Up T'smoe

Up T'Smoke. 5. Stanford.

The flight to California was long, 11 h with United, even in Business Class it was tiring and I slept a lot.

My contact with the pharmaceutical group was one of the CEOs, Mervyn Toschak, who I had met with Alastair McKenzie my Ph.D. supervisor. He told me that both he and Alastair would be at the airport to meet me. Although they had found a rental unit for me, I was to stay with Jane and Alastair for a few days to find my feet.

In fact, I recovered quite quickly perhaps because of the sleep on the flight. Although Jane and Alastair had been in the US for over a month they had been here for Alastairs' postdoc and knew the system well. So I had breakfast with them and we set off in the Toyota for a look around the Stanford campus.

What a magnificent campus! The expansive grounds, the architecture, and the general ambience of the university were astounding. I had seen some pictures but nothing compared to reality. I was particularly impressed by the six bronzes by Rodin of 'The Burghers of Calais' in the main quadrangle.

I was to be part of this.

We drove to the Medical School and met with Mervyn. From there we walked for about ten minutes towards the business area where we came upon a low circular building which was to be my working home. Inside were workmen installing benches, lighting, equipment and the many facilities we had discussed in London some two months earlier. I was shown my office-to-be along with three others: one for an admin assistant, one for a general office and a fourth for who-knows-what.

The Pharma group had suggested the size of my group and Alastair and Mervyn were to help with staff selection. All positions were to be run through the Cell Biology group at the Medical School, along with my position of Research Assistant Professor.

We went for an early lunch at a nearby taco place, very relaxed and in good spirits. I had many questions about all aspects of the organization even though we had discussed many of these subjects earlier in London. Three months of thinking about the future will do that. Mervyn was patient with me and Alastair promised to explain other points. But I had several questions that neither could answer at that time, all dutifully noted in my longhand scribble.

After four hours I was beginning to show the effects of the previous day's travel and we finished for the day, promising to meet up again in two days. The next day Alastair drove me to my apartment, ten minutes from the campus: a mirror image of the one in London and also owned by the Pharma group. It was mine as long as I wanted it and rent free. I found out that it was worth about $3000 a month! Prices near the campus were about the same as central London.

I mentioned all this goodwill to Alastair later that evening. He replied that already our -- my - patents had made the group far more than I could imagine.

"If you can produce one patent every two years they will still owe you money," Alastair stated. "What's more, your area is unlimited. Whatever you want to work on, if they can't use it they will license it to someone who can, and still make money!"

"It's like being paid, well, to have a hobby" I thought.

It took longer than I thought to get the group up and running. We had

hired Dr Sharon Mitchell from the Cell Biology group as my research associate to run the day-to-day science questions: my number-one person. We immediately found we could work well together. She was married, I guess around fifty years old with two university aged children, not much younger than me. She suggested Mary Quigley as office manager and general factotum, from the same department. They worked so well together they could finish each other's sentences.

Those two hired the three lab assistants while I sat in on the interviews.

The work started off slowly. I had to be much more organized than I had been in the past. I also had to recognize that not only did I work much faster than most in the lab, but that I would change my experimental protocol as I could see something was not working. Sharon very gently pointed this out to me.

So for a long time I would do preliminary work at odd times, then write a detailed protocol for the three technicians to repeat, confirm and sometimes modify.

During this period I had monthly visits from Spokane. Fiona would fly either to San Jose or SFO: equally accessible from Palo Alto. She could leave the hospital at 4 pm and be with me by 8. So every second weekend either she visited me or I visited her: a very comfortable arrangement. She had a copy of my key and I had one of hers. I think there was a little envy of my position and perks but she was smart enough not to mention anything. And the enthusiasm for Stanford and the local amenities was obvious.

While I was waiting for my Morgan to be made and delivered I bought an old (1995) Acura Legend for exploring my surroundings and the coast. It had 140,000 miles on the clock but I was assured it was in good shape and the price was a steal. Fiona and I explored the near coastline extensively, from Pacifica to Santa Cruz. I guess my favourite turned out to be Half Moon Bay, and their Fish and Chips down by the wharf. But we also went up the 280 and across the Golden Gate to Napa and Sonoma. Wonderful weekends, lovely food and good company. What more could man ask for?

