The way Lyra and I met was strange. I've never heard anyone with a more unusual story, but you can't make this shit up. (Actually, you can.)
My name is Jonathan, Jon for short. I recently graduated from college and I'm enrolled in a program to advance my goal to have a career in Public Safety. Public Safety awareness has become enhanced by the almost daily headlines of the tensions between world powers and the development of nuclear weapons and intercontinental missiles by unstable governments. Part of the curriculum is training in the management and operation of public shelters. The instructors believe that before you can properly manage a public shelter you should understand, and experience, the feelings and emotions of the people forced to use them in an emergency.
So, on a quiet Thursday afternoon, thirty of us were herded into a space large enough for twelve, told to lie down to reduce our profiles from any possible mayhem and to squeeze tightly together to make room for everyone. We had been told the loss of personal space would be uncomfortable but necessary for us to experience since we had to be sympathetic with the strangers we would have to manage in an actual emergency.
I ended up on my side, spooned against the back of a smaller woman also on her side. Before the instructors had been able to close the shelter door, we had been forced closer together several times. Lyra, that was the name she whispered to me, suggested I move my left arm under her neck instead of having it pinned against the floor between us and to put the other one over her body to make more room. I got my left arm unpinned and under her neck and when I raised my right arm over her, she took it and held it tightly against her body, allowing us to get even closer together.
Except for the breathing of the thirty bodies in the small space, there was no sound until I sensed a slight humming, or vibration. I spent some time trying to understand the source of the "sound." I stole a couple of peaks at my fellow refugees and determined no one else seemed to hear or be bothered by the vibration I was feeling. I was sure it was a local phenomenon, probably from Lyra. It was confirmed when Lyra moved slightly and placed my hand on her smallish, but firm, breast. The "sound" that I could neither hear, nor feel, increased significantly.
Later, when our captors had released us from our prison, Lyra approached me and asked if I would like to have a light supper with her. Curious about her, and the mystical vibrations, I gladly accepted.
Over supper in a nearby vegetarian café, Lyra and I talked lightly about our experiences with the training. Lyra asked if I had been uncomfortable during the shelter drill. I explained that I was not uncomfortable but more uneasy crunched up behind her. I had no way of knowing how she would handle the obvious sexual nature of our contact. I explained I was pleasantly surprised when she eased my discomfort by placing my hand on her breast.
Lyra looked at me with a sly smile. "It seemed the least I could do since you seemed to be trying to get as close as the instructors wanted but still leave some space so as not to offend me."
"Thanks for that. You're right. I didn't quite know how to handle it. You definitely made it easier and more pleasant. However, I'm still puzzled by the vibrations I sensed while we were together."
"Oh my God! You felt them too? I get them whenever I'm touched by a man. I thought I was the only one who sensed them."
"I'm glad I'm not the only one," I responded. "I couldn't figure out what it was or where it was coming from. I kinda felt it without actually feeling anything and I kinda heard it without actually hearing anything. I knew you were somehow involved when you moved my hand."
"They are very comfortable and soothing once you get used to them," she said. "You're the only man who's mentioned them to me. Up to now, I wondered if anyone else felt them."
"You're right. They seemed to make everything alright while we were pressed together."
"Yeah, but I still can't figure out where they come from. They're very mysterious."
"Maybe even supernatural," I offered.
"Jon, you're a nice guy and I sense you're curious too. Would you be willing to experiment with me about these vibrations?"
"I'm inclined to say yes, but are you sure? I think the experiments will lead to a lot of physical contact up to and including sex. Are you really OK with that?"
"I was my idea. I made the offer, and yes, I'm fully aware of the ramifications and even look forward to them."
"OK. I'm in. When would you like to experiment?"
"How about now, tonight? That is, if you don't have other plans."
"Lead on darlin'. I'm in your hands for a long as it takes."
I paid our tab and Lyra led me outside where she began to look for a cab.
"Lyra, I have a car. Just tell me where to go."
Ten minutes later we were parked outside a relatively new, six story condominium building. Lyra led me through a shinning foyer to the single elevator and pressed the button for the sixth floor. The top floor was smaller than the others and had a single apartment. Inside was an immaculate, spacious two-bedroom suite with floor to ceiling glass on the back wall with a view all the way to the river and access to what appeared to be a rooftop patio on three sides. The apartment was furnished in a modern style popular in the 1970's, with a kitchen, dining area and a large common room with a sixteen-foot ceiling and clearstory windows. Everything was neat and nothing seemed excessive. Lyra appeared to have everything she needed and nothing she didn't.
"Nice," I couldn't help myself saying.
"Thank you. Let me show you the rest of the place."
She led me to a short hallway, past a small powder room, and into a bedroom. The room was huge with a king sized bed with a long chest at the foot, both men's and women's dressers, a love seat sized sofa and a table with a mirror over it. A rather large flat screen TV hung on the wall parallel to the foot of the bed and a rather large audio system was on a bench below it. Nothing was out of place and nothing was visible that shouldn't be.
Adjacent to the bedroom was the largest bathroom I'd ever seen with an over large soaking tub large enough for two and a glass shower enclosure with two shower heads and room for at least four. A counter with two sinks and more cabinets than my kitchen completed the furnishings. At the far end was a door that I assumed led to a walk in closet.
Lyra told me there was another bedroom that she used as a library and home office but she didn't show it to me.
She led me back to the bedroom and said, "Well, here we are."
"Don't you think we should talk a little? Maybe formulate a plan?"
"Actually, I think it's pretty basic. In the interest of adhering to the scientific method, we need to establish a baseline and then systematically change the parameters and observe the results."
"OK. What is the baseline and how do we get it?"
"The baseline is where we were this afternoon. We should get back into that position and carefully catalogue that experience."
"You mean write it down?"
"I don't think that's necessary. What we experienced was pretty ethereal. I think we might spend more time trying to find the right words to describe it than documenting. I think we each have to focus on and remember what we feel and compare it to later experiments. We might also share some thoughts on what we feel to see if the experiences are similar."
Lyra then began to fold down the covers on the bed. "Give me a hand here?" she asked.
I went to the other side of the bed and mirrored her actions until we had the covers neatly folded on the foot of the bed. We lifted the folded covers onto the chest.
Lyra kicked off her shoes and climbed into the center of the bed. "Don't just stand there. Get up her with me."
I kicked off my shoes and climbed next to her. She rolled on her side. I moved up behind her, slid my left arm under her neck and spooned her with my knees under her backside. Lyra gripped my right arm and pulled it over her body. "Now just be quiet," she said, "and listen. Clear your mind of any other thoughts. Don't analyze, just record. We'll come back later and share."
After a few minutes, Lyra took my hand and placed it on her breast again. We lay together like that for what seemed like five or six minutes, but I can't be sure as I was someplace else, enjoying the sounds and feelings from the afternoon again.
Eventually, Lyra moved away from me and rolled up on her side with her head supported on her right hand. "Well, did you get a baseline?" she asked.
"I think so. It was exactly the same as this afternoon. There was a soft humming. I couldn't tell if I was hearing it or feeling it."
"Good. Was it the same the entire time?"
"No. It changed when you put my hand on your breast."