Mating Habits Ch 01

*****

We had been fantasizing about each other. A lot, over the years. That is the only reasonable explanation I've ever come up with. How else would they have known to bring us together?

*****

I was with her in a room so brilliantly sterile white that it would be blinding if it weren't somehow a soft light. I could barely make out the corners of the room. It was maybe twenty feet across either way, but there wasn't any discernable ceiling--the corners quickly faded away into soft, luminous whiteness. Nothing else in the room. Just me and Sharon, both naked.

But the room was comfortable enough. It was almost warm and humid enough to make you sweat, but not enough to be uncomfortable. The floors and walls seemed firm, but not hard. Almost intangible to the touch. There was a porcelain-white font of water in the corner to my left, and a bowl-like depression in the opposite corner. A drinking fountain and a lavatory? Neither seemed to have a spigot or drain, so it was hard to be sure.

Sharon sat curled in the opposite corner of the room, trying not to expose herself. She had apparently given up on asking into the air, "What do you want with me?", or the occasional simple "Hello?"

I had given up of believing that this was just some strange, incredibly lucid dream. Granted, the last thing I remembered was drifting off to sleep. I had come home late from work, and my folks were already in bed. My pre-sleep thoughts had, for some reason, drifted to her. The next thing I knew, here I was.

I hadn't actually seen Sharon for a very long time. We hadn't gone to the same high school, and I didn't even know what college she was planning on going to. For what little I could see, she still looked very much like I remembered--a lithe but healthy build, slightly tan skin tone, brilliant green eyes, and long, dark hair, wavy almost to the point of being curly. She had always had such a beautiful face. Full lips, what you might call "pouty."

I remembered her from all the way back in elementary school. Puppy love. I was too shy and awkward back then to realize it. Toward the beginning, she would sometimes gather her friends and they would follow me around, teasing me, just to see how I would react. But they were smiling the whole time. Later on, she would ask to borrow my crayons. And if someone else volunteered theirs, she refused--she only wanted mine. If only I had taken the hint.

The years had gone by into middle school, and my shyness and awkwardness continued. I never could summon up the nerve to ask her to dance at one of the school dances, or really to talk to her in any meaningful way (or any other girl, for that matter). But she had always been at the center of my very most intense adolescent fantasies.

But this situation was quite different. Wherever we were, whatever this was...maybe I'd never be leaving this place. What was really at risk?

"Sharon?"

She raised her head slightly at the sound of her name. Then she met and held my gaze with haunted eyes, staring as if seeing me for the first time. There was a long pause.

"Jason, what is going on? What are we doing here? Do you know anything about this?"

She spoke in a hushed tone, but with a quiver in her soft voice.

I just shook my head, searching for words. What could I say about all of this?

"Did you see what happened?" she asked, looked about as if asking out loud might reveal something.

I shook my head. "I was asleep, I think."

"Me too."

*****

That was the extent of our first conversation. I couldn't really think of anything more to say, at least not of any importance.

The ambient white light had given no indication of the passage of time or even the time of day. Eventually it came to the point where I really had to take a leak.

Out of the corner of my eye, I had seen Sharon glance toward that corner with the shallow, bowl-like depression as well. How long had we been here? Hours? A day or more?

This was ridiculous—the situation was not going to change. I stood up and walked over to the bowl. I could see Sharon watching out of the corner of her eye as I did.

Fortunately, I wasn't one to suffer from 'stage fright.' I exhaled deeply as I emptied my bladder. At last.

There was no lever to 'flush.' Nor was there even a drain evident.

But when I turned around to return to my corner I heard a momentary hum from the bowl behind me, like when you turn on an old TV set. I turned around again, and the bowl was empty. But that was only the beginning of the oddities of this place.

After some span of time, the monotony of the place began to give way errant thoughts. How could I make any plans when I didn't know where I was, or even what I was in? How much could I second-guess what I had done to get myself in this situation, when all I had done was to fall asleep?

I would have liked to get a better look at Sharon—after all, how often were you alone in a room with a beautiful girl. But I didn't want to get caught staring, so I tried to keep my eyes averted as best I could. I didn't even do more than glance when she scuttled over to the bowl, bent over with her arms crossed over her chest, as if she were coming out of a cold shower.