Of course it came tumbling down, almost a year after we arrived. It was for me yet another magical weekend. We had been up to Healdsberg in the Sonoma valley where they brew the tasty Pliny The Elder IPA. Yum. Fiona had a meeting the next morning so we headed back to SFO airport on Sunday with time to catch a seven o'clock plane. As we got close to San Bruno Fiona decided to drop the bomb.

"Petey, I don't know how to tell you this, but last night was our last night together. I've met a man, he's a widower, a bit older than me, and we are going to get married, soon." She bit her lip as she looked at me.

A flood of emotions hit me: I didn't know whether to be angry, sad, or jocular. I said nothing for a while then chose my words carefully.

"Well Fee, you always said this was a 'friends-with-benefits' arrangement, but I always hoped we could make a go of it. I suppose I got too involved even though you constantly reminded me not to."

"I wish you well and my congratulations on your nuptuals. He is a lucky man!" I would suck it up now and break some crockery later!

I dropped her at SFO and we had a hug, no kiss. She turned and walked into the terminal and I drove back to the flat. I felt like such a loser! I put her apartment key in the mail and she returned mine.

I buried myself in work. Good organization, a great team, and the results came in, first in bits then a gusher. I was up to my eyes in data but Sharon and Mary kept me sane. They must have noticed my change in demeanor: as they say, dead men look happier, but nobody mentioned it.

About two months later I got an email from the Morgan Car company. They had a withdrawal of a Plus-4 sale, a white version, would I be interested? Yes, if it conformed to my original specifications and they would paint it British Racing Green I replied. They agreed and I was to inherit half of the original deposit, the other half being used on the paint job after which it would be shipped, arrival about 14 weeks.

I was happy again, after a fashion.

The six-monthly chat with the Pharma Group came up and I needed a partner for the evening dinner. Of course I could have gone solo but I decided to ask one of the lab people if they would be interested. A nice meal, a bit of shop-talk, and a bit of dancing. For the first one I had Fiona with me and she was a great success. I decided to ask MaryLou. She was the most attractive of the three in a 'SoCal beach-babe' sort of way, slim, blonde, tanned, but as smart as a whip. The evening was a success and I drove MaryLou back to her shared apartment. She asked me in but I declined, for a variety of reasons.

Suddenly but over the next few weeks the atmosphere in the lab changed. At first I was unaware of the change but it turned out that MaryLou started to act like a boss in the lab because I had taken her out for the evening. Sharon came into my office one day and closed the door: she never normally did that!

"Peter, we have a problem. YOU have a problem!" She explained the situation and suggested a solution. MaryLou would be transferred back into the Cell Biology group with a new title but no raise. She would get the message and harmony would be re-established.

I thanked Sharon with some flowers and I thought I had learned a good lesson, that I was no good as a personnel manager and never to date someone from work!

A second patent was being prepared since my arrival at Stanford. The first patent was, to me, an obvious extension of my previous work, but the patent lawyers said it was sufficiently novel to warrant protection: who am I to argue? The second one involved the incorporation of unusual amino acids into a cyclosporin analog by a fungus. The analog had been successfully tested as a more efficient anti-rejection drug for organ transplantation in mice and rabbits.

I was writing two papers based on peripheral projects, and I had been asked to give a series of lectures to graduate students and hospital staff. Besides the support from the pharmaceutical group I had, with their agreement, applied for independent funding from the NIH to support more researchers in the group. I felt I could handle a slightly larger group with the facilities in the building, so work was going really well.

My Morgan was due to be delivered to specialty shop to have the engine installed. I had photos of the model in my office and I delighted in showing anyone interested my new acquisition.

So it was a surprise to get an email message from Lady Margaret asking me if she could stay with me for a few days before travelling on to Spokane at the end of the month. It sounded very much like the time she visited me in London. Of course I agreed.

"I heard that you and Fiona had split up. I am so sorry Peter, you deserve better," Em had said in an email.

"Sadly yes, but I am getting used to it!" I replied.

"I will try to lift your spirits when I come to visit" came her reply. Immediately my thoughts went into high gear.

