Lyra

I knew I wasn't going to last much longer. Lyra was way ahead of me. She had been quaking almost continuously. I could sense the big one coming. Lyra screamed out in harmony with the music and her body convulsed repeatedly. We were floating in space, above the stars. The voices were urging us on. The orchestra reached a crescendo at the same time I did. I don't know if I screamed as well but as I poured everything I had into Lyra. Someone, or something, rang the gong, hard. The sound reverberated through me and the universe fractured.

We fell together back through space, through the solar system, through the atmosphere and back onto the bed, exhausted and exhilarated.

I don't know how long we lay there with me on top of Lyra. As I gained consciousness I thought I had to be hurting her. When I tried to move, she wrapped her arms around me and held me tightly against her. Eventually, she loosened her grip and I rolled off her.

There was no more analysis, just joy. We spent the night together and floated to the music several times. Every time it got easier to reach the level of the "others" until just holding hands left us light on our feet. I called in sick on Friday morning and we stayed together until early afternoon.

Lyra and I spent a lot of time together after that. We were addicted to each other but we both realized that too much was probably unhealthy but too little was like opioid withdrawal. We began to see each other twice a week and Friday nights since the opportunity to stay together into Saturday was so appealing. Over time we found a rhythm that led us quickly to the safety of the musicians, as we began to call them.

We were well into our fourth month together when my company notified me of a short assignment on the other side of the country. My help was needed for approximately three months. I would be on a semi-permanent assignment with no opportunity to return home until the job was finished. I was the best candidate since I had no local family and was unmarried. I hadn't told anyone about Lyra.

Lyra was distraught. She wanted to come with me. She wanted to fly out every weekend. We had a long talk and I convinced her we'd make it through the separation. I told her it was as difficult for me as it was for her. I told her I'd do everything I could to finish the job quickly and come home early. We could talk every day and look forward to a highflying reunion when I came back.

We spent the entire weekend before I had to leave together. Even the musicians seemed to be sad about our separation. We flew together all weekend and I flew alone on Monday. I took a cab alone to the airport. Lyra was too upset to drive. I called her from the airport, during a layover in Chicago and again when I checked into the suite hotel I'd call home for the next three months.

The job was tedious and I returned to the hotel every night exhausted. I called Lyra every morning and again every night. The three-hour time difference got one of us up early and kept the other up late every day. I worked through the weekends but it did little to shorten the time we were apart. The phone calls helped a lot and we discussed the nature of the musicians and our ability to interact with them. At times we became very philosophical.

During one of our conversations, about five weeks into our separation, Lyra wondered aloud if we could find others with the same sense of the musicians. Baring that, she wondered if we could teach others how to fly.

"I'm not sure what you're driving at. Are you thinking we should have sex with other people and gauge their involvement and if it's similar to ours?"

"I think so."

"You want to have sex with someone else?"

"Not really. It was a theoretical question."

"You want me to have sex with someone else?"

"That would be preferable."

"Lyra, my work schedule, talking with you, eating and sleeping doesn't leave much time for a social life. Even if it did, I wouldn't know how to approach it."

"Just think about it."

A week later she brought up the subject again. She really wanted to know if we were alone or if we could teach others to share our joy. Once again I told her I'd think about it but she had to follow a similar path.

"You want me to sleep with another guy?"

"Not any more than you want me to sleep with another gal. I promise to follow through if I can but I'm not going to tell you anything either way unless the result is positive. You also have to do the same and you have to agree not to press the subject again."

"OK."

"So, we're agreed. We will both seek another partner in the interest of scientific discovery."

"Yes."

"I going to look for a woman and you're going to look for a man?"

"Something like that."

Very mysterious, but I dropped the subject.

I checked out of the hotel a week later than originally planned and flew home. Lyra met me at the airport and we struggled with not flying together right there. I just told her the landing on the terrazzo floor would be too hard.

I took a week off from work and we spent the entire week together. Except for the time we needed to travel to a secluded mountain resort, we spent almost the entire time in bed. Room service got a major workout and we hardly let go of each other even during the one time we went out for a celebration dinner. The other patrons were certainly looking at us during dinner and one impolite socialite mouthed the words, "Get a room," when I looked in her direction. We laughed all the way back to our room.

