'Connie! Connie! Come in. You won't believe...'
As the old man turned away and scuttled back into his study, his voice faded to nothing. From the bright, cold hard corridor, I stepped into a dull homely warmth, from echoes and cleaning fluid, into an anechoic cocktail of pipe smoke and coffee. The floor was tessellating redwood blocks, the furniture time-worn leather and mahogany, and the rugs deep, patterned and Persian. The ornate ceiling was high and the tall bookcases that filled both long sides of the room were bricked up with leather-bound knowledge. Heavy velvet curtains usually filled the whole of the far wall, though this evening they were partially open, revealing a huge and intricately leaded window. Beyond Professor Samuelson's cosy enclave, clouds drifted and the heavens turned. The sun's dying rays pierced the multicoloured glass, illuminating his dusty academic world with shafts of regal greens, blues, reds and ambers. Beams splashed onto stacks of ancient books and dog-eared yellowed papers that covered every raised horizontal surface, smothering each table and chair, each cupboard and shelf. The stooping figure in the tweed-suit stopped, turned and puffed his pipe. Swirling fingers of smoke grasped and choked the sun's last strangled breath. The sights and smells transported me back through time.
A nicotined finger traced the words. Though only five years old, I read the complex text with ease, understood it too. I knew I was five because my shiny red shoes were a fifth birthday present that were sadly and quickly grown out of, as was the pretty flared frock I almost constantly wore. Father bounced me on his knee, squeezed my shoulder, and sucked on his pipe once more, while fervently nodding his head.
'Clever girl, Connie! Clever girl!'
I screwed up my face and pouted my lips in a theatrical exaggeration of confusion. My lisp was a mere childhood affliction.
'So Isaac Newton was wrong? How can that be, Daddy? You said he was the cleverest man ever!'
Father chuckled.
'He was, but he could only go so far in one lifetime. What he achieved in his was handed over to others. Over the centuries, his work has been added to by some almost equally clever people using increasingly accurate methods of measurement - measurements Newton's era was simply not capable of - and so eventually they proved that time...'
'So, Constance,' the professor knew my name was simply Connie, was not a contraction, but when the mood took him, he loved to employ its posh parent, 'please, take off your coat. Let me see you.' He became thoughtful and whispered, as though to himself. 'Yes. See you...'
His use of my Sunday name allowed me an uneasy familiarity, one he had long ago bestowed upon me.
'Of course, Edmund.'
I slowly unbuttoned and peeled the dark wool garment from my shoulders then let it slide down my slender arms before casting it casually over the same chair back on which I had recently hung my chic black handbag. The sun had expired. The room was gloomy now. Colour had given way to monochrome and hard geometry had melted into vague whimsy. He took two sideways steps and a table lamp sprung into life. I blinked. He clapped his hands like an enraptured schoolboy.
'Oh! There you are!' Another clap. 'There you are! Look at you! Perfection!'
He himself had bought me the scarlet high heels, had bought too the flared floral frock, its clever halter neck allowing a fully bared back and deep décolletage. The white silk stockings were my own addition, as were the skimpy silken knickers that I knew he would want to keep. My long blonde hair was tied up and pinned just as he liked it, with not a single free wisp to tickle my neck. Lipstick naturally matched my shoes. I fluttered my favourite falsies and gazed around.
'I have always loved this room. Ever since Father first brought me here...'
'He was a lovely man. Your mother too.' The professor loved to play with words and I smiled easily at his little joke. He grew serious. 'I miss them both, Connie. And more than you could ever comprehend. I never knew a man could work so hard! He barely had time for anything else. Your mother too! She was...'
I laughed.
'They found time to make me!'
He didn't share my quip, continued almost as if I were never made by anyone.
'...incredibly beautiful. And so quick, so incisive. Her ability to see truth where others could barely see a lie was astounding. I see her in you. You are so much...'
Emotion caused his words to stumble. His eyes shone with tears.
'Please, Edmund. We promised to... never... you know?'
He nodded and his wild grey hair swept away his woe.
'Yes. Quite.'
'So what will I not believe?'
For several moments, he peered quizzically over his half-moon glasses before the penny dropped.
'Ah, yes! How could I forget! Unification! I believe I have achieved it!'
I sniffed and my unsupported tits quivered, their stiff little nipples chafing against the frock's clever cups.
'Seriously?'
'Yes. I believe so.' He untangled one folded arm, spread it like a wing and motioned a shaky hand to the blackboard on the wall behind me, beside which was the heavy door my knuckles had so recently rapped. Densely packed together and covering almost every inch of the board, untidy, almost illegible formulae were scribed in the professor's unmistakable hand. Much I recognised instantly, though substantial sections were new to me. I rested my hands on a chair back and peered at the jumbled chalky mess.
'General Relativity and Quantum Mechanics... You have somehow brought them together? On your own?'
The very notion was ludicrous - even more so than our own unlikely yet constant coming together. Though old, he moved like a dancer, was behind me and breathing in my ear in an instant.
'Yes, Constance.'
He started to have me. I expected it, was perfectly dressed for it. His hands were quickly up or inside my scanty clothing, sampling even the most private areas of my body. This was how he liked it. Him active: me passive. I relaxed, allowed him to move me, part my legs to his liking, thus giving him unhindered access. As he unclipped the halter, he kissed my neck, nibbled my cute diamond-studded lobes and pressed his swelling groin into my backside.
Read the conclusion of this torrid tale plus - extremely generously, I feel - nine further stories in 'Measuring up', my latest collection of concise erotica, available now exclusively on Amazon.
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