Then the message came that my lovely car was ready. I could hardly wait. I had rented a covered garage for the Morgan, at least for a while, near to my apartment. The engineers collected me from the lab and took me to their factory, ISIS Imports, the official Morgan dealership for the USA. Of the 800+ cars built annually, about 80% are exported to the USA so on average 2-3 cars are released or bought each day. Mine was built for me and had a 2L, 165 hp 4-cylinder Ford engine installed: nothing too powerful but in a lightweight car it gave plenty of power, at least for me.

The deep green of the paint was beautiful. There were a few adjustments for my 6'2" body, a bodywork inspection and a look under the hood. Then there was some paperwork to complete, plus the cheque for the final instalment, and I was off. I carefully drove it to the garage and spent some time admiring and polishing it. I was working the next day so the Morgan would have to wait until the weekend for a proper drive, but I sent an email to Em telling her to bring a headscarf to use in my soft-top car.

Now that the MaryLou episode was over and forgotten, the lab began to hum again. We hired a new girl Alexandra and told her runner-up that there might be another position soon, so Patricia was waiting in the wings. I had heard from one of the reviewers that my NIH grant application had a high rating and was likely to be funded. In no time the 10 days leading up to Lady Margaret's visit had passed. I had arranged for 4 days' holiday, intending to show Em some of California.

The United flight from Heathrow to SFO was on time on Monday evening and I had parked the Legend in the airport carpark. I didn't trust the Morgan that close to half-ton trucks. Em saw me and waved, we hugged, kissed briefly and walked to the luggage carousel. Thirty minutes later we were on our way to the apartment.

Lady Margaret had changed her hair style to a short bob. It made her look younger than ever.

"I like the new look," I said.

"Yes, time for a change," she replied. "I've been doing a number of new things recently," holding out her hands with bright pink nails, and pointing to her toes.

"I hope you are going to take me out, and I wanted you to be proud of me," she said, coyly.

"Em, I am so glad you have come and I am delighted to see you. I have a full itinerary planned, though with lots of down-time built in. How well do you know California?" I asked knowing full well it was her first time.

"You beast, already you bait me!" she playfully punched me on the shoulder. "You know its my first time here and I am completely at your mercy."

We used the elevator to the third floor and my apartment was one of four on that floor. Her suitcase had wheels so it was large but easy to handle. Once inside she turned to me and threw her arms around my neck for a kiss, wet and sticky. My hands were around her waist, then her backside, then on her breasts. I could feel those nipples between my thumb and finger.

We broke for air.

"Got to use your bathroom" she said picking up her travel bag. I pointed down the corridor.

"How hungry are you?" I replied, knowing it was an 11h flight. "Did you manage to sleep at all?"

"In a minute ......" as she disappeared for 15 minutes; re-emerging with fresh makeup and a housecoat. I had brushed my teeth and moved her suitcase.

"Now, you, show me our bed!" Shades of her London visit before Elspeth's wedding - obviously not hungry for food.

Em shrugged off the housecoat to reveal a pink two-piece low-cut bra and panties. I quickly dropped my trousers and slipped off my shirt.

"Hurry Petey, I've been waiting sooooo long for this. No games tonight, just take me, darling."

So I did, many times. She was insatiable. I am twenty-nine and she must be thirty-eight yet we were behaving like a couple of teenagers in heat.

We stood rubbing our bodies together. I kissed her deeply and she responded, I released her bra and took her nipples between my teeth, one at a time, then I kissed down her body while I guided her on to the bed. I knelt between her legs and put her ankles on my shoulders, then pulled her legs up so her knees were on my shoulders and I had access to her pussy.

I held her backside up so I could spend time kissing, licking and spearing her pussy with my tongue. She started to writhe and moan and I kept up my attack on her soft lips, occasionally sucking on her clit until she came. For the first time I noticed some moisture leaking out as she came.

I let her body down and lay beside her. She snuggled up to me, her breasts against my chest, eyes closed, reaching for my cock.

"Mmmmm, so good" she mumbled, as she moved down to take me in her mouth.