Time passed, and random thoughts began gave way to daydreaming.

My mind had wandered to the woods behind my parents' house. A low mat of weeds under a high canopy of box elder, birch, and oak trees. Rays of light breaking through. The tiny brook running through that part of the woods. I could hear the brook...

I really could hear the brook. I blinked a couple of times—everything I saw, I was actually seeing and hearing.

My realization didn't change it in any way, but what caught my eye right away was that the image bled away into pink carpet toward the halfway mark of the room. Sharon was still curled up in the corner, but it was the corner of a bedroom. All in various hues of pink except for the dresser and the brass bed posts holding up a lacy bed canopy. There was even an assortment of stuffed animals on the bed.

In excitement, I began snatching at the weeds on the forest floor. And just as quickly, I realized that it was only imagery. Instead of plants and earth, all I felt was the insubstantial firmness of my corner of the room.

I noticed Sharon smiling as she looked about the bedroom around her. Then she noticed my half of the room, and her smile began to fade. She got to her knees and made a scooping motion toward the stuffed animals on the bed, but her arms passed through the imagery.

It was at that point that I really noticed how well she had matured. Smooth curves. A long, hourglass shape. Her wavy black hair tumbled over her shoulders onto her shapely breasts—not too large, not too small, firm enough with youth to stand out nicely, with perfectly round half-dollar sized areolas. Her hips dipped in slightly from both sides on the front, just enough to emphasize the slight round of her abdomen, and the perfect triangle of thin black hair which all came together at the short line of her labia.

I felt the tiny shock at the tip of my penis as it began to elongate, and at the same time I felt my heart begin to thud and a flush of warmth over my face and head. What was I doing? I drew in my legs against my chest to cover up what was happening.

She spared me—snapped me out of it, as she crouched back down and covered her face, sobbing.

I wasn't sure what to do. I wanted to go to her. Reach out. But what would she think? I waited, and watched her for many moments as sympathy edged out desire. And then, when it seemed safe, I got up and began to walk over to her.

She looked up as I did. The distress on her face could have been a mixture of anxiety and sadness. I wasn't sure. But at least she had stopped crying. Her gaze did flicker down past my waist as I approached. If size really mattered, this was perfect timing, with me having just been partially erec—damn it! What was I thinking? We had been kidnapped, or abducted, or whatever, and here I was thinking about...well, I needed to not think about it.

I sat down beside her with my back to the wall and my legs drawn up. I thought about putting my arm around her shoulder, but settled for just gently laying my hand on her shoulder. I half expected her to jerk away from my touch, but instead her face seemed to relax a bit as she looked absently at my hand.

"Are you all right?" I asked.

She nodded slowly. "I was just hoping. For a moment."

I let my hand fall from her shoulder, but sat close enough beside her that I could feel her body heat on my right shoulder. I gestured toward the surroundings, "Your room, I'm guessing?"

She nodded again, then we sat in silence for a while. She was looking over at my side of the room with her brilliant green eyes squinted in a quizzical fashion. She tilted her head a bit as she said, "Where's that?"

"That's the woods out behind my house." It wasn't really my house, per se. But 'my parent's house' sounded too juvenile for some reason. "Whenever I ran away from home, that's always where I went."

"How long did that last?"

"Never more than a few hours. But it always felt like I had escaped, at least for a little while."

Looking more closely at the room, I noticed that the lavatory bowl and the font of water were still there, but they were camouflaged in chameleon fashion by the smear of colors where our two worlds came together. I also noticed that a small assortment of foods were arrayed around the base of the water font—bananas, pears, strawberries, carrots, peanuts and other nuts—all easy-to-eat stuff.

By this time I was hungry, so I went over and picked out a couple of things. I offered to bring Sharon something as well. She agreed, and I brought her a banana to start with. I watched her from the side as she stared off straight ahead with a contemplative look, slowly eating the banana. I had to look away. I needed to think about something else.

"Do you remember when we were little?" I asked. "Following me around with...who was it...Lisa and Sue and those others?"

Her lips pursed in a bit of a smile for the first time. "Yes," she said tentatively, expecting a follow-up question.

