"Lindy, toss me one of those peppers, would you?"

"Red one, Rob?"

"Ah, yep. You said you do like curry, right?"

"Yeah, I do, but nothing too extreme, okay?"

"Got it Mel. I promise your mouth will be mostly intact after."

"Mostly?"

"Well, it's not a curry, if it's not hot."

"You said 'a mild dish'. I heard you Rob."

"Yeah. Mild. For Mindy. Well, I intended that, for a start."

"Oh."

"Yeah, 'oh'."

My name is actually Melinda. Rob likes to mess with it as much as possible. He's the same with food. Rob and I had been living together for about six months. Oh, not cohabiting. Sharing the house, not the bed. Got it?

It was nice and comfortable, to tell the truth. I'd gone through a rather exciting period where I lost my boyfriend and my flatmate more or less at the same time. I'd had time to become comfortable with the lack of boyfriend, and stumbled on Rob as a flatmate. It worked out well.

"You want rice with that, Milly?"

"Milly?"

"Doesn't work? Okay. Brown?"

"You can't call me 'Brown', Rob"

"Rice."

"Oh."

"Well? Mel? Hell. Hee hee."

"If that's your best work, no wonder you have to work nights. Yes please."

"I don't have to. I choose to. Could you get it out for me? I don't want this to burn."

"You could turn it down, Rob."

"Ruins the effect. Thanks. And the pan?"

Rob was a musician. He played bass in a covers band, but had plans to do all sorts of stunning things. Like all musicians. I'd heard him play though, and he wasn't bad. Not bad at all.

His life was more exciting than mine. I studied. Endlessly. I'd started off as a med student, and drifted into research. I was working part time in a lab, studying sleep, would you believe? We got people in, wired them up, and told them to relax. Bloody strange way to make a living, but it paid for my studies, and then meant I didn't need to go cap in hand to my father, a major plus.

"Ooh, ooh, pineapple?"

"No."

"Why not Mel?"

"Can't afford it. You have half the week's groceries in there already."

"Smells nice though, doesn't it?"

"It does, Rob."

We didn't have a lot to do with each other, on the whole. I would come home in the evening, in time to find that Rob had cooked me a little something, and was on his way out to some bar, where he would play until the early hours. He would return around the time I got up for work, and we might say hi again.

I know what you are thinking. A flatmate who cooks me hot meals? A guy? Yeah, great, I know. He was a bit messy when he got here, and I still needed to clean up the kitchen after him at times, but it was well worth it, and he made up for it by cleaning the bathroom every weekend, without fail. The only time he didn't do it, he was sick in bed. I had to insist that he stay there.

"It's ready, dreamer."

"Thanks Rob. Bowls, yeah?"

"Yeah, think that would be best. Want to watch the news, Melinda?"

"It's finished already. Here you go."

"Yeah?"

"You want to pay attention, and not call me a dreamer."

"Sorry Mel. Sit down, and I'll bring it in. Take the forks."

"Deal."

Okay, one more thing. He's... well... decorative. Tall, strong. Not much of a chest, but stunning arms. Must be the guitar, I guess. Rugged smile, deep eyes. Alright?

"You want a beer?" he called to me from the kitchen this time.

"Yes please, Rob."

"Well, bloody come and get it. I've got my hands full here. I'll have the lager."

"Yeah, alright. So much for sitting down."

"Well, don't want you putting on weight."

"Weight?"

"Teasing, Mel."

Mid twenties is a good time, I think. We had both been in a few relationships, and we knew that even this sort of arrangement needs work, and compromise, and we gave it lots. In between, we gave each other shit about everything.

"Oh God, this is really good, Rob. What is it?"

"Huh? Oh, I don't know. This. That. Chilli sauce?"

"No thanks. It's quite hot enough."

"Is it?"

"I think you've burnt out your taste buds."

"I know I've burnt out my wallet, Mel."

"What do you mean, Rob?"

"Oh, sorry. Thinking out loud. I guess I should say though. We're just not getting anywhere with the band. Money wise I mean. We're having a ball, but just not making a buck."

"Oh."

"Don't look too worried. It's not a problem with the rent. Well, not yet."

"You going to have to get another job?"

"I've thought about it Lindy. But I just don't see how I can manage. It's all I can do to get through the night now. If I had to work days, I think I'd keel over."

"Hmmm. You want another beer?"

"Nah, better not. I need to drive downtown tonight. Barry's car isn't going. God, more expense."

"So really, you need a job where you can nod off."

