Thread: It was just one... (Bevatoria and skittish_butterfly)

Elizabeth snagged one of the cookies from the plate as he offered it to her, not thanking him because he was sarcastic about it in a way he had no right to be. And of course because he had just sexually harassed her. Fine, maybe it wasn't in the lab, but that was Grant taking a desperate stab in the dark, trying to get out of the consequences of what he'd said. She'd remember he said that too, she was sure of it. She thought about taking a second one, but didn't want to yield the moral high ground to him over a cookie. One would do. Having snatched the cookie and glared at him with her brows lowered in the most ferocious look a girl her size could muster, she turned on her heel and stomped off. His parting words she just waved off as she munched with delight on the second cookie, practically walking straight into a couple that was having an argument in front of her. Something about it being hot tonight, being warm. If she were a boy she would have turned and given him the finger. She'd always liked the way they could do that, but if just ridiculous from her, so she took another bite, steadied herself with a hand against the wall like she was drunk -- she'd never been drunk but somehow the noise of the party and the sheer exasperation of dealing with Grant had her feeling very off balance. Hot tonight. Cum only if he said so. What a sad and pathetic man he was. She shook her head, wondering where Grant had gone wrong. He was even kind of good looking in a way, for the girls that had time to fawn and cater and fetch to a guy's whims. Why was he like this? A few hands helped steady her as she made her was across the party floor still munching on the last of her cookie, totally distracted. Soon enough she was out in the bracing evening air, a cool fall breeze stirring her hair as it stuck out under the wool cap. Elizabeth headed straight back to the lab, hands deep in her pockets, trying to focus on the evening of lab work ahead of her but spending most of her mental energy trying to shove the stupid incident with Grant out of her mind. Cumming. What was his fixation and fascination with that? A simple biological response, meaningless on its own really. Just a neurological and biochemical trick to fool the body into accepting the invasive activities needed to procreate. Messy and primitive and a waste of time. Not even worth thinking about. So why had he brought it up? Elizabeth stopped and did a couple jumping jacks at the glass doors to the building, getting her blood pumping before going in so she could focus and get some quality work done. Enough letting a pervert distract her with his... his crazy talk. Besides, if she wanted to cum, and she didn't, but if she did, then she would. It was natural, hormones built up over time. It happened. Had nothing to do with that baboon at all. Grant. Stupid baboon. She could cum any time she wanted to. If she felt like wasting the time. She looked at herself in the dark mirroring of the darkened buildings glass doors. It was after hours, no one around. Her cheeks were a little red from the cool air and the jumping jacks probably. Not from thinking about the other stuff. Stop it! She'd said it aloud and she looked around to see if anyone was watching her. Stop it, Elizabeth, she said again, quieter, looking at her reflection in the glass. Get your head in the game. Stop worrying about it. If he wanted to obsess about crass stuff, let him. But why did he even care? Especially after she rejected him. He shouldn't. She checked her reflection. Nothing about her to obsess about really, right? Maybe a pretty face, but she always wore her glasses, never makeup. Boys always raved about her mom's long dark hair, her father told her, but she kept hers covered or braided. And she was skinny, but didn't wear all the stupid girl modelly crap, and nothing really so impressive about her chest, really, either. What was there about her that made Grant care so much about her cumming? It wasn't even funny. No! Stop it. Go up to the lab. She grabbed the door and forced herself up the stairs to at a time until she was out of breath and huffing and puffing at her workstation, staring a very long night in the face. Not only did was Elizabeth determined to finish her experiment, and then prepare even harder for Grant's tutorial section in the morning, nanotech stuff she already owned cold but wanting to nail down some research papers she'd found on bone regeneration and rejection issues. She was intent on putting his weak intellect and suspect morals in their place. She was in room 308 with her third coffee of the morning already, watching the few advanced level students file in for the section Grant taught.She was the youngest by two years, and probably still the best. But she was too tired to smile about it. She never drank coffee, but she had to this morning. And it was his fault. Elizabeth sat in the back row, right by the door, watching it, waiting for Grant to come in. Every thought in her head was about confronting him -- or at least a lot of her thoughts, there were still those others, the ones that were his fault. He had to be told what a jerk he was for talking to her like that, saying those awful things. Elizabeth recognized his shoes, the first part of him through the door. She'd thought about how annoying his fancy shoes were from time to time during her sleepless night, rolling around hot and sweaty in her bed and trying not to think about biological imperatives, trying to turn her mind to the nano papers she'd been too flustered to read. Elizabeth wasn't weak minded, wasn't some vulnerable girl who needed to be protected and shielded. She was tough, intellectually at least. But he had gone out side of the bounds of what was acceptable, and it was his fault she was off her game, not hers. Eventually, toward morning, she had even tried, briefly. Oh, she hadn't wanted to, but she remembered how a few times in the past it had calmed her down. Still, the thought of touching herself that way, the same night Grant had said that to her was just too disturbing, her mind spinning around too fast. It felt good but she'd had to stop, knowing it wasn't going anywhere -- that it shouldn't! And that had just made it worse. As light had dawned, she'd gotten out of bed and showered off, so damp with perspiration she couldn't stand it. Her whole body was hot and she wondered if maybe she was sick. That would be his fault too, but in the end, it was enough just to blame him for what he had really done, been so crude it had discombobulated her. Elizabeth got up quickly before he could enter the room fully and got right in his face, her temper rising quickly as her blood just seemed to be running hot this morning despite her weary exhaustion. She poked he slender finger into his chest, poking him back into the hall where she could let him have it but good. Listen, Mr. You're can't cum unless I say so ... I don't think what you did last night was funny, not one bit. Did you even stop to think I have feelings? Sure I'm smart, maybe I seem like I'm on a different level from you, but I'm human too. And what you said, it really upset me. I couldn't sleep a wink last night because of you. It was traumatic. I want an apology. Maybe a written apology, I haven't decided if that will be enough yet. But I need something from you, that much is clear. And it better be a good apology for the night you put me through!