Chapter 10

Make a Move or Get Off the Road

Kenna Speaks

I heard the commotion out in the hall and quickly realized that Greg was out in that general direction. It occurred to me that the two were connected. Wandering out into the hall, Greg House was sprawled on the floor and a wobbly Doug trying to kick him while his brunette date did her best to pull him away. There was a nice crowd by this point. I was so pissed at Doug that all I could think about was hurting him.

Doug was still shouting, "You jerk, it was you, you slept with her!"

Making my way to Greg, I knelt down to see if he was ok and then glared back up at Doug. My body was shaking so hard from anger; I had to balance myself by leaning on Greg. "Yes, yes, Greg House gave me the orgasms that you couldn't. He touches me and I have an orgasm, he looks at me and I have an orgasm. I dream of him and I have an orgasm. So when you and I slept together, I expected some fireworks, it didn't have to be great fireworks but after three tries, I didn't even get a Roman Candle. So get away from him. I need him in good shape for tonight, because I want an orgasm!" There was a lot of snickering, chuckling and a few belly laughs, but did it stop me? No. I delivered the humiliation with perfect pitch.

Doug and his date left the party and so did we. In the car, my jaw ached from being clenched in silence. I should have let Greg handle the altercation, because maybe then he could have calmed Doug down. Doubtful though, since we are talking about Greg House.

"Greg, I am so sorry. I should have kept my mouth shut. Do you want me to cycle over and apologize to Doug?"

"You need to stay away from Doug- maybe forever. I don't know whether to kiss you or give you a good spanking. Actually a spanking sounds too much like fun, but you get the picture. The whole hospital is going to know we slept together and, thanks to you, all the women will think I'm a sex machine. I don't know how I'm going to patch it up with Doug. Before your little outburst, I was going to lie to him, tell him we never slept together, but it's a little late for that. When you're angry, you're pretty damn ruthless."

"I'm pretty damn ruthless all the time. I'm just subtle about it."

Once home, he helped me with my coat and then he retrieved a bottle of Scotch. I walked up behind him and kissed him on the cheek, announcing, "I'm going to bed. I had a great time, despite what happened. Thanks."

House Speaks

I was right. The following day female nurses and doctors were sucking up to me, smiling, leaving their phone numbers in my desk, on my locker and several even slipped them into my pocket, their hands lingering where they shouldn't. Being an all American male, I took a few, maybe more than a few, up on their offers. Seeing my success, a few males asked for pointers. I told them to get a book on anatomy-it was that simple. For the next few weeks I got more ass than a toilet seat. But I soon found that wasn't necessarily a good thing. The information snowballed, the more orgasms I gave, the more phone numbers I got. I was the Orgasmatron. But it gets old and expectations run high. You feel like you have to prove yourself to each woman that you bed. It was just too much pressure that I didn't need.

I didn't see Kenna much because she was finishing her dissertation and getting ready for her oral exams. We'd bump into each other and occasionally share the bathroom. I'd shave while she was in the shower. She'd shout out something about dinner or her dissertation and I would try to make a witty retort. Sometimes she would laugh, but usually she didn't get my humor. The shower would stop, a hand would reach out and I'd drape a towel over it. When she got out, I'd stand there trying to catch a glimpse of her breasts. Here I was screwing two to three nurses each day and hers was the body I was trying to get a peek at.

The muffled cries coming from her room usually resulted in quick trips to the showers. I'm quite sure this was a sign she had discovered how to make herself happy at night. She had no gentleman callers, but one night I found her and a girlfriend, Meghan, watching videos together. I tried to make a move on the cute friend, but she smiled at me and shook her head.

"I know what you can do with that tongue…"

I looked over at Kenna who had a big Cheshire Cat grin.

"But I have a boyfriend."

"Well, if you ever need my services, I'll be here." I gave her my best Gene Simmons impression, but unfortunately my tongue doesn't extend very far.

