Small Spaces

If someone would have told Nora when she was eighteen years old that in seven years’ time she was going to be placed in a room with a man she’d never before met, expected to live together, and told to have sex with him, she would have laughed in their face. Not unkindly, since she wasn’t cruel like her sisters. But the idea would have been beyond absurd to her.

That is, until she found out about The Program.

At nineteen she was already working as an intern to the agriculture station, due to her advanced knowledge of bio-chemistry and her extensive training since the age of eleven. Her father specialized in animal studies, and she was given the privilege of helping him with his work. The animals fascinated her, but it was the plants that they kept there to feed them that really caught her interest. With the population’s concern of the shifting climate and the swiftly depleting food supply, among the numerous other physical and mental concerns such as dropping fertility rates, Nora decided that the best thing she could devote her life to was developing plants that fared well in cold weather.

Even when she was asked to enter The Compound, where workers of higher standards were brought in to live and escape the clamor of the masses in the menial work force, she still dedicated her research and work to making sure those less-fortunate people had the ability to feed themselves; to be independent of the governmental food supply that very often neglected all but their most basic of needs.

It was there, when she was twenty that she first learned of the synthetically produced human beings known as Lab Babies. Her parents had always told her that she was special, that her family was special, because soon things would be difficult and people wouldn’t be living in family units very much longer. And throughout her life that simple explanation was good enough.

Seeing these people, however, seeing how pointless and barren their lives were, made her truly change her mind. Most weren’t happy, didn’t have families or husbands or wives to go home to. They were just there.

She saw him one day, his purposeful strides, his dark eyes, avoiding even the slightest brush of someone’s shoulder upon his own as he headed toward his assigned flat in the bachelor wing. It was directly after Samuel had left her, gone back to that woman he’d been seeing before he applied to The Program. It didn’t much matter; Nora had been starting to think that all their work hadn’t been worth a damn anyway.

But following their separation and the year of empty womb that followed, she began to learn about him. Jacob 128. He was one of them, one of the synthetically created children who never knew a mother or a father. Grown, not raised. Like one of her beloved plants. Even her plants, however, received love and support.

Watching him had nearly broken her heart, going into that lonely room, never seeing anyone, never having a meal with another person. Always by himself.

Something about the solemn man spoke to Nora as no one else had. It was decided, from the moment she saw him: she would have him, she would teach him…

The sound of running water in the bathroom sparked her interest. Jen was trying to get her attention on the VCD, but she shut it off, slipping the device into a drawer and out of sight. The lights, which were dim to begin with, she turned down all the way, and pulled up her desk-top monitor.

Dr. Farwell had introduced her to a few aspects of their room that might help bring them closer together, should they have problems kick-starting their routine. One of these aspects was a shower cam. Or, more specifically, three shower cams. Yes she should have been respectful of Jacob’s privacy; that was one of the rules. However, it was to the point where Nora needed all the help she could get. And if Farwell excused this little indiscretion, then so be it.

Jacob had steamed up the room. At first she thought maybe the cameras wouldn’t pick up anything worth seeing. But when they were completely on and warmed up, she threw that notion right out the window. One camera was overhead, and she could get a full view of him, while one was close-up, level to his face, and the other was focused on his body.

He was perfection. Samuel had been all muscle and fake tan. Dazzling smile. It bored her to death; nothing about him had turned her on. This man, though…he was so different. She watched as the hot water made lazy trails down his face, down that beautifully odd nose of his, running in rivulets down high cheekbones and into the hollow at the base of a long, slender throat.

He was so thin, so long-limbed. She imagined him wrapping those arms around her, slipping his keyboard-calloused fingers into her wetness. Controlling one of the cameras, she made it dip lower, following his tight, pale chest, down to the softness of his belly where the nearness of middle age was starting to show on him. He brought his arms up, running his hands through his hair, lathering it up. This action thrust the prominent bones of his hips forward, tightened his already taught ass, and exposed her to that magnificent cock that was lying limp, just begging for some attention.

As he rubbed himself down with soap, Nora began to unbutton her slacks, slipping one hand down beneath her simple black briefs and felt exactly how wet she was. Her hot lips sucked at the tips of her fingers, beckoning them further. She imagined his inexperienced mouth on her, his tongue lathing her peaked nipples, causing goosebumps to appear over the flesh of her shoulders and abdomen.

Burying one finger in the wetness, she tried to imagine him entering her for the first time. How long had it been for him? Would he moan when he was inside her? She stifled her own cry as another finger slipped inside herself, striking the most pleasurable spots with each hard thrust of her hips.

Jacob opened his mouth, allowing the water to splash down the sides of his face. Nora cried out this time as a third finger entered, and her hips began to frantically move with the pulsing of the shower head. The index finger on her other hand was rapidly working her clit, drawing excited sounds forth and making her throw back her head, sending the tangled tendrils of hair over her shoulders and into her eyes. Perspiration clung to her eyelashes, to her chin, her upper lip, as she worked herself more furiously.

She came with a harsh grunt, half-scream, as her hips pounded forward, just as he reached up and turned off the water. Coming down from her orgasmic high, Nora sucked her fingers, righted her clothing, and tried to mop the sweat from her face. Jacob opened the door, and called to her softly, his voice making her pussy throb with longing.

“Nora?” He sounded like a little boy. But she knew better.

“Yes?”

“Would you…hand me my pajamas? I seem to have…”

Nora grinned, opened his hidden closet, and pulled out a pair of pajama bottoms, but nothing else. Crossing the short distance, she handed them to him. He studied her for a moment, his eyebrows knitted together in confusion or concern, before he said, “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” she replied, secretly hoping that they could get on with this. And soon.

He exited the bathroom, obviously a little on edge because of his state of shirtlessness. What other women might have deemed as too thin or unattractive, Nora found absolutely captivating about him. When he went to climb the small ladder into his lofted bed, Nora placed a hand on his shoulder. Jacob turned to her with a questioning glace.

“Don’t I get a goodnight kiss?” She asked, secretly wondering whether or not he’d be able to taste her pussy on her lips.

After thinking about it for a moment, he leaned forward, allowing his lips to brush hers, scarcely for more than a few seconds. She wanted to cling to him, to run her tongue over his, grab his ass and pull him into her. But she never got the chance.

“Goodnight,” he said, before climbing up into his bed, throwing the covers up over himself, and turning toward the wall.