"Doctor, look," exclaimed my assistant David as he backed away from the electron microscope to make room for me. "I think the metagenic virus has penetrated the cell wall. I think this time it might work."
I quickly took his place at the eyepiece and watched the granular display of cellular activity. The fibers of the newly injected protovirus did in fact seem to be working their way through the cell walls.
I shut down the equipment and told David we would shut the equipment down and resume first thing Monday morning. It had been a long week and after months of no progress this seemed to be the first sign of advancement.
It had long been our theory that viral study can lead to viral agents that can alter human DNA to help eliminate genetic defects in the hu8man genome. Men are genetically more prone to certain inconsistencies and women have other weaknesses. Our theory was that if the two are combined and the genetic strengths are enhanced and the deficiencies eliminated, the human population could be strengthened to the point that many genetic conditions could be eliminated.
People could be stronger, smarter, more empathetic, live longer and have a better quality of life.
It appeared we had created a viral agent that was at least the first step in that chain.
I set the high speed record in the electron microscope and David and I checked out for the weekend.
I went home to my husband of 22 years and my 19 year old college freshman son and my 18 year old high school senior daughter. We lived in a fairly affluent neighborhood and our life was fairly comfortable.
I walked in the house and nobody was home yet, so it fell to me to make dinner, but I wasn't feeling well. Ever since I had left work I had been feeling tired with a sort of general malaise afflicting my entire body.
So, rather than cook, I called a local Mexican restaurant that did delivery and ordered everybody's favorite and went upstairs to run a hot bath and get into my pajamas.
I took a bath bomb in with me, and ran water as hot as I could stand filling the tub with bubbles and steam. I hung my robe on the hook beside the tub and dropped my clothes to the floor, dipping my toes and allowing them to get accustomed to the temperature. I entered slowly, acclimating to the temperature as I did until I was finally lying in the tub buried in the hot water, steam and bubbles.
The bath bomb contained not only a fragrance and a soap, but a skin oil as well and the soft feeling of the oil coated me as I slid in and immediately began to relax me.
I lay there for a few moments, allowing the bliss to flow over me and I felt immensely better. I began to rub my body a loofah and found myself concentrating on my erogenous zones. I was 40 years old and not unattractive. I had a thin body, which came from years of track and distance conditioning as a younger girl, which I kept up with. I was also blessed by athletic parents so there were good genetics involved as well. I had long, layered blonde hair down to about the bottom of my shoulder blades.
Some said, my daughter especially, that my hairstyle was a bit dated, recalling the 90's but I didn't care. It was a style I liked, I was comfortable with and it accentuated my large breasts when it hung down over them.
My hands were slipping lightly over my entire body, teasing all the right spots. I wasn't masturbating. Moreso, exciting myself. My husband and I had not had sex in quite a while. We had both been so busy it had been one of the things that had fallen by the wayside. We had sworn never to neglect time with our children so time alone together was the thing that suffered.
I thought of my husband as I touched myself. He was a tall Scandinavian man. He stood 6 foot three inches tall and also had blonde hair, which he wore long, sometimes back in a ponytail, but most times just hanging loosely at his shoulders. He had a striking profile with a chiseled chin and nose with a perfect complexion.
My son was his fathers son. He was also tall and very Scandinavian in appearance, being an almost identical copy of his father only younger. He wore his hair, however, cut short in almost military style with the front gelled in an upswept wall.
My daughter was taller than me at 6 feet tall, she had long blonde hair, perfect in body and hanging to the top of her waist. She could have easily been a flower child from the 60's.
We were a walking, talking advertisement for the nuclear family that many said had begun to disappear.
My husband worked in the corporate world,an accountant for a major biomed firm and I was a research assistant in a biomed research firm. We had met right out of college at a corporate christmas party. It had been lust at first sight which quickly developed into love, marriage, careers, kids and all the things the good life promises.
We had really had no problems up until that point. Life had gotten better as the years went by. Our children were healthy. They were doing well in school. Our careers had progressed nicely. He was the head of his department, and although his work was a bit dry, he was good at it and liked the people he worked with. I had gotten a job as a research assistant while I was in college and had gone from a non paid undergrad assistant to assistant to director of special projects. I was taking a year off from my education. I had been working on a doctorate but our project and our children had taken up a lot of our time, so I needed more time. Once our children were in college, I would finish my doctorate.
My thoughts drifted to life before our children, just the two of us with so little time to ourselves that every minute of our time alone was spent fucking in every way imaginable. We were so into each other and I loved touching him. I loved exploring every part of his body. I loved touching his chest, licking his nipples and working my way to his heavy balls, licking them and sucking them. I loved taking his wonderful cock deep in my pussy and my ass. He would worship every part of me with his tongue and his cock and sex was passionate and wonderful. Experimental and abundant.
But over the years, responsibility had taken a lot of that away. We were happy, successful if not a little bored.
My mind was focused on his cock and the feelings I was generating touching myself when my son knocked on the bathroom door.
"Hey mom" he said bursting in through the unlocked door. "Is there anything for dinner? I have to run soon. We're going to a Rush cover band concert over in Philly." His eyes caught me as I jerked away from my exploration. "Caught you again, huh?" He teased me.
"It was a draining day, but we think we might have made some progress in one of our experiments." I said.
Nudity had never been an issue in our home. It was normal and there was very little that embarrassed any of us, although I must admit that the longer I went without sexual fulfillment the more I noticed how attractive both my son and daughter were. And standing there in tight jeans and t-shirt, towering over me in the tub, I couldn't help but notice the bulge in his pants.
That was taking it too far, but it did look like it was growing. I smiled at the thought.
"I ordered Mexican from the Taqueria. Should be here in half an hour. Why don't you watch out for it?" I asked.
"Sure Mom." he leaned down and kissed me on the forehead and bounded out of the room.
I lay in the hot water touching myself thinking about how big his cock must be now when it was erect.
I got out of the tub and began to dry myself. I was hornier than I thought because just the feeling of the soft towel brushing against me sent a tingling through my body. My perky tits, which normally had erect nipples, were positively statuesque by the time I finished drying myself.
I put on my robe and retired to my bed where I could touch myself in solitude while I thought about my son's cock.
What was wrong with me? That had never been a thing before. I admired his beauty. I had seen him nude, going from the pool into his room and things like that, but had never had lustful thoughts toward him.
