Drinks with an old friend

After a few hours of staring at genetic sequences you've pulled from Yasmina's samples, your eyes are getting tired so you call it a day. You're making progress unpicking the viral strands of alien code from the baseline genes, but the virus has integrated so well it can be difficult to even figure out where human ends and something else begins. The process is so fascinating. How an extraterrestrial organism was even able to interact with human cells is a question that will be dominating your field for many years to come.

You've stayed a little late, so the lab is empty as you gather up your things. Turning off the lights on your way out, you head downstairs through empty corridors, a smile on your face and a spring in your step. For the first time in a while, you actually have something social planned for this evening. Better still, it's with an old schoolfriend you've been looking forward to seeing again ever since she got back in touch with you.

She's texted you the location of a bar near campus, so you stride across the mostly empty quads, heading that way. A few students chatting in a huddled group stare at you as you pass. You're used to the attention a woman your height attracts by now and give it no mind.

About ten minutes later, you've found the bar and duck inside. You're hit in the face by a wave of noise and stale air. The place is popular it seems, heaving with a much younger crowd then you expected. Why'd Christine choose it?

"Lucy!" A high-pitched and familiar voice shouts across the bar. "Over here!" You turn and spot your oldest friend sitting at a booth in the corner. Christine Olson, you hardly recognize her. At school together she was a mousy nerd, the pair of you outcasts. She was terribly short-sighted and wore these huge glasses, which was enough to brand her as a hopeless loser amongst the other girls. Now she's blossomed into one of the most beautiful women you've ever seen. She's wearing a slinky red dress over her curvy body with a split leg, baring inches of perfect tanned skin. Her blonde hair runs down her back in perfectly trimmed ringlets, and her natural prettiness is added to by some tasteful makeup you wouldn't even know how to begin applying. You can see a few much younger men lingering close by, no doubt waiting for a chance to snap her up. Small chance of that you hope, she's been married for ten years to a wealthy software executive.

"Christine!" You step forward, smiling widely. "It's been too long." She leaps up from her chair as you approach and barrels forward, throwing herself into your much taller body and hugging you tightly round the waist. You pause, a little shocked she's being so cuddly, but it feels good so you reach down and hold her shoulders, letting her relax into you.

"God, Lucy." She smiles up at you, craning her neck. "How have we not seen each other in so many years?"

"Life, I guess." You reply. "I moved here, and you were on the other side of the country. We've kept in touch though, right?"

"It's not the same and you know it." She pouts her plump, glistening lips. Her body presses against yours, and you feel the heat coming off her skin. Her large boobs press into your waist, squashing all that flesh against your abs. She's so soft, fuck...

"Why don't we get some drinks?" You cough politely, pulling away from her before she can feel what's happening between your legs. Not now, you stupid thing, you try to tell your throbbing cock. This is your oldest friend. She's not even a cute boy.

The pair of you sit down at the booth, and for some reason she decides to sit next to you rather than across. Her leg is pressed against yours while you order a beer for yourself. She's drinking some fancy cocktail that looks like pink syrup. Over your glasses you start to chat, and it quickly doesn't feel like the years apart have even happened. She's the same chatty, ditzy girl you had so much fun with back when you were teens, after she got over her shyness with you that is.

Christine bombards you with questions about your life, so much so that it feels like you hardly even have a chance to get a breath in. You tell her all about the university, your work, even some of the funny things your students have done. She listens so well, but then as soon as you pause there's another question on her lips before you can even muster up one of your own. You're telling her everything while getting almost nothing back and she does it so naturally you hardly even notice.

"So, Lucy." She leans into your shoulder, fluttering those long lashes at you. "Is there a man in your life?" You splutter helplessly into your beer. The question's shocking enough, but you can see right down her dress like this! Holy shit! She's not even wearing a bra! Her nipples are pink and stiff, pressing into the front of her dress. Anyone could see that!

"Not right now." You manage to gasp, wondering what the Hell has happened to the shy girl in shapeless sweaters you used to hang out with. She smiles like a pleased cat, her eyes on your face, and you finally see your chance to turn the tables and get attention off your own forlorn love life. "What about you?" You ask. "How's your husband doing?"

"That sad sack." She sighs and you get the feeling she's disappointed you even brought him up. "He's good for paying for things and not much else." You pause, a little shocked at what you're hearing. From the messages she's sent you over the years, Christine always acted like she was happily married. "Although..." She giggles cheekily. "Recently we've been managing to have a little more fun together, exploring new things. I've been trying to catch up on lost time, you see." Suddenly her hand is on your leg, tracing up and down your thigh. You swallow hard. No matter who she is, your aching dick can't resist that kind of invitation. It's pressing hard against your panties, and you know if she looks down there she'll see a rather formidable bulge in your trousers.

"Christine." You cough, struggling to ignore the throbbing need in your loins. "Don't touch me there."

"Are you sure?" She simpers. You nod stiffly, but she doesn't stop, her fingers tiptoeing in towards your stiff cock, so close you find yourself bucking your hips to meet them. "Don't you remember that night?" She continues, her voice a sultry purr that sends shivers down your spine. "The sleepover at your house when we practiced kissing. I could feel your cock every time you pressed against me, so big and hard. You know I touched myself when you were asleep, right?"

"What the Hell is wrong with you?" You rise to your feet, sending your empty glass spinning away across the table. How dare she? You're breathing hard, furious at this sick distortion of one of your most dear friendships.

"You're no fun, Lucy." Christine pouts again, like this is a joke. She slinks up from her own chair, her body swaying like a serpent. You can't stop yourself from staring at her curves, the way that tight dress clings so close to the twin mounds of her butt. Smirking at you, she leans forward, giving you another view right into her bare cleavage.

"Don't." You snap viciously, towering over her with your full height.

"Oh my, I forgot how scary you are when you're mad." She giggles, her hand in front of her lips. "Call me if you ever decide you want to loosen up and have a little fun, dear. The way I see it, you're getting rather pent up." Her sparkling eyes dart down to your crotch and she licks her plump lips. You flush, suddenly aware that most of the bar has gone quiet and is staring at the pair of you. Worse still, your cock is still aching hard, and when you glance down you can see the bulge in your trousers is way too obvious. Spluttering for air, you collapse back onto your seat, sliding under the table to hide it. "Bye bye, Lucy." Christine waves at you. Then she slinks away, her dress so tight you can see the rounded curves of her butt wiggling with every step. She's gone out the door in an instant, leaving you with nothing but a whole lot of questions and the attention of the whole bar still fixed on you.

You slump forward over the grimy table, head in your hands. What in the Hell just happened?