"I've been practicing, hoping to have a chance at the real thing," she smiled, running her tongue around the mushroom head. Then she tried to deep-throat me but stopped after coughing.

"How like you that, sir," she said with one hand at the base and the other moving up and down. "Put it in me please, I need it sooo much!"

I reached for a condom but she took it from me and threw it on the floor. I entered her, slowly: it was like sliding into a warm wet fitted glove. We really did fit together so well. As I moved in and out, Em moved up and down against me, her hands on my backside pulling me in. Then her legs were around my back, holding me in place, while she came. I continued to move gently against her and I came as well, maybe ten or fifteen seconds later. I stayed inside her, pumping my come into her. She held me in place, bone against bone, until I slid down beside her.

"Stay in me Petey" she asked. I stayed until I began to slide out: so good. I pulled the sheet up and we slept for half an hour.

Her plane had arrived at 5 pm and it was still only 8.

"Let's shower then have something to eat," I suggested and we showered together, slowly.

"You must be a bit hungry and I've not had any dinner yet," I pointed out. "This kind of activity makes me hungry" I smiled.

And so the four days started out, and repeated, each day, morning and evening. During the day we drove north along the coast highway following the pacific in the Morgan. Covering between 50 and 150 miles each day. Lots of seafood, occasional steaks, Italian, sometimes fish and chips in a shoreline shack. We were lovers on holiday: Monterey Bay and Carmel, Santa Cruz, Pescadero, Half Moon Bay, over the Golden Gate and on to Napa and Sonoma. Yes, the same trip I took with Fiona, but this was different: I knew how this would finish!

Em was enchanted, and enchanting. She loved everything we did, taking pictures non-stop, and lots of selfies: sea lions, sea otters, humpback whales, crabs, and us. Who would see these pictures, I wondered. If only there were not the 18 years between us... if only she was not married.....

"Peter, this must be costing you a lot of money. Can I contribute? At least a little?" Em asked while we were eating lunch at Tra Vigne in St Helena. How much should I tell her?

"Em, I am doing really well here. I have enough money to buy an apartment or a house here, if I decide to stay. I didn't tell Fiona because I wanted her to want me for being me. It didn't work out. I love my work and apparently I am quite good at it. I paid cash for the car and I hardly spend anything. So I am fine and I am loving having you here, so don't think about it."

"Petey, you are so good to me, and so good for me. It's as though I have just come alive! To think all this was out here, just waiting for me, and I was pottering around The Manor, exercising the horses, chairing Mother's Union meetings or the Bristol Archives. I wait to hear from Mark, but he's so tied up at Winchester and at half term he usually goes up to London to see Humphrey. Sophie and I talk almost every day but she has Jeremy to look after."

"Well, Em, I'm so glad to came to visit and I'm happy you are having a good time. I certainly am, both your company and the associated social activity are so good for me too. I was sad for a while after Fiona but to give her her due, she did say she was looking for someone who could support her the way she wanted. She also implied that on several occasions: I just always hoped I could make her love me, for being me."

"Heck, Em, I'm only 28," I said cheerfully. "Plenty of time for me yet!"

"Yes, my darling, but tomorrow we have to head back to Palo Alto, so lets find this hotel and you can have me at least once before dinner and perhps a couple of times later, if you can manage it" she said, putting her hand on my crotch under the table.

"You know, Em, I rather fancy heading back now. We can be back at the apartment in a couple of hours. Then we will have the evening and all tomorrow until your flight. What do you think?"

"Mmmmm. Let's go," Em agreed.

So we headed back through Napa, bypassed Vallejo and hit the 680 all the way to San Jose. A nice quiet drive in the Morgan, missing the SF city traffic and as I expected home in 2h.

We showered and had a light supper at the Italian restaurant in the mall by Stanford. Em got me so worked up during the meal I could hardly wait to get her home. Feet under the table, hands on my thighs, air kisses as we ate spaghetti: she knew all the tricks.

"OK Petey" she said as we let ourselves in. "I've brought some toys with me and its 'visitor's choice': I want you to tie me up tonight and play with me. You have been all together too vanilla for the past three days. You can do it simple tomorrow but tonight I want some bondage. You know, like at The Manor."