"Yeah. You don't see those advertised often."

"Umm... Rob?"

"Yup."

"You know what I work at?"

"Vaguely Mel. Research."

"Sleep research."

"Yep, I did know that."

"Rob, you're obviously tired now. We pay people to come and sleep at the lab. Not much, but..."

"You pay them?"

"... it's better than nothing... Yep."

"Oh, shit, why didn't you say?"

"I just did. You interested?"

"Hell yes. But it would have to be during the day."

"That's alright. Actually, my team is looking for someone to do just that."

"They are?"

"They are. Tell you what, leave that mess, get off to work, and I'll clean up here. Monday, I'll check with the boss, and see if you can apply. No promises."

"Oh, Mel, you're an angel."

"No Rob, it's a white coat I wear, not a pair of wings."

"Same thing. Gotta go. I guess you'll be asleep in the morning then, being Sunday?"

"Yes, I will. Thanks."

"I won't make you breakfast then."

"No thanks."

"Alright, see ya, Elin."

"No. Not Elin."

"Okay."

It snowballed from there. Monday morning, we had Rob visiting down at the lab for his first sleep. For the initial session, we normally don't attach anything. There are enough distractions for them to get used to. It's a minor miracle if they sleep at all.

Rob was a natural. We showed him around the room, and let him see what we did there, showed him the video cameras, and explained the rules.

"So you chicks sit at the other end of the cameras, and watch me on the video screens?"

"Well, someone does, Rob. Might not be a 'chick'."

"Not?"

"Rob, it's research. We need to find out things about how you sleep. In any case, this time, no instruments. We'll just have a look at the screen now and then, to check that you are okay."

"And I just lie down here and go to sleep?"

"Yep, that's it. You can read, or watch TV for a while, if you like."

"Listen Mel, you know, I generally sleep in..."

"The nude. Yes, I saw you, if you recall."

"Yeah. I did apologise."

"Doesn't matter. You caught me one morning as well, remember?"

"You had knickers on."

"You shouldn't even have noticed."

"Oh, yeah. Of course. I didn't. You know I didn't."

"Neither did I." We were both grinning now.

"I would have noticed, I must admit..."

"Yes, Rob?"

"... but I was staring at your breasts."

"Hmmm. Enough of that now. These ears have walls."

"I'll be good."

"Keep your underwear on, Rob."

"Not sure I can sleep, then."

"Try."

"So that's it? Nothing else I need to know?"

"You just need to remember that you are being recorded, so don't do anything you wouldn't want on tape."

"Like jerking off?"

"Definitely like jerking off. You'll be on the Internet in twenty minutes."

"Okay. Well, night Mel."

"Night Rob. Sweet dreams."

I left him there then, and headed for the control centre. I wasn't on monitoring that day. I had to process some tapes and data from the previous night, so after I checked that everything was alright, I walked out to the communal office, and started work. Half an hour later, I went back to get a coffee, and Rob was asleep.

That was the last time I was in the office until after dark. The numbers I was processing for the previous night weren't making sense, and I had to check the machinery against the tape, to make sure there hadn't been a screwup. It took my whole day, and then some.

When I arrived back in the office, Stephanie was just closing down the session on Rob. He'd already left. I received an enthusiastic report on his first monitored sleep, and left for home, hoping he'd be there. It was time to give some more shit.

"Well, well, well. If it isn't the little celebrity." I'd caught Rob, just as he was walking out to his car.

"Celebrity? Why is that?"

He must have been oblivious to what had occurred that day, because he couldn't have hidden it. "You might be on the Internet after all, Rob."

"Huh? What for?"

"Your performance, of course."

"Performance? What are you talking about, Mel?"

"At the lab today. Remember I told you to keep your undies on?"

"Yep. And I did... Oh... But when I woke up..."

"Yeah, they were on the floor, weren't they?"

"Yeah. Hadn't thought about that. Oh, God, what did I do?"

"You took them off."

"Oh, Mel."

"Under the blankets."

"That's alright then. I put them back on under there too."

"Yep. You remember why you took them off?"

"Ah, nope. Oh, God!"

"You were... excited."

"No."

"Yes. I have a video tape in the lab with an interesting sequence, where you have a big boner, and are lying on your back. The bed looks more like a tent."

"Oh, no."

"I'm told."

"You haven't seen it?"

"No. I decided it would be better to be able to give you hell, and then take the high moral ground."

"Oh. Thanks?"