"You threw wood chips at me once. What was up with that?" I said in a teasing tone.

"I...We had a bit of a crush on you. Sometimes we do funny things when we like a guy," she said with a smirk.

That was hopeful. Maybe the 'had' would carry over into a 'have'. No. What was I thinking? Why did that matter right now?

We talked about a few more things that we both remembered from grade school. Compared stories. It was a nice distraction. But eventually she began to yawn, and of course it was catchy. I finally became aware that the bright ambient light had been very gradually subsiding.

"Guess it's time for bed," I said, stifling another yawn.

"Right." She gave me a sidelong glance. A little uncomfortable. She probably didn't want me sleeping in her 'bedroom'.

I went back over to the opposite corner, and curled up on my side in the woods. The floor was not uncomfortable in any way—it didn't feel like I was laying on a stiff board or anything.

I thought about what was going on for a while, and drifted into sleep and then out. When I stirred, I awoke in my bedroom, as I might expect. Except it wasn't my bedroom. In the grayish-blue twilight, I could see my bedroom fade away into hers, and I could make out the vague shape of the water font and the bowl. It was a comfortable setting, and so I drifted back off to sleep.

*****

The next day or so went similar to the first. My 'room' stayed as it was. I experimented by envisioning other places, but it seemed that whatever made the changes didn't work off conscious thought.

There was always food available, regardless of what we ate, although I could never say when or how it became available.

During the next day, I didn't go over to Sharon's side. I was hoping she would take the initiative. Sort of give me a sign—reciprocate from yesterday. Plus, the nudity, isolation, and my arousal from yesterday was playing havoc with me.

I lounged on by front for the majority of the day to stifle my frequent erections. She followed suit, stretched out with her arms tucked in against her sides. To help keep from cramping up, she said.

The day seemed an eternity. If I started a conversation, I had an excuse to look at her. We talked about a few things—movies we had seen recently, novels we had read. I even started a few "What's your favorite" discussions, and we ranged from food to musicians to movies. We both complained about feeling kind of itchy and gross from not having had a shower.

I gazed through mostly closed lids at the curve of her perfectly-sized ass. My nuts were almost numb—humming and tingling with fullness. But what could I do? I sure wasn't going to jack off right in front of her! And I could never really tell for sure when she was sleeping.

The day finally faded into night, and fitful sleep. I felt comfortable enough in the dimness to roll onto my side, with my back to her, and let penis engorge freely—that was a little consolation at least.

*****

The next morning, I woke to find her up in her corner, eating some fruit.

I decided that today was going to be different. I absently gathered a bunch of food, and walked over to her corner, sitting down beside her like I had before. I could draw in my legs to hide my arousal if I needed to.

She glanced at me and gave a fleeting smile as she said, "Good morning."

"Good morning. I thought it would be easier to talk this way."

Sharon nodded and bit into a pear, sucking at it as she drew her lips away. I shuddered involuntarily and popped a mouthful of peanuts into my mouth. Already I felt a burst of excitement in my chest, and I needed to draw in my legs.

She finished up on the pair and then licked her fingers, "Why do you suppose they picked us?"

"They?"

"Yeah. Whoever has us here. They must have picked us for some reason. Is it just that we know each other?"

"I'm don't know. I had wondered that as well."

"I wonder how they're watching us?" She looked around.

"You think they're watching us?" I looked around as well. "There's no windows or anything."

"Maybe they don't need that. They can make things just appear. And disappear." She gestured toward the font and the bowl.

"That's true, but..."

"Why else would they have us here like this? They want to see what we'll do."

I pondered that possibility for a while. Normally, it might make me nervous, but for some reason it just excited me. Behind the shield of my right leg, my penis began to rise in time with my heart beat.

"You know what?" she said. "I think we should do everything we can to not give them what they want."

"How do we know what they want?" This was beginning to sound disconcerting for some reason.

"We don't. So if we think of anything they might want from us--I think we should agree to not do it," she said firmly.

My hope sank. "Well, hopefully it's not talking that they're interested in. This could become a long stay."

She didn't reply at all. She merely rested her head in the corner of the wall and closed her eyes, as if in deep thought.

