My Only Talent Ch. 32

This all happened in seemingly a nanosecond. I felt her breathing, her heart rate, her excitement. I somehow knew just what she was feeling, because I was feeling it too.

One of the people in my embedded systems class was in Air Force ROTC. She called it "the 825" and said she planned to be a pilot after she graduated. She told us about "IFF" systems - Identification Friend or Foe. They started as radar signaling protocols in WW2 but now used several wireless modalities, so that hopefully in the fog of war friendlies didn't shoot friendlies. Like the transponders on commercial or private planes that could 'squawk' certain codes to indicate altitude or emergency status, these systems communicated status as a friendly or a target.

Was this the kind of powerful connection that had caused Nora's parents warn her about relationships with 'talented males' like me? Was it something she couldn't resist? I sure couldn't resist it.

I realized we had just been in a flight or fight situation together earlier, and wondered if maybe that triggered this reflex. I suppose the potential had always been there - we just woke it up. Then I realized this was not a yes/no reflex: it was tristate logic: Flee, Fight, ... or Fuck. A built-in biological "FFF" system. And I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that the lovely and semi-virginal Miss Nora Upman and I were definitely going to fuck. Right now.

Did this system evolve or was it designed? Above my pay grade, I suppose. But if it evolved over millions of years, how come I also didn't evolve that huge dick I should have? But evolved or designed, what was it for? Like everything else I suppose: the procreation and survival of the species. Maximizing the occurrence of my genes in the next generation, and hers. More correctly, our genes. Whatever. I knew one thing: Dr. Augie had no inkling of how right he was about some of this stuff!

And until this very moment, I had no inkling of how right Nora was for me. But I had no time to contemplate that, either, because I was in the midst of an overwhelmingly powerful lizard brain imperative neural overlord command to top her and fuck her. This was the real 'prime directive'! Of course this was something I had wanted to do since I first met her, and at one sad time something I thought I would never actually get to do. But that was now completely beside the point. My connection to Nora was accelerating, and so was my heartbeat. I felt her excitement. Hormones and pheromones cascaded in and between our bodies.

In many of my daydreams about this first time with Nora, I had been tender and slow, teasing her until she begged me to take her. But I felt her pulsing need and complete desire just like I felt mine. I moved forward as fast as possible - on just the frontier of her not being ready. As soon she began to feel desire for the next step - I took it. She was swept away. This wasn't tender, or patient, or any of the sweet things I had fantasized about. This was a raw and primal sexual avalanche, stripped bare of all niceties, and it was wonderful beyond compare.

We melted together like quicksilver, we exchanged fluids like we were both made of DMSO. She was me and I was her and we were we. It didn't take her long to take my derivative, and I was damn pleased to become and integral part of her. It couldn't have taken more than ten deep, strong, completely penetrating thrusts, and suddenly I was making a delivery, with a sense of primal accomplishment and satisfaction that words would stain. She had a simultaneous and powerful orgasm, and her pelvic musculature gripped and milked me in a way that I would have thought anatomically impossible before. Our climax was simultaneous, as if our nervous systems were locked together. They were - just like our bodies. Somehow, I was disappointed that there was no egg in place to be fertilized. Now just how did I know that? But, I was absolutely sure I did.

Nora and I then ensnared each other in a tangle of arms and legs and then began to drift off to a very deep and contented sleep.

Suddenly I was a little bitty baby boy, being bathed by my grandmother in one of those little blue plastic bathtubs that you use for babies that are too small to be safely handled in the regular tub, plus it will kill your back leaning over that far. My grandmother was singing happily, enjoying bathing her new grandson. I was enjoying it too. She was sweetly singing a song that I had never remembered before, but I heard it perfectly now:

"You made me love you... I didn't wanna do it,

I didn't wanna do it.

You made me love you...

and all the time you knew it,

I guess you always knew it."