"Uh huh. They are in hysterics down there, you know."

"They are? Oh, Mel, am I banned now?"

"Banned? Don't be daft. You can guarantee there will be chicks watching the video the next time though. You should have taken my advice."

"I thought I did."

"You were wrong, Rob."

"So it seems. I have to go to work. I think I'm embarrassed, but I'm pleased it was you that told me, and not someone else."

"Have fun Rob. Next time, maybe jerking off would be a good idea. Beforehand, of course."

"Oh, God."

He'd left me another meal. Chicken something. It was nice too. I ate that, and cleaned up the mess, watched television for a while, and decided I needed a bath. I liked a hot deep bath, with a book to read, a cold drink, and no interruptions.

I got all of those things ready, locked the doors, shut off most of the lights, and retired to the bathroom. As the bath filled, I took off my clothes, and threw them at the laundry hamper, missing as usual, and knowing that I'd need to pick them up later. I couldn't be bothered right now though, and kept removing and throwing until I was down to my knickers.

I checked the water, and it still wasn't full enough, so I stood there, waiting a bit longer. Purely by chance, I looked over at the full length mirror, and caught sight of myself standing there, just wearing white knickers. My body was a study in contrasts, I guess. Deep black hair, down around my shoulders, pale white skin, not much darker than the knickers. I could see a darker patch through the front of the knickers though, my pubic hair being the colour you'd expect.

Suddenly, as I stood there, a thought popped into my head. This must have been what I looked like when Rob caught me the other morning, though my hair would have been wet. I stood up straight, and walked a couple of steps toward the mirror, trying to see what he would have seen. Not bad, I thought. Not stunning, but not bad.

The bath was full enough then, and I removed the knickers, watching myself in the mirror as I did it, and tossed them into the hamper as well. The mirror was both anti-fogging, and adjustable, so I moved it in such a way that I could see myself from in the bath, and climbed in. My eyes never left the glass, and as I relaxed my bare ass onto the bottom of the bath, I could see my breasts floating half out of the water, the nipples erect, and being caressed by the waterline. I was stunned at how abruptly I was turned on, and as I watched myself intently still, I moved slightly, so that my nipples would sink under the hot water, and then reappear, water dripping from them, a delightful tickling sensation passing through my body.

I kept the subtle movement up for a while, and then somehow the sensation changed, and I had to grab my nipples and rub them, frantically trying to erase the itchiness I had caused. The feel of my fingers only intensified the sensation, and it hung in the balance between irritating and irresistible as I stroked and fondled, squeezed and pinched.

I looked up at the mirror, and saw my busy hands on my breasts, my dark nipples surrounded by inquisitive digits of pleasure, and a higher level of arousal stirred, between my legs. Keeping one hand busy on my breasts, the other snaked its way down my chest, stomach, navel, and on to the strange feeling pubic hair, normally so dry and wiry, but currently wet, and ticklish. As I felt my way through the crop of hair, small bubbles escaped to the surface, as though my bush were fizzing somehow, which is how it felt.

I pressed on past there though, my fingers sliding close to my clitoris, but deliberately avoiding it, plunging on inside me, dipping deep and feeling the wet heaviness that genitals have underwater. My fingers spread my vagina open, and hot water rushed in, swirling somehow within, and sending shockwaves to my brain.

As my fingers explored weightlessly inside, and my other hand took care of my nipples, I could feel myself lifting over the edge, stunned at the speed, ecstatic with the feeling, and I came. Big, sudden, and deep, I came. My legs clamped on my hand, my nipples suddenly wished nothing to do with my fingertips, and I shuddered to orgasm, my body lurching in the bath, water spilling as I jumped carelessly, my body out of control for the moment. I tried to relax, forcing my body back where it was, making my fingers remain motionless inside myself, and I opened my eyes.

I hadn't done it on purpose, but when my eyes opened, they were staring at myself, at the strange constriction of my facial muscles, at the outthrust breasts, the sweat, and the red skin. Watching myself deliberately now, I let my fingers move a little more, parted my knees, and started to stroke myself. I kept my eyes open, watching my own reactions in the mirror, wishing suddenly that I could see my vulva, and my fingers fucking it gently.

I daydreamed for a while, I guess, watching myself in the reflection, stroking myself with my fingers, and somehow my mind got back to Rob, and the stories about his erection. I'd seen his cock, as I said, but I'd never seen it erect. I wondered what it would look like, and thought about catching him leaving the bathroom, towel over his shoulder, hard-on poking holes in the air in front of him. I'd liked to have taken it in my hand, and rubbed it gently for him. I'd have liked for him to take it and rub me gently with it. I'd have liked him to be in the bath here with me, sliding it in and out of me slowly, patiently, carefully.