It was the end of May when my life took a completely different turn. Kenna had presented her dissertation and was nervous-pacing and biting my head off nervous-while waiting for the results. One Saturday morning after getting off a twenty-four hour shift, I ran into the mailman as he was delivering our mail. He handed me several envelopes and I saw a letter from the Johns Hopkins Trustees addressed to Kenna. It had to be her results. Inside I called out for her, but she had gone out with Meghan to shop. I opened the results, read them and put the letter back in the envelope, taking it up to my bedroom, sticking it under my pillow as I lay down to grab a nap. Around 4:30 that afternoon I got up, grabbed the letter and put it in my pocket. Charging downstairs, I had just missed her. There was a note on the counter that said my dinner, a quiche, was waiting in the refrigerator and she was going out. I wasn't sure where she went, but around 7:30 p.m. she came home while I was watching television. Putting down her purse she gave me a smile, "Hey."

I nodded. "Where'd you go?"

"Movie. Meghan and I went and saw Ghost." She walked into the kitchen.

"Oh, there was a letter for you today; it had a huge Hopkins logo on it."

Kenna ran over to the table where we usually kept our mail. She pulled out a few envelopes and said, "There's nothing here."

I pulled the envelope out of my pocket and started waving it, "Maybe because I have it in my hot little pocket."

She squealed and ran towards me. I jumped up and ran to the dining area as she chased me, continuing into the living room and jumping over the couch.

"Greg, don't keep me in the dark! Let me have it."

"If ignorance is bliss, why not be orgasmic? I can tear it up."

She took a giant leap at me and we tumbled over with her on top and my arms pinned behind me with the letter. "Gregory House, you better give me that letter!" She was lying on top of me wiggling, trying to get her arms under me. My stomach hurt from laughing so hard. After staring down at me, she stopped wrestling and started pouting, "Gregory House, you're downright mean."

I rolled over, dumped her on the floor and held the letter over her. Now, I was having fun, lots of fun. But when I looked at how beautiful she was and how desperate she looked, it took all the air out of keeping her in suspense. I leaned in and kissed her. I shouldn't have done it, but I'm a sucker for her little pout. Kenna reached up and grabbed the back of my head and pulled me back down. I kissed her again and again as her fingers pulled my t-shirt up. I paused and took it off. I pulled her polo shirt up and over her head. The bland little bra she was wearing made me smile. Sensible. I could feel the excitement building with the speed of a bullet train. I had little control around her. When we made love I would smell her, feel how warm she was, how soft her flesh felt and how her body fit with mine. It drove me crazy. She didn't ask about her letter, she pulled down her pants and there were a pair of yellow cotton bikini briefs. Sensible. I got out of my trousers already at full salute. Rubbing me and before I could even think, I had penetrated her, moving so slow, grinding into her like a lazy piston, in and out.

I watched her pretty little face and blue eyes as she moved in waves under me. Kenna would look up at me and then close her eyes. Then, without warning, she rolled me over, both of us simultaneously, so that she was on top. She was in complete control, moving her hips in circular movements while still slipping up and down my shaft. The sensation was overwhelming and when she finally squeezed her vaginal muscles around my shaft, I was hers. I thrust up, penetrating her as deep as I could and then I lost control. I just kept riding the most intense feeling of pleasure I'd ever had. Yet when it became uncomfortable she kept riding.

"Enough! Enough...Stop!" I grabbed her hips and held her down to keep her from moving.

"No, no, Keep going, I'm almost there. Please!"

"Kenna, I can't. It's not going to cooperate just like that."

"Damn, I almost had an orgasm."

I pulled her down to my chest and cradled her in my arms, feeling between her wet thighs I continued to give her the stimulation she craved. It didn't take long and she hit the peak of her orgasm. I smiled as her forehead scrunched together and her mouth opened wide and then the scream came out, "Oh Fuuuuuuck!"

God, I loved it when she came, she didn't hold back, he whole body rocked with pleasure.

We were both spent and spread out on the floor. "Well Dr. Palmer, that was spectacular. Why don't we stop dancing around and you move your stuff into my room?"

"Doctor? I passed?"

"The Trustees are pleased to announce that you have achieved the necessary requirements and have been conferred the degree of Doctor of Science of Neuroengineering."

"Thank God. Let's celebrate!" she jumped around.

"Uh...wasn't that what we were just doing?" I asked.

"About that...it was great, but now I'm confused. You want me to move into your room? Why?"

I was deflated; my big romantic gesture was being questioned. I wanted to be funny, but I couldn't give her an answer that sounded flippant without also sounding condescending. The truth was that I wasn't sure why I wanted her to move in, I just wanted her close to me. "We have a good time, the sex is great and we could rent out the room to some poor sap for extra money."