I suddenly realized that I must have been much less than a year old at the time of that bath, and that I didn't really know what most of those words, or maybe what any words meant, until I was older than that. That was something to think about, linguistically speaking. I could hear my grandmother's lilting and flirty 'little girl voice' and inferred it was a song from when she herself was little. I could hear it perfectly, with her breathing and inflections, plus feel the soapy water on my skin, smell the new mown grass outside, and hear the muted snap of the starched curtains in the breeze through the open window of our old house. Total recall.

I felt completely accepted, contented, cared for, and loved. Then little Miss Nora Upman somehow entered my dream and climbed into the little tub with me, snuggled her skinny little less than one-year-old body against mine, and shared the warm water, the song, and the love.

++++++++++++++++++++

Nora and I awoke in a whole new world. And at exactly the same time. We had slept for more than nine hours. I felt more relaxed and content than ever before.

"Good morning, Tarzan. Jane wants breakfast. Downstairs. So we both have to get up and get dressed."

I groaned, but my stomach growled in agreement with her plan. I began to look for my clothes.

"Then Jane wants Tarzan again, but his time slower and more patiently, and in several different ways, please. Not that it wasn't totally amazing last night. What the hell happened to us?"

I wasn't sure how much I should discuss with her, but then again, she was about the only one I could really talk to about this stuff, wasn't she?

"Well, it seems like we developed some sort of direct 'brain to brain' communications system."

She giggled. "More like dick to pussy, or more exactly amygdala to amygdala, I'll wager. It was quite a jolt, wasn't it?"

I kissed her, and hugged her tight. "It was fantastic, Nora. You are fantastic."

"You are a bounder, Mr. Roberts, but I am afraid I just can't resist you.

"You know that I love you, Nora?"

"Yes, and you must know I love you. Even my mother already figured that out. I also have some serious plans for you. But let's consider the next two days in San Antonio a little vacation. I must say I will certainly always remember the Alamo! But for now we'll just have fun and not be too serious. But you do know how organized and goal-directed I can be, and I do have a bucket list, and limited available time."

The way she said it reminded me of the two bouncing tennis twins enthusiastically describing their planned future sexual encounters. Nora had only a little more experience than they did, and I'll bet my left nut she was more creative and thorough. I suspect her plans revolved around where we would both spend our summers.

I had to make my final summer job pick next week, and I was leaning toward the Chunnel project because I could spend my off hours in decadent Britain rather than the much less libertine (at least officially) UAE. But that was all pre-Nora. I suspected I would soon divide and chronicle my epochs into pre and post Nora years. Was Nora going to move to Boston to do two years at HBS, or go for a PhD directly? If so, where?

But right now, breakfast. Hopefully I have done all my fighting for this trip, but there is still a lot of fucking to do. It's my duty.

++++++++++++++++++++

I drove North from Austin toward Prosperous trying to think about anything but the three girl 'pussy party' that was about to play out at Lara's place. Of course that meant I thought about it obsessively. Nora would pretty much be the 'guest of honor' and I am sure the resulting action would exceed even my most imaginative voyeuristic lesbian fantasies. It seemed such a waste for me not to be there, but I was not invited. I realized they would just now be hooking up with each other, and over the next three hours of my drive they would be doing all sorts of showy and delicious things to each other. I didn't even know how to tap into Lara's webcam. I hope no one else did.

My car was purring along, undamaged from our little adventure in the San Antonio parking garage, and fun to drive. Not as much fun as I could be having at Lara's, though. I got a text from my grandmother saying she was cooking supper and would be ready to serve soon after I arrived. That perked me up a little.

In my Engineering 101 class first semester, we had one lecture on each engineering 'sub-discipline': mechanical, electrical, civil, chemical, petroleum, aerospace, biomedical, etc. The chemical engineering lecture emphasized design of overall process flow and the various reaction vessels - matching exothermic and endothermic steps so they could feed each other's energy needs, arranging heat exchangers, pressure vessels, holding tanks, etc. to speed the rate limiting step of the overall process, usually the major determinant of cost, and minimize the capital cost of the plant, usually the second major determinant of cost. Mass balances and energy balances and waste not want not; design in space; design to cost; anticipate failure modes and maintenance turnarounds. I couldn't help but think of my grandmother's composting system.