In spite of the let down, it took a while for my libido to subside. She remained quiet with her eyes closed, and I began to wonder if she had fallen asleep.

Maybe it was the stress of our situation, or the sedentary nature of it, but I actually began to get sleepy as well. I closed my eyes for a moment and leaned back my head.

*****

I awoke to the brilliant soft white light, like when I had first arrived. I could tell that I was lying on my back, on the intangible substance. Out of habit, I tried to reach up to rub my eyes, but my arm was somehow restrained. I tried my other arm and my legs. They we also restrained by more intangible firmness, just above the elbows and knees and at the wrists. It didn't hurt at all, and I was able to raise my head enough to look. I couldn't see anything holding my limbs down. I struggled a little bit more as panic began to build. Maybe they were going to torture me. Or experiment on me.

I heard a soft hiss. Then I felt a warm, tingling, almost chafing sensation on both of feet, which began to work its way up my feet and past my ankles. It also began on the top of my head at the same time, working its way down, coming in from all around me at once. It felt something like a strong spray of water, and it felt strangely clean where it passed by. I blinked as the sensation moved past my eyes, and then opened them and looked down. A steamy mist was billowing away from the area of contact. But the mist wasn't scalding--it was comfortably warm.

The mists converged toward my waist, and in spite of myself, when the spray passed over the head of my penis, I felt the spark of excitement at the tip, and it began to elongate. It didn't take much at this point.

Suddenly the mists stopped, and the white light went black. Startled, I looked down, and realized that I could still see myself plainly. Then whatever I was laying on rotated upward, moving me into a standing position, although I didn't get the sensation that I was falling off whatever I was laying on, or even pulling at the restraints.

Then I saw Sharon. She was similarly upright, highlighted against the black in an oval field of soft white, not even ten feet away. I could tell by the way her feet pointed slightly downward that she was being held in the same fashion as I was. I feasted my eyes on her perfect frame again, and any fear I had began to be supplanted by the mind-numbing energy of desire.

Her eyes looked wild with bewilderment. Even in her standing position, her breasts were firm and upright, and her perfect skin seemed to gleam. I heard her take a short, sharp intake of breath. I followed her eyes down past her waist to her perfect V --her legs, not of their own volition, began to slowly spread apart. I felt my heart thud, and my penis rapidly expanded, pulsing with heat. She looked upward, closing her eyes, and began taking short, quick breaths. As her legs parted, knees bent, her labia begin to blossom apart slightly.

I turned my head away and closed my eyes tight, but her image was firmly burned into my mind. My heart felt like it would burst through my chest. I could feel the strain on the base of my penis, where it met my body--indicating the very most severe of erections.

Then I felt my ear against her warm body, between her breasts, and she gave a short gasp. Our bodies were pressed gently against one another, mine slightly lower than hers. Then I began to be moved upward.

The tip of my glans encountered a warm, slick sensation. "I...I'm sorry," I stammered, breathlessly. "I can't help it."

"I know," she breathed in a high-pitched voice.

I looked up at her, and she returned my gaze, her eyes dark with wanton excitement, her face flushed. I wouldn't arch my back to pull away now even if I could. I was being moved slowly back and forth, the head of my swollen penis parting her slick labia. I could feel where the hollow was. Dipping down. Again and again. Her inner thighs were encompassing my hips. The hollow...

She was suddenly moved down, and my world burst into pure ecstasy. The firm ring of the entrance of her vagina slid down my rod, her engorged labia caressing ahead of it. She stifled a small groan as the tip of my cock brushed her cervix. I could feel her heart pounding in her chest and her short gasps of breath.

I was moved up an down in her slowly, my abdomen clenching in involuntary thrusts, the ring of her tunnel giving way to the silky slickness beyond, over and over. I felt the area behind my sack and the muscle along the bottom of my rod begin to tense with waves of pleasure.

I pulled back too far as absolute pleasure began pulsing through me, calling out as I gave one last thrust, my penis sliding up along her belly, my abdomen clenching, the base of my rod clenching rhythmically, once, twice, cream streaming through my rod and ejecting in audible spurts up her body, onto her chin, running down her breasts.