“Hello.”

“Hey this is Dylan, we met in the coffee shop this morning.”

“Oh, right hey... Dylan.” Judging by the tone of her voice she had no idea who I was.

“I said I could make you taller,” I added, reluctantly preparing myself to explain why that was completely impossible.

“Oh, its you! I remember you! Yeah, I thought what you said was really interesting so I did some research.” Well, I thought, the proverbial jig is up. Then she surprised me and said, “I found some really interesting white papers on the topic, I’m sending them over to you right now.”

“Oh,” I said numbly. “That’s great.”

“That isn’t even the best part. Apparently there was a big study done a couple years back where they had some success. I’m sending you the project details.”

I was having a hard time believing what I was hearing. Research like she was talking about stopped slipping into the ‘public domain’ over a decade ago. Nowadays the Big Five closely guarded their secrets and the few indie companies left were no different. “I’m not going to get arrested for reading this I am?” I said warily.

“No,” she laughed. “Of course not. This is completely on the level. In fact there is an NDA in there you’ll need to sign.” 

My phone buzzed and prompted me to accept a file transfer. “Just a sec,” I said. The files downloaded instantly when I hit accept. 

I started skimming through the material and it quickly became clear there was some serious bio-engineering muscle behind the project. I recognized a couple of famous researcher names but more important was the company backing the study. Fempire Unlimited, a renowned genetics lab with a penchant for female empowerment which also happened to be one of the largest sub corporations of GeneTech Global. The GeneTech Global. Big five documents did not simply get handed to students. 

“You’re serious.” I replied, still struggling to understand the situation. ”How did you get this?”

The line was silent for a moment before she said, “I know people.” 

“Come on. You’re seriously not going to tell me how you got this?”

“If you aren’t interested just delete it.”

“No-no-no,” I said. It was hard to believe what I had just been handed. This was top-level research that I wouldn’t have dreamed of seeing for at least another five to ten years. 

“Sign the NDA and send it back as soon as possible so I can send you the rest.”

“The rest?” I said, dumbfounded.

“Yeah I only sent you the project details, the full analysis is over eight thousand pages.”

“Wow.”

“Should I take that to mean you’re signing?”

“Yeah. Umm, I’ll need to read it over first.”

“The NDA? It’s standard fare, just don’t tell anyone anything about it and you’ll be fine.”

“Yeah but, I should probably at least skim through it.”

“Sure, whatever you want Dylan,” she said casually. “I’m throwing a little party at my place tonight if you want to come by.”

“Really?” I said, sounding way too eager. So much for playing it cool. 

“Yeah it’ll be fun. We can discuss the research too if you want.”

I had to run a quick mental tally. Hot girl? Check. Party? Check. Opportunity to show off my scientific skills? Check. There was only one question left to ask.

“Do you have booze?”

“Of course.” High probability for inebriation, check. 

“Yeah, I’ll be there.”

“Great, when should I expect you?”

“An hour?” I said uncertainly.

“Sounds good, but you better read fast.”

“Yeah,” I said, gathering my confidence. “No problem, I’ll give it a quick once over and then we can look over the main research together at your place.” 

“Sounds wonderful.”

“Yeah,” I agreed, it did.

We exchanged pleasantries and ended the call. I immediately began flipping through the NDA. It only took a few moments to identify a fault with my plan: it was forty seven pages long. “Standard fare, my ass.” I grumbled, looking through it as quickly as possible. There was enough legal jargon and technobabble in there to constipate a team of paralegals.

Thirty five minutes later I hadn’t even started getting ready. There was no way I was going to finish reading this. I had only understood maybe half of what I’d already read. Why did the big corps have to make their contracts so damned complicated? With less than twenty minutes left I gave up, impulsively signed on the dotted line, and sent it back. 

It was just an NDA anyway, I thought. What was the worst thing that could happen?

***

I arrived at the party in my best clothes; a thrift store polo and a pair of faded slacks. The building was white and included four massive stone columns reminiscent of government architecture. I knocked on one of the two massive oak doors at the top of the steps.

A tall raven-haired girl opened the door just enough to look down at me. Glitch techno spilled out and she said, “What do you want?”. I tapped the side of my glasses, pulling up the AR display to check the address. I was at the right place. “Well?” she asked bitchily, clearly short on patience.

“I heard there was a party.”

“Duh. Who invited you?”

Shit, I thought. In my rush to leave I had completely forgotten to get coffee girl’s name. Still, I wasn’t about to let this cranky bitch stop me from having the night of my life. “Her and I just met this morning, she gave me the address,” I said firmly.

The tall girl rolled her eyes, crossed her slender arms under her modest bust, then turned and said, “Hey Priscilla, there is some little nerd boy out here.”

Ugh. This was exactly the kind of shit I had assumed I wouldn’t have to deal with after high school. A distant voice barely audible over the music answered, “Let him in, Kate.” 

The bitch, who I presumed to be Kate, turned back around and sneered at me. “Just make sure you keep your little nerd hands to yourself.” Then she disappeared, leaving the door cracked open. 

I took a deep breath, woo-sah’ed, then pushed the door open.