She had a defined flow for everything, and wasted nothing. Leaves and grass cuttings and fallen limbs were picked up by a big PTO powered yard vac on her little orange tractor and then chopped and shredded and finely combined in the proper proportions. Kitchen vegetable wastes were processed with water in a dedicated VitaMix blender, and then poured on the compost pile, which was composed of several alternating three sided cinder block storage areas spaced so that she could turn the compost piles regularly with the front end loader on her little tractor. One end of 'compost row' housed the green grass and leaves raw materials stack, and then the brown woody wastes that were either roughly shredded for mulch or more finely shredded to go into the compost mix. Then there were three 'in process bins' for compost batches to be mixed and turned as they went through in various stages of decomposition, and a final one that held 'finished' compost - black gold, she called it. Fat and animal waste went into a storage bin and eventually wound up in a biodiesel plant south of Dallas.

Moving to the acreage in Prosperous had allowed her to scale up her system to high volume production. Her newest setup was her best ever, with plenty of room and sunlight for growing tomatoes, asparagus, broccoli, several varieties of peppers, squash, blackberries, onions and several varieties of lettuce. She now produced so much that she traded for stuff she didn't grow, and sold the excess. She had traded for fresh chicken, eggs, and some homemade chorizo for my visit. There were also beef, venison and elk steaks and wild boar in the freezer from my grandfather's hunting leases. He didn't hunt anymore, but the old homestead where he grew up, about 100 miles northwest of here next to the Waggoner Ranch, was prime hunting grounds, and the lessees kept him supplied with some of their take to make sure he would renew their leases. He could have started his own very big lobbying firm just to influence the folks he leased to. Grandma was counting on me to consume mass quantities during my visit. I would try my best.

Everyone was there when I arrived, and Eldee did not search my car for Nora nor seem disappointed to see me without her. My father and grandfather and I sat on the couch as grandma finished off final supper prep. My grandfather asked about school. I told him it was more difficult than first semester, but I was coping. Eldee came in from the kitchen, moving slower than usual, and surprisingly put her head on my foot. She had been sort of just tolerating me for the last few years after I accidentally stepped on her foot when I was in high school. My father and grandfather did a double take.

Supper was amazing, and my grandmother beamed as a I polished off seconds of everything, especially fresh warm brownies with Blue Bell 'Homemade Vanilla' ice cream. The temporary cessation of Blue Bell production had almost qualified as an existential threat to my way of life. It was the best thing I knew of to fuel my little fractal antennas and their almost insatiable need for glucose in my blood stream. Blue Bell still had a reduced set of flavors available, but they were on the comeback.

While my father and I cleaned up the kitchen, I told him about a few of my Suzie signal wins and losses, but I stayed away from Suzanne's gang bang images, the 'pussy party' that I was missing, or any of the images I was receiving, for that matter. I did tell him I spent that last three days with Nora, and he looked very pleased.

"So she's giving it up for you then?"

I laughed. "That doesn't even begin to describe it, Dad. She is magical!"

"And everything is still okay with Lara and Suzanne?"

He could tell my expression changed subtly at the mention of Suzanne, but he didn't press me. I told him about the pecuniary Suzie from Jean Nancy and the curiosity Suzie signals I had heard from the two girls at the dorm, and about the offer from the two fit trainers from my conditioning class. He made me tell him all about Rene' and Rene' twice. Horny old goat.

When we all decided to hit the sack, Eldee, who normally stayed within range of Grandma, and always slept in my grandparent's bedroom, insisted on coming up to my room. Even more amazingly, she insisted that I scratch her ears before she settled down at the foot of my bed. Will wonders never cease? I tried not to dream of my three girls back in Austin. Unsuccessfully.