I desperately needed to pee, even though I'd been twice already in the past hour. Someone once told me it's part of the body's fight or flight mechanism going back deep into our evolutionary past, it supposedly makes you lighter to run faster and makes you less of an attractive morsel for the T-Rex or Sabre Tooth Tiger to eat if you're soaked in piss.
I wasn't entirely convinced, not least because it wasn't a Sabre Tooth or a T-Rex I was about to meet, it was Professor Cole, head of the University's experimental communications department and I was a squeaky-clean post graduate research assistant looking for a job. Professor Cole was a daunting subject because he operates on such an elevated level. Nobel nominee, popular science TV presenter and head of the department I was hoping to get into.
I took the risk of being in the loo when the Professor's minion arrived to take me to the interview and walked briskly and with purpose to the ladies across the reception area. I hadn't been this nervous at the first three rounds of interviews and from what everyone had told me they were the hard part; this was just to get the final approval from the boss.
I sat on the cold pan, blessed relief streamed out of me as I pondered further. It was probably the finality of the decision that was making me nervous, mess this up and you're out. Win or lose. Hit or miss. Piss or get off the pot. My sense of humour was trying it's hardest to help with that last one.
I washed my hands and was back in the visitor's suite before anyone arrived so one element of panic was allayed, all I had to do now was actually meet, oh feckity feck It's him. He's so much bigger in real life than on the telly. Stop it I told myself. You're twenty-four years old, you've got a masters in electronic engineering, you graduated from one of the top universities in not just this country but the world. You. Got. This.
He held out a hand, I took it and tried to speak but a dry croak came out. I felt like my heart would explode, it must be hitting around two hundred beats per minute, easy. I tried again, croak.
He laughed, "Come with me Jessica, let's get you a cup of tea and see if we can't get that voice of yours working" His soft Cork accent was very soothing, but I was no less nervous as the great man dug in his pocket for change and pushed a couple of buttons on the vending machine.
"Here you go, white, no sugar. It's how I take me tea, so I always assume everyone else does as well." He held out a couple of sachets of sugar, "me assistant makes me carry sugar around for when I forget."
We sat and I tried to chat. To be fair I did manage to get some coherent words out and after half the unsweetened white tea I was able to talk normally. I told him about my dissertation on quantum entanglement and communications, of course he knew some of the lecturers at my university and confessed he'd spoken to them about me.
"They were quite complimentary, although one of them said something about being a bit of a party girl?"
Oh, feckity feck. He wanted me to explain. I was struck with another sudden urge to pee.
"Well, erm you see Professor Cole, we'd had our finals and we were all celebrating a bit and..."
I paused for a moment, what had he heard? Did I assume he'd heard the lot and confess all or did I just gloss over it? I closed my eyes for a moment and reminisced.
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It had been the end of year post finals blow out, three years on my BSc then another three on my masters, most of my friends had been on a similar pathway and the relief, obscene amounts of Prosecco and a particularly attractive Film Studies PhD student all led to me being caught with several others in the college boat house gardens.
I'd started snogging the student (embarrassingly I never knew his name) on a bench under some cherry trees beside the lawns. Another couple were picnicking on the grass and there were some more up the other end by the willows with a bottle or three of wine. As we got increasingly into it my blouse came unbuttoned and slipped off my arms, I have no idea how, his T shirt took a hike and was joined by my bra.
I had undone his trousers and hooked his cock out, all with my tongue down his throat and was massaging it to a healthy erection. I had a moment's clarity and looked around, gratified to see I was not the only one semi naked by then. The couple picnicking had moved onto dessert, he had his head between her thighs, her skirt shielding him from the world. Further up the gardens the couple by the willows were sitting with her on his lap and his trousers round his ankles.
I bent to Mr PhD's lap and took his cock in my mouth, relishing the feeling of wickedness at blowing a near stranger in what was virtually full view of the public. I wasn't usually the most enthusiastic giver of head, you try shoving a cucumber in your mouth and see how comfortable you find it, but the occasion and probably the booze gave me an added impetus and I worked him like a seasoned expert.
I slid my lips as far down the swollen shaft as I could, gagging slightly, then pulled right back to giggle and look into his eyes as I worked my tongue around the head. I playfully bit him, hard enough he knew he'd been bitten, and I was in charge, not so hard he was going to complain. I sucked him in deep again, pulling him horizontal so he could watch me slide his cock in and out of my mouth. I paused again, taking him out and gripping the hot meat between my 34Ds.
I tried to say something hot and sexy like, "I'm gonna make you cum all over my tits then I'm gonna suck you hard again and ride you like a stallion," but I'd got as far as "I'm gonna make you" when a loud whistle broke the moment and the New College Porter, and three security guards strode onto the grass.
My PhD student gave a sudden spasm, the shock of discovery had set him off and two jets of sticky cum squirted onto my tits. In fairness I'd intended to tell him to do it, but I didn't expect him to pull up his trousers, hand me a tissue and run away, pausing only to explain he was engaged, and he was sorry he didn't know what came over him.
I knelt on the cool grass, wiping away the splashes of sperm across my cleavage and searched frantically for my underwear. I gave an ironic laugh as I saw Mr. PhD man disappearing over the wall with my bra dangling behind him, somehow he'd ended up sitting on it and got it trapped in his trousers when he did them up." Good luck explaining that to your fiancΓ©e, you worm," I thought as I buttoned my shirt up before facing the music with the porter.
Fortunately for me I was no longer officially a member of the college so there was little they could sanction me with, but I did have an embarrassing interview with my head of department and the student welfare officer.
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I snapped back.
"Only when the work was finished Professor Cole, only when the work was finished."
There was a smirk on his lips, "That's alright then, and from what I understand you were a model student up until your finals were complete. I think you'll be fine, come along tomorrow at 9 and we'll get you processed. "
The first day was tied up with me getting ID cards, security passes and general site orientation and signing half the world's supply of NDAs and the Official Secrets act, then I was into a three-week program to familiarise me with the program and to get my skills up to speed, and there was a significant amount of catching up to do. I may be fresh off the production line, but I was now in the real world, and we were writing the book on what we were doing.
I say that to sound cool, in fact I was number crunching and setting things up and was heavily supervised at all times.
Without breaching the Official Secrets Act all I can say is we were looking to develop a major leap ahead in data transmission speed and bandwidth, we were utilising Quantum entanglement theory coupled with plasma fusion reactions to generate a superfast data tunnel capable of transmitting hundreds of petabytes in a fraction of a second (a petabyte is 1000 terabytes, so hundreds of them is a lot).
The potential for communications, medicine and computing were unimaginably vast, plus we had a healthy contribution to our budget from the Ministry of Defence so other potential advances were probably less peaceful. My colleague Freddy told me it was from an unregulated, untraceable account in Whitehall, mind you he also told me Susan Boyle was his favourite singer, so I was dubious about his judgement.
The disappointing thing was that due to the super-secret nature of what we were doing I couldn't confide in anyone outside of work and it was exciting work to be involved with. My boyfriend was no help either, to be brutal he wouldn't have been up to understanding it even if I could talk about my new job.