Two days after I returned to work, the regional VP called me into his office and gave me a bonus, a promotion and a raise for the work I had done offsite. He told me he knew he had chosen the right guy for the job and I had performed flawlessly. My work had saved the company one of its biggest clients and several million dollars in revenue.

Lyra was delighted and, after we landed, she looked me in the eye more seriously than I could remember. "I have to know about our deal. I know we agreed not to talk about it but I have to know. Did you find a candidate to test our theory?"

"Lyra, honestly I tried but I didn't have much time and I'm not very good when it comes to picking up women. So, no I didn't find a candidate. How about you?"

"I managed, after a fashion, but I think I have the ideal candidate for you."

"You've been scouting for me? And, what do you mean 'after a fashion?'"

"Yes and Rose is the answer to both questions. My friend Rose and I spent some time together while you were away. I worked a conversation toward sex and the special feelings some people get during it. One thing led to another and Rose and I held hands to see if anything magical happened. I didn't feel anything but Rose said she did, so we took it to the next level."

"You mean you had sex with another girl?"

"Yeah, but don't get your tighty whities in a bunch. It wasn't fun or satisfying. I felt nothing, less than nothing. Rose said she felt something but I'm suspicious. But, just in case she's on to something, I'd like you to follow-up."

"You want me to have sex with Rose and you think she would be OK with it?"

"Sure. I already cleared it with her."

"So, you've procured a woman named Rose to have sex with me as an experiment. Have you considered the consequences if Rose is right and she can fly, and also, if I fly with her? I don't want anything to damage us and I don't want to share either of us with someone else."

"OK. It's just an experiment. You can say no but I wish you wouldn't. I'd really like to know if we are unique. Even if Rose can fly, you don't have to indulge her again. She can find her own partner since we'll have proven one exists and she'll have an incentive to search."

"You don't think there's a down side?"

"No, I don't."

"OK, but I'm still uneasy. When would you like to do this?"

"Whenever you want."

"You set it up with Rose and I'll be there."

So it came to pass that on Wednesday I presented myself at Rose's apartment freshly bathed with a small bouquet of flowers, a bottle of cheap Chardonnay and clean underwear.

Rose greeted me with a "welcome" and a smile. Rose could not have been more different from Lyra. She was taller, with long dark hair and brown eyes. She was pleasantly plump but not overweight. She had shapely legs, a nice ass and enormous breasts. I noticed this since she was wearing a short, summer weight robe tied loosely at her waist, and nothing else.

She took my meager gifts into the kitchen where she set them on the counter and turned back to me. "We can open the wine later. I'm really anxious to get started. Is that OK with you?"

"I guess," I stammered.

"Great." She walked over to me, put her hands on my waist and kissed me. After a half second of surprise, I kissed her back. It was more pleasant than I expected. I didn't know what to expect and I'd managed to create Rose in my head as a lonely spinster. If the kiss was any indication, I wasn't in the ballpark.

The kiss developed into something prolonged with much tongue and teeth. When we came up for air, Rose took my hand and led me to her bedroom. Her queen-sized bed was neatly turned down and the pillows nicely fluffed at the head. Rose stood in front of me and unbuttoned my shirt and helped me out of it. She then began to unbuckle my belt without taking her eyes from mine. She undid my buckle, the snap on my jeans and the zipper, and pushed my pants down to my thighs. Throughout she managed to kiss me several more times and I discovered she liked to have her ass rubbed as we kissed.

She moved to sit on the bed in front of me and I pulled the belt of her robe. The robe fell open as she sat and revealed large, perfect breasts with small areola, erect nipples and a neatly trimmed triangle of dense brown hair. Rose shrugged out of the robe and used both hands to slide my pants down and off my legs. She repeated the action with my briefs.

Smiling, Rose took my stiffening cock in one hand and leaned forward to take it into her mouth. She clearly had done this before. I felt many things, most of them very pleasant, but no humming or music. I knew then that the experiment with Rose wasn't going to be successful. However, I felt obligated to complete the mission. That last statement is self-serving. I actually reverted to the average male, horny and about to get laid.