God, I could feel him doing it, my mind ignoring the fact of my fingers, and conjuring up this tall dark man hovering over me in the bath, his cock deep inside me, his lips on mine. I could feel his chest sliding across my nipples too, his voice in my ears, his breath on me, talking dirty, promising me how he would make me feel.

The whole time this was going on in my head, my eyes were glued to the mirror, and somehow I merged these two things together, and just became more excited. My fingers kept up the dance deep inside me, masquerading as Rob's penis, while my thumb escaped, and dragged repeatedly across my clit, hard with pleasure, loaded with energy, cutting with need.

The images in my mind, the reflection in front of my eyes, the feel of my fingers and thumb, and my other hand on my breasts, wasn't something I could take for long, and I shuddered to another sudden orgasm, stronger this time, deeper, and much longer. I collapsed in the bath, my whole body straining with contractions, and I finally closed my eyes, feeling rather than seeing now, and my body shook, over and over.

Eventually, I calmed down again. Whilst a part of me wanted to see if I could manage round three, the consensus was that I needed to stop, if for no other reason than to analyse what had happened. I slowly sat up, and removed the bath plug. That committed me to getting out, and I dried myself slowly, cleaned up the room, and stumbled to bed, tired suddenly, and slept.

I hadn't realised quite how much interest there was in the sleeping habits of my flatmate, and I was accosted on arrival at work on Tuesday. I took quite some pains to explain that we weren't 'like that', and that they'd seen more on the video tape than I ever had. They didn't believe me, which in turn made we wonder if my behaviour was making sense. I'd always been attracted to Rob, but after last night's adventures in the bathroom, I realised I really wanted something to happen.

Despite this, I had a really busy day, and largely blocked it from my mind, aside from an impromptu question and answer session at lunch. God, women are bad.

I finished late again, arrived home even later, and Rob had already left. He had made me some food though, so I ate that, and spent the evening in front of the television, before heading to bed reasonably early. And I slept. Soundly.

Wednesday started with a knock on my door. It was Rob, with a breakfast tray in his hand. I took it gratefully, and gave him my best quizzical look.

"Oh, well Melinda, I just got back from work, and..."

"Yes?"

"Well, my car is out of gas..."

"Uh huh."

"And... well I'm scheduled for another sleep at your lab."

"Oh, you want a lift?"

"Oh, yes please."

"Rob, you don't need to make me breakfast, just to get a ride to the office."

"No?"

"No, of course not, silly."

"Well, I don't mind."

"Neither do I, Rob, but don't feel compelled. Just do it if you want."

"Okay. I want."

"That's better. Lemme eat this, and then I'll be out."

"Cool."

"That'll give you time."

"Time, Melinda?"

"To jerk off." His face turned a fascinating purple, but he stood still, staring at me.

"Can't," he stated simply, after a delay.

"Can't?"

"Already did." I didn't think his face could go redder, but it did.

"You didn't have to tell me that, you know."

"I know Mel, but I was trying to see if it was more embarrassing for you, or for me."

"Oh. And?"

"I lost."

"Ha ha. It's not your fault. You know I have three older brothers. I'm not easily disconcerted. And a little bit of wanking is nothing. Relax."

"See what I mean? I'll leave you to your breakfast then."

He left the room, and I tipped my head back, and sighed. I might have been able to pretend it meant nothing, but I was hot as hell. If it wasn't for the wonderful breakfast tray sitting on my lap, I'd have taken care of myself on the spot. That would, of course, have given me the opportunity to tell Rob afterwards, and I wondered if I would have had the guts to. As it was, I ate the breakfast instead, and we both missed out.

The ride to work was uneventful. Rob was tired, and my mind was on the subtle change going on in our relationship. A change I liked, though I was unsure exactly where it was going. I wondered if Rob knew. In fact, if he even realised it was happening.

When we arrived at the lab, I left Rob to find his own way back to the sleeping room, and his coterie of lab-assistant groupies, and settled in to analyse another set of tapes.

The day passed without any excitement, the girls expressing disappointment both at lunch and again at the end of the day. Rob had slept without any of his previous antics, and I felt smug, knowing the likely reason, but vaguely disappointed as well, because I fully intended to look at the tapes this time, as the processing had been assigned to me for the next day.