The inside was, in a word, opulent. It was hard to believe I was still on a college campus as I found myself suddenly surrounded by gold inlays, decorative filigrees, and some very expensive looking art. The center of the room was dominated by a towering white marble statue of woman that looked like some sort of greek goddess with the inscription “Phi Kappa Fum” beneath it. My eyes lingered on it until a familiar voice pulled my attention to an open door. “Dylan! I’m so glad you could make it. Come in!”

I followed the voice into the room and recognized coffee girl right away. She looked in a beautiful white dress that hugged the curves of her upper body like a glove. The lower half was draped like a diaphanous shawl over the couch she was lying on. Five other girls were gathered around her with their bodies angled such that it was clear she was the center of attention. Something about the scene gave me the impression of a princess holding court. “Hi, uhh… Priscilla?” I guessed, uncertain it had been her voice I’d heard over the music.

“That’s me!” She exclaimed good-naturedly. “Come, sit down.”

“I’m not making space for a man,” Kate declared, defiantly. I stopped halfway across the room.

“Oh come off it, Kate. Can you stow the Femme Power crap for a minute.” Priscilla said, exasperated.

The tall girl pouted, “Why did you even invite a guy like him, Sila?”

“I’m right here,” I said, anger creeping into my voice.

“That’s enough.” Priscilla said briskly, “Kate, you need to go.”

“What!?” The obnoxious raven-haired girl exclaimed.

“I mean it. Out,” Priscilla commanded, pointing imperiously Then added, “The rest of you too. I’ve had enough girl talk today.”

A chorus of “aww, Sila” and other protests ensued but Priscilla drew herself up straight and waved them off as royalty might wave off ladies in waiting. I watched in curious amusement as the coterie of pretty girls filed out of the room. Kate stopped on her way out to give me a withering glare and say, “If you lay so much as a single finger on her I will cut your dick off.”

When they were gone I turned to Priscilla and said, “Kate isn’t big on hospitality is she?”

Priscilla looked pained. “I am so sorry about that. Kate means well but she can be a bit of a…” she trailed off.

“Bitch?” I offered.

Priscilla eyes widened and she covered her mouth as though she had been the one to say it. I balked, suddenly worried that I had just insulted one of her friends. Then her hands fell away revealing a mischievous smile. “Yes! I didn’t want to say it, but god yes.”

The tension drained away and I walked over to take Kate’s former seat on the plush couch. “So,” I said conversationally. “I guess it’s not much of a party anymore.”

Priscilla gently touched the back of my hand and traced upward, tickling my skin. Her hand stopped with her thumb lying over my wrist and gave my hand a squeeze. “On the contrary,” she said conspiratorially. “The party is just getting started.”

I looked around and confirmed we were alone. 

In exactly the amount of time it took me to do this Priscilla stood up, moved over to my part of the couch, and straddled me. I looked up at her in shock but before I could open my mouth she took hold of my hand and guided it under her dress. The heat between her thighs was intense and slightly damp. I finally found my voice and said, “I uhh…”

“Shh,” Priscilla hushed me. “Just keep your hand held out. This won’t take long.” With that said she began to grind urgently against my outstretched fingers. This can’t be happening, I thought, but my senses were making a very strong case that ‘this’ was indeed happening. The hot damp between her shapely thighs quickly elevated to furnace wet. Her large breasts jiggled vigorously beneath the clinging fabric of her gown. And a smell I had never encountered before, at once musty and sweet washed over me. Tightness developed in my pants swiftly and painfully.

“Mmmm,” Priscilla moaned. “It’s so much better with help.” I wasn’t sure how I was helping other than bearing part of her weight every time she thrust urgently against my fingers, but I wasn’t about to question it either. “Mmm, oh no.” Priscilla tone shifted to concern. “I don’t want to get sticky.” I looked at her with eyes wide, more aroused than I had ever been in my life and completely unsure of what to do. “Nnn,” she panted. “Cup your hand.” I cupped my free hand. “No, the other one!” she exclaimed urgently. When I did and she quickly reached down and pulled her panties aside. For one incredible, heart-wrenching, moment her steaming hot sex pressed against the skin of my palm and she cried out. When she pulled away my hand was smeared with girl cum. Dumbfounded, I stared at her with my hand outstretched awkwardly. “Don’t get that on the furniture,” she giggled.

For reasons unclear to me my palm had become the sacred vessel of her most intimate fluid. “What should I do then?”

Priscilla giggled again then reached over and said, “Whatever.” She dipped her finger in my palm and brought it back to her mouth. “You.” She sucked her finger clean. Her finger slipped out from between her lips with a wet pop. “Want.” I looked at the juices left in my hand, then back to Priscilla as her tongue swirled around the circumference over her finger, and finally back to my palm. My erection felt hard enough to cut through my pants like an exact-o-knife. As though in a trance I lifted my cupped palm and tested its contents. It was slightly sweet and warm. 

I glanced up and saw Priscilla watching me intently. Emboldened I turned up my cupped hand and sipped the rest of the fluid down. The salty sweet tang of her juices coated my tongue. It was a pleasant flavor. Priscilla smiled gleefully and leaned forward to whisper sexily in my ear, “I like a boy that swallows.” 

I gulped.