You should wait until your brain matures properly'."

Asa's countenance changed, like he had reached a conclusion.

"Robbie, here's what I think. You have a set of very special mirror neurons with some kind of neural antennas attached to them. I'm not sure what they do, but I think that you burn up a lot of brainpower, and thus sugar, using them."

"Using them to do what?"

"Lara tells me you seem to be unnaturally good at reading her moods and remarkably successful at pleasing her in bed. Would you please tell me your impressions of the ladies you met in the waiting room?"

"Well, they were really beautiful, but they liked each other a lot more than they liked me, romantically speaking, at least."

"How do you know that?"

Now I was nervous. "Just a hunch."

"So none of the women were interested in you sexually?"

I snorted. "Your little experiment didn't produce the results you expected, eh, Doc? One of them was crazy hot for me!" I tried not to sound childish and petulant.

He looked really surprised, then a little guilty. "OK, you got me. Those are two very out and committed lesbian couples who work here at the hospital and seem totally happy with each other. Which one of them was interested in you?"

"Not them, Doc. It was your receptionist and assistant."

Now he did look plainly shocked. "Mrs. Machakw?"

"Yep. I think I may be a little old for her, though."

"But she has been divorced for years, and she never dates anybody!"

"I don't know if you would call it dating, Doc, but it's a good thing she doesn't teach junior high age boys, if you know what I mean."

He looked totally shocked. "OK. I'll keep that in mind. What else can you tell me about, Robbie?"

Was it time for truth to be truth? I decided I wanted to know more, so I had to tell him something to get more. There was no risk in telling him the same kind of stuff that Kevin knew, was there? I drew a deep breath and thought for a second.

"Well, Doc, I do get hunches about women, about whether or not they are interested in me sexually. I am right much more often than wrong. It didn't start until I went through puberty, which happened at a much later age for me than all my friends did. As I got older, the hunches got more accurate. I can also sometimes tell if a woman likes another guy or not, even if she doesn't like me."

He looked very thoughtful. "That's all?"

"Well I think it's pretty darned useful not to waste time chasing girls that don't want me to catch them!"

"Yes I suppose it would be. But Lara tells me that you seem to know when she needs tender kisses and when she needs to be treated rough. How does that work?"

"It's like a hunch, too. The more time I spend with her, the better my hunches seem to be. But Lara is so wonderful and so attractive to me and gets me so excited that I just want do everything I can think of to her. I think she just likes everything that I do, whenever I do it."