Rob hung around after he got up, and I gave him a lift, not home, but straight to his gig for the night, in a dingy hotel just outside the red light district. I gave him an appropriate amount of shit about that, and informed him about how disappointed his fan club were. He responded that perhaps they could have assisted a little more if they wanted something to happen. I promised, tongue firmly in cheek, to let them know.

Home again, quick dinner, and out to the movies with a friend. Back home, bed, sleep. Not exactly exciting, I know. Alright, well not straight to sleep. He'd excited me even by not doing anything exciting. I got myself off without delay or fanfare. Then I slept, images of him in my mind.

Rob wasn't home when I got up on Thursday morning, and I was unreasonably irritated at the thought that maybe he was in someone's bed. He proved my suspicions unfounded by turning up a few minutes later, smelling of beer and cigarette smoke, not women.

"Morning Mel. My God, what a night. We had to play until daylight. Those working girls don't come out until all their clients go home."

"I'm surprised to see you then. Didn't you get any offers?"

"Well, of course I did, but there are lines I won't cross, and they didn't look too safe."

"The girls?"

"No Lindy, the boys... Of course the girls."

"Oh."

"Well, must be good to know you don't have to work this morning."

"That's not work, Mel. It's money for jam. But I'm pleased to stay at home, just the same."

"Yeah, it's not exactly private, is it?"

"Yeah, I don't have to jerk off before I sleep here."

"You telling me you don't?"

"Have too, you mean Mel?"

"You know what I mean."

"Oh, I DO, but I don't HAVE to. Alright?"

"You didn't go all red-faced like yesterday, anyway."

"I only blush AFTERWARDS!"

"Ha ha. Yeah, me too. Gotta go Rob."

"Yeah, this happens to me all the time. The conversation turns to sex, and then they leave."

"You want to work on your bedside manne. See ya."

"Oh, alright, go on then."

"I will. Oh, guess what I have to do today, Rob?"

"No idea. Tell all."

"I have to analyse the tapes from one of our sleepers."

"Oh."

"You."

"Really? You said I didn't...?"

"No, I'm told you didn't. Really. Gotta go."

"Let me know how you go. I'll be gone when you get back, so it will have to be tomorrow morning.."

"Okay."

I sat down at my desk, excited. This wasn't at all normal. I enjoyed my work, and I guess I was just geeky enough to get something of a buzz from analysis and collation of the tests, but excitement was different.

As soon as I inserted the tape, things started to go off beam. At first, the machine wouldn't go, and then when it did, the speed was all wrong. These things are built for variable speed playing, so we can slow-motion over the interesting stuff, and skip an hour or two at a time when things are boring, but this time, the speed readout was saying one thing, and the machine was doing something else. We'd had problems like this before, and I gave it a sharp thump on the side, causing the speed readout to flash and disappear. Groaning now, I thumped it again, and I must have used just the right amount of force, because the display shimmered and then reappeared at the right speed.

The machine behaved for a couple of hours then, the only problems caused by my freeze-framing Rob, and staring at him.

Around ten, I paused the tape, typed in some settings off the machine, and went to get some coffee. The way the player works, it would hold the pause for a few minutes, and then switch to 'stop', just like a home player.

A few minutes later, I returned to my desk, coffee in hand, and looked in horror at the wide tape slowly oozing from the player, and falling to the floor in front of my desk. Just as I got there, the flow of tape stopped, and the player started to make a strange noise inside.

I dropped my coffee to the desk, plopped into my chair, and hit the eject button. Nothing. I slammed all the other buttons, and achieved only a sore hand. The noise continued, and an unpleasant burning smell floated from the machine. These tape players left part of the tape cassette sticking out, so in desperation I grabbed it, and tried to remove it. The cassette wouldn't come out, so I gave it a really good tug, and it popped from the player, splaying brown tape in all directions, and I dropped it to the desk, wondering how much of it I could recover.

I turned in my chair to grab the phone, and get some technical assistance, and promptly tipped my coffee right over the tape. I leapt up from the desk, just in time to avoid coffee falling on me, and helplessly watched it seep into the tape cassette.

Phoning the help desk now, I managed to get one of the AV boys to come and have a look. He only took one glance at the tape, with coffee dripping out of the bottom of it, and shook his head. "Got a rubbish bin there Melinda?"

"Oh, come on Mark. Can't you try to..."

"No."

"But it's..."