We spent the next three hours experimenting with every option known to man. I discovered a fondness for her breasts. I lifted them, squeezed them, fondled them, kissed them and fucked them as often as I could. Whenever there was a break in the action, I returned to her breasts.

When we couldn't go further, we lay together on her bed, sweaty, sticky and glistening. We had had every earthly sexual experience I could imagine but nothing interstellar. Our faces and bodies were coated with our saliva and secretions. The bed was a hopeless mess. The sheets were pulled out on one side, the pillows were on the floor somewhere and there were pools of viscous liquid everywhere.

Rose rolled slowly off the bed, took my hand and led me to the bathroom. We took a shower together and I managed to reprise an earlier anal encounter before we were done.

I dressed slowly. Rose watched. I sensed a mood of sadness in her. We had had an exceptionally fulfilling experience but we both knew Rose and I hadn't risen to the levels Lyra and I had. Rose led me to the door, kissed me one more time and I left her there, naked, in the doorway with the flowers and the unopened bottle wine on the counter.

Later, Lyra wanted to know how the evening went. I told her that Rose wasn't a candidate but I refused to provide details.

Two days later, as we lay in bed with Lyra gently stroking my cock, she said. "Rose said you really liked her breasts."

"Oh boy," I thought. "They've been talking. I wonder where this is headed."

"They were OK," I said.

"But you really liked them, right?"

"You could say that but I really like your breasts as well."

"Rose's are big and mine are non-existent."

"Size isn't everything. Shape and sensitivity are also important," I said as I began to fondle and kiss her breasts paying special attention to her sensitive nipples.

"But if mine were larger ...," she managed between squeaks, gasps and moans.

The next day I noticed a change in Lyra's eating habits. She was eating more protein, ham and cheese. Over the next few months she gained significant weight and I was discovering more varied foods in her refrigerator. In four months she topped out at about 120 pounds and not a single ounce was misplaced. Her legs and thighs became more shapely. Her ass gained some definition. Her face lost its sunken look and her arms and shoulders softened and I could no longer see the outline of my erection on her abdomen when we made love. The greatest change was to her breasts. They leapt at the opportunity to show their stuff.

One afternoon, while I was enjoying pumping my erection between her breasts as she pushed them together, she said, "You really like this, don't you?"

"I do, but you didn't have to gain weight for me. I loved your body the way it was."

"I didn't do it just for you. Rose convinced me it would be better for both of us and she was right. I love the things you do with my breasts and I'm glad I did it. The only thing I don't like is I have to wear a bra most of the time."

"Not with me you don't."

All the time Lyra was gaining weight, we were pushing the limits of our trips with the musicians. Over time it became easier to meet with them and we began to discern individual voices that encouraged us and tried to teach us about their world. It wasn't easy to understand them. Eventually, I was able to distinguish individual sounds and attach meaning to them. As I became more fluent I translated for Lyra and helped her to keep up. But it was difficult. I was translating everything in both directions and trying to keep two dictionaries in my head.

Then, one Thursday night, after a protracted flight above the stars I landed in bed and realized I was thinking musically. I no longer needed to translate. I knew the meaning behind what I felt. I looked at Lyra and knew she wasn't there yet. It took two days of intensive, exhausting effort until she got it. We quickly learned to "vocalize" the sounds and thoughts of the new language. Once there, we sang with the choir and danced among the stars. Together, we soloed for the musicians with unrestrained approval.

Over the next few weeks we expanded our vocabulary exponentially until we could communicate with the group and individuals without hesitation. At home Lyra and I discovered we preferred to communicate with each other musically. Using language with our friends and co-workers seemed difficult and limiting. I became somewhat withdrawn because I was thinking musically and I couldn't find the words to properly communicate what I was thinking and feeling and translating was impossible.

On a Friday night, two weeks later, Lyra and I began our best and longest journey yet. We started slowly, holding hands and caressing each other. We undressed each other with more than the usual emotion and made love with utmost care for each other. We lifted above the bed and over the earth. We flew past the planets and into deep space above the stars. The choir and the orchestra joined us in our joy. This time, when the gong sounded, we didn't return.