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"Women can be scientists too Mr. Business Major," my sister scolded, a wide grin on her lips. She certainly hadn't warned me that the person who was going to supervise the imaging of my penis was drop dead gorgeous.But the scientist was as surprised as I was. The tone of her answering, "Your brother?" announced her incredulity."Axel feels he might be capable of being one of our subjects." She lifted her eyebrows as she spoke, clearly indicating she thought I was crazy. "Mom and I decided to humor him." Again a raising of her eyes.I said nothing. I decided to leave it for later to get back at her. The Doctor looked confused, clearly not sure if some joke was being played. And if so on who.Still, five minutes later Annie had been exiled to the waiting room and I'd been led to the Doctors lab. "Are you really her brother?" were the first words she asked when we found ourselves alone."Apparently," I answered, but then added, "mind you we've never tested Annie's DNA." Words which broke the. My hand reached up under her dress and began to rub her pussy to a frenzy through her black nylons. Cammy's hips rocked in her leather seat. Pulling back briefly, I looked at her, her lips begging for more, her hips gyrating, her pink nipple saluting the moon through the windshield.Composing herself, she followed me inside and I showed her around. While showing her around, we stopped in my walk in closet and started to make out again. It didn't take my hands long to work her tits out of her plunging neck line and into my mouth. As I held her with my left hand, my right hand went under her velvet dress, and slid up and inside her nylons and into her satin panties.I'd never felt such a wet pussy, as my fingers massaged her lips and slid inside her. She reached up, grabbing the door jam of the closet for support. Her moans coming in waves, I laid her on the floor and pushed her dress up over her stomach. Pulling her nylons down was a hell of a task, and we were both horny as hell, so I.
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It’s too late to be here. Too late to be surrounded by all these dead people and their dead things. It wasn’t that she didn’t love the job, bigger museums had offered her jobs with better money and more prestige, but she always turned them down. She stayed because she wanted to be with the collection. But on nights like this, alone, in the dark, it was too easy to think of the building as her own tomb. She felt like one of the slaves buried with the old kings, tending the dead forever. Someone knocked on her office door. She jumped. ‘Dr. Hiller?’ said a voice. She groaned, Marcus. She’d forgotten he was still in the building. ‘Come in,’ she said. He looked slightly sheepish standing in her doorway. He always did. ‘I finished in D-Gallery like you asked.’ He looked at the floor rather than at her, idly clicking the box cutter he used to remove the wire from the shipping crates. She always told him he’d lose a finger if he kept doing that. ‘Good,’ she said, moving papers around her.

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