"Stuffed." He proceeded to tug the strands of tape from the player, snapping them as he went, sighing in a professional way. "We'll have to service the machine. I'll try to get it looked at, but you won't get it back today."

"Well, can you let me have a ..."

"Spare? Nope. None left. These things all need to go to the tip, you know."

"Oh, I know."

"So you might as well do something else. First off, get some more coffee."

"Yeah, I suppose."

"And a cloth Melinda. You don't want coffee all over your desk. I'll take this player, and see you later. Probably tomorrow."

"Arrrgh! Alright Mark, and thanks for trying to help."

"I AM helping, Melinda. Just not fast enough for you."

Needless to say, all the excitement was gone now, along with the tools of the job, and the motivation. I got a cloth, cleaned up the mess, let the supervisor know, packed up, and went home.

An afternoon watching soaps on television convinced me that working in the daytime was a good idea, but also gave me a chance to distance myself from the events of the morning.

Around three, I phoned the friend who had gone to the movies with me the other night, and convinced her we needed another dose. I was in the mood for a chick flick.

We went out for a meal first, and then watched the movie. It was great, and I laughed all the way through, but I couldn't help feeling the leading man looked a little like Rob, and damned if the leading lady wasn't at least vaguely like me, in a Hollywood sort of fashion. As a direct result, the sex scenes were stunning!

I drifted home again about midnight, after a couple of drinks, and headed straight for bed. My emotions were rather jumbled, but the end result was a gentle sort of depression. I slept, though not well.

Friday morning was one of those that force you to be happy, even if you don't want to. The sun was shining, and I could hear birds chirping outside even before the alarm went off, and I was happy to be a part of the world.

That mood kept me going until I got to the kitchen to find Rob busy with a frying pan, the table set, and the radio playing punk classics from the Eighties. Hell of a way to start a Friday, right?

"Morning Miss Melinda."

"Morning Rob. That one take you long?"

"It was... what's the word?..."

"Weak?"

"No, extemporaneous."

"Jesus, boy, you been sleeping with a professor?"

"Not that I recall. I have, however, scored a two week gig. You like omelettes?"

"No!"

"Yes. At a pub that people actually come to."

"Great! Oh, I love omelettes."

"It is. And this is a celebratory breakfast. I was going to wake you when I got home, but..."

"But, Rob?"

"Hmm... but I didn't know if you might get the wrong idea."

"Oh."

"Yeah. Oh. Mel, I really like what we have here, and I wouldn't want to ruin it. Pepper?"

"Me neither. Yes please."

"And you might have thought something was up, if I woke you at four in the morning."

"Yeah."

"But, ummm... I was tempted to anyway."

"To tell me about the gig, right?"

"Yeah, that."

"Just that?"

"Oh, yeah. Well, maybe not just that."

"No?"

"No. I'd... umm... want to... umm... well... oh, ask you about how work went."

"Oh, really?"

"Yeah, with the tapes, yesterday. With my sleep. Yeah, that."

"Oh. Actually, it went pretty badly Rob."

"Oh, no, did I do something else embarrassing?"

"No, no, nothing like that." I sat there and explained to him, while he dished the omelettes, and sat down opposite me.

"So," he responded finally, "you need a new record of my sleep pattern?"

"Yeah, we'll have to get you in for another session, I guess."

"Oh, well, that's not so bad. Except..."

"Oh, except what?"

"Well, Mel..." He giggled at that. "Hell." A guffaw. "I'm not sure I have the time now. Not for a couple of weeks."

"They'll cope, I guess."

"But listen, lemme get this straight. You need to get a record of my movements over a normal sleep, right?"

"Yup."

"Would today do?"

"Can't be done. No room at the inn."

"But Lindy, we could do it here."

"Huh?"

"Well, you don't need to video it. You could just sit and watch."

"You want me to sit and watch you sleep?"

"Isn't that what you do for a living?"

"It is, Rob, but this is different, somehow."

"The only difference I can see is that I can be naked."

"Oh."

"Is that a problem?"

"Oh, and I don't have to jerk off first."

"That's a problem?"

"Don't HAVE to. Still CAN."

"Dirty bastard."

"Mel, you swore."

"What?"

"You said 'bastard'. You never swear."

"I do so."

"Never heard you in six months. You want that bit of omelette?"

"I'm stuffed. That was really nice, Rob. And congrats."

"Thanks. I'm serious about the sleeping."

"Really?"

"Yeah, of course. And I was just teasing about the jerking off."

"Uh huh."

Before I knew exactly what was happening, we'd left the kitchen in a horrible mess, and I was sitting in a chair, in Rob's bedroom, as he lay under the blankets, wriggling around to remove underpants, and throwing them over the other side of the bed.

I had phoned work to tell them I wouldn't be in, without exactly explaining why, and here I sat, in my dressing gown, with a clipboard, ready to record what was happening.

"Mel?"

"Yeah, Rob?"

"I'm not sleepy now."

"No."

"Maybe I should read?"

"Whatever you want."

"I think I will. Could you pass me that book?"

"What is that?"

"What?"

"That. On the front cover."

"Oh, that's... well, that's a woman."

"God."

"What?"

"You need to get some real books."

"This is a real..."

"Never mind, Rob. Read."

"Really Mel, it..."

"Just read."

"Alright."

"Good."

I sat quietly, looking around the room, taking in Rob's belongings. Most of his things were at least vaguely familiar, but I'd only ever been in this room a couple of times, and it all seemed a little strange. He was a tidy boy though, I gave him that. He had things all sorted on his desk, not like mine at all. His clothes were away in the wardrobe or wherever. I couldn't see them, anyway. I finished my catalogue of the room, and glanced back down to Rob.

I wished I'd had a camera, because the book had fallen down on his face, and he was fluttering the pages with his breath, his lips making a strange noise. I hesitated for a moment, thinking how if this happened at the lab, we would just leave him, and record the silliness for posterity as well, and then I stood, and removed the book, closing it carefully, and replaced it on the shelf.

I sat myself back in the chair, marked the time, and a few details on the clipboard, and settled in for a long day. It was quiet and warm in the room now, and so still that any sounds were amplified in my mind, and I jumped whenever Rob moved.

I must have managed about an hour of monitoring correctly, when the dark stillness became too much, and I dozed in the chair, dropping the clipboard on the floor without noticing.

I work with a start at some point a couple of hours later, and while I was realising that I'd just ruined another day of observation, I was playing back the dream I'd had. It was the scene from that movie, but this time the characters really were Rob and myself. I must have blushed then, thinking of the sex scene.

I sat quietly for a long time, thinking of what Rob had said at breakfast, how it seemed like he was going to say something and then backed out. Of my thoughts about him in the bath the other night; my dream just now.

Then I sat there, staring at him in the bed, at his slack face, at the peacefulness. I could see the outline of his body under the blankets, his arms and legs. Suddenly my attention was taken by the interruption of the flow of the blankets. Rob was lying on his back again, and in the centre of the bed, just where you would think it would be, the blankets were lifted by what seemed to be an enormous erection.

I'm not sure if you can understand the conflict here. I had, ostensibly, undertaken to sit here so that I could record Rob's movements over the course of his sleep, take notes, and analyse them later. A professional set of tasks, and here I was staring at Rob's penis, wondering what it looked like under there, and thinking about having a look.

I sat rigidly, trying to work it out, and eventually decided that the analysis wasn't valid anyway, with my having fallen asleep, so what the hell? Hardly justification, I know. Too bad.

I leaned forward carefully, just enough to lift the blankets at the side, and peered in. I couldn't see a thing, there wasn't nearly enough light in the room. Throwing caution aside now, I reached bavl, and flicked the curtain, just enough to let some of the midday sunlight through. Then I lifted the blanket again, and could see much more clearly. The girls at the lab weren't kidding. He was certainly well endowed. Veins stood out on the side nearest me, and it had a slight curve to it. I wasn't sure if the curve was caused by the blankets, so I lifted them a little higher, taking the weight off him, and it stood up a little more, hard, and still slightly curved.

I was beyond reason now, and flipped the blankets aside, leaving Rob lying there in the dim light, his whole body on view, but my attention taken by one part, bursting from the dark hair on his thighs. I wanted to touch it, to feel the heat from it, to stroke and fondle, to tease it. I must have not completely lost my mind though, because I sat back in my chair instead, and stared.

Without conscious thought now, I lifted my feet up and put them on the chair, my knees apart, my gown falling to the side, my knickers tight between my open knees, and as I watched Rob's hard cock, my hands went down, tickling lightly across the damp cotton of my knickers, feeling the tension, my body shivering at my own touch.

I closed my eyes then, and my right hand slid down inside the cotton, over the wiry bush, and directly on to my wet, sensitive, hard clit. My other hand was stroking my nipples through my nightgown as I slid a finger and thumb either side of my clit, squeezing it gently now, and sliding almost frictionlessly across the top, causing a shiver every time, stroking faster and faster, rougher, harder.

As I tried desperately to keep quiet, my fingers sent me over the edge, and I came with an urgency I'd never felt before, my body shaking, my fingers clamped between my legs, nipples suddenly out of bounds, sweaty, vital, relieved.

My body slowly calmed down, and I was able to stand the movement of my hand as I removed it from my now soaked knickers, still sending shudders through my body. I put my feet back down on the floor, sat up, and opened my eyes.

Rob was lying, motionless, his cock hard pointing up in the air. I could see a drop of liquid on the very tip of it, and as my eyes travelled up his body, over his handsome chest and on up to his face, I realised that he wasn't sleeping peacefully, dreaming of some imaginary woman. He was awake, and staring straight at me.

"Oh, hi Rob." I couldn't think of anything else to say.

"Hmmm..."

"I... I guess I better go. Oh God."

"You know, before, when I was talking about jerking off, that was about me, not you."

"Yeah. I better just..."

"But..."

"Yeah?"

"... when you do it, it's a whole lot more interesting."

"How long have you been awake?"

"The classic answer to that is 'long enough'."

"Oh, God. Listen, I know this isn't what you expect from a flatmate... I don't know what came over me."

"Well, you did."

"Huh?"

"You came over you."

"Oh, listen, please don't laugh at me, Rob."

"Wasn't."

"What then?"

"I was laughing with you. Or at me."

"Oh."

"Listen, at breakfast..."

"Yeah, I'm sorry."

"... I was trying to say something, but just couldn't manage it."

"Oh. What was that?"

"Mel, I think you are gorgeous."

"But?"

"No but. Look, I'm not much good at words now. Just get in the bed, would you?"

I literally leaped from the chair across to the bed, and grabbed him, pulling him close to me, losing my clothing somehow, and snuggled in close, chest to chest, trying to touch as much of his skin with as much of mine as I could manage. We lay like that for a long time, until I pushed him onto his back, and crouched over him, my mouth covering his face with kisses, preventing him from speaking.

Eventually, I needed some other parts of his body, and I lifted my mouth, pressing a finger to his, to remind him not to speak, and I wriggled a little further down his body, until I found what I was looking for.

Within sight of my target now, I could afford to wait, and I slid myself back and forth across the tip of his cock, my slipperiness lowering the friction, his hardness pushing all my buttons, and then, just as he least expected it, I plunged myself over him, impaling him, and pressing down, hard. I was right, he was big, and I could feel myself stretching wonderfully, a marvellous tightness contrasting with the excited slipperiness of it all.

I sat there for a moment, taking in the feeling, and then, my eyes locked on his, I started to move, drawing myself up slowly, almost letting him escape before plunging back in, taking all of him, pushing slowly but firmly, willing him in further. I did this slowly a few more times, and then, as his hips started to move in harmony with mine, I increased the speed, pumping faster and faster, the long strokes quick and sudden now, the feeling of impalement coming so fast that the feeling piled on one another, and I could feel myself get close to coming again, and I could feel Rob was close as well, his cock so hot and hard within me. I tilted my pelvis back slightly so that there was a little more pressure closer to my clitoris, and as I felt his movements change slightly, groans escaping us both at once, and we orgasmed together, a screaming, sweating, pulsating beast of pleasure, and I collapsed on top of him, our sweaty chests falling together, my breasts pressed deliciously into him, our breaths panting and puffing together, our eyes still on one another.

An eternity passed as we lay there, watching each other, and saying nothing, as the sweat cooled, and our bodies stopped shaking. Then, arms around each other, you can guess what we did. We slept.

Every time we woke up, we made love again, and we talked. We ran to the toilet, and grabbed food from the kitchen, and we ran back to the bed, and made love again. We got to know each other's bodies, and discussed what mattered, and told each other our dreams, and made love again.

I lost count of the number of times I came that weekend. Rob's cock, and fingers, and tongue were too much for me. I lost myself in an endless succession of orgasms, and returned the favour just as enthusiastically.

By the time was got to Sunday, we were both worn out, and sore, and we agreed that we were both unable to handle any more, and then we slept. Of course, early Monday morning, we woke up again.

I still do sleep research, and Rob still plays in a band. He still cooks for me, and cleans the bathroom. I still go to chick flicks with my friends. But afterwards, we go and listen to Rob's band, and I get to take him home, late, and screw him senseless.

And then we get to sleep. Together.