LOSING
VIRGINITY
Extracts from a historic
e-mail exchange between the artist then known as Sharon Best and the acolyte
not yet known, even to himself, as Brantley Thompson Elkins
From:
Sharon Best <sharon@velorian.org>
To: [the
future Brantley]
Date: Friday,
February 8, 2002 1:49 PM
Subject:Re:
An immodest SF scholar
At 07:56
AM 2/8/2002 +0000, you wrote:
<<Just
thought of one Velorian base you might not have touched, but IÕd have to spend
weeks downloading and reading your stuff to be sure. I presume that besides
genetic science, your world must have some sort of culture music and art and
literature. I imagine that you could get some mileage out of an encounter
between a Velorian and some scholarly type who wants to learn about this sort
of thing — but who is also, obviously, desperate to fuck her.>>
Well,
thatÕs a pretty consistent reaction that men seem to have when meeting a
Velorian. Fucking her. Given that most Vels would be insulted if you didnÕt at
least offer to, perhaps there could be a story in helping her figure out a few
things, along with a few of the nuances of Terran sensibilities.
-----
ÒNo, of
course we canÕt make love here in the library, Sara. Besides, IÕm old enough to
be your father and youÕre my student.Ó
ÒI know
that, [Brantley],Ó she whispered seductively in his ear, the silky steel of her
perfect body pressing warmly against his, her eyes sparkling like blue diamonds
in the bright lights. ÒBut this is where I really like to do it. Among your
people.Ó
ÒThat may
be Ok on Velor, but this is Earth, Sara. Besides, the library is packed and
half my students are here and...Ó
ÒAnd
nothing,Ó she said as she lifted her long legs weightlessly from the floor to
wrap them around his waist. She kissed him passionately, her pheromones now
swirling as freely as her blonde hair as they embraced in the middle of the
University library, his feet lifting from the floor as she flew for joy,
spinning slowly around and around like an erotic Tinkerbell as the two lovers
to be floated upward as freely as birds, finally disappearing into the stacks
on the second floor.
A dozen
faces stared upward in shock, those closest to where the Professor had stood
swaying dizzily, drunk on the wings of arousal from inhaling the powerful
pheromones left behind. The stunned silence of the library was broken a moment
later by the sound of falling books and a feminine squeal of delight from
overhead. The resulting thump of two bodies falling to the floor and rasp of a
zipper being undone was interrupted as one of the students near the back of the
lobby began to clap. In seconds, everyone else joined in, a few whistles and a
cat call or two drawing the stem-faced Head Librarian, Ms. Williams, from her
corner cubicle to stand under the balcony edge.
A cascade
of long blonde hair floated down from the second floor as SaraÕs head
reappeared at the edge, lying on her back, her tiny blue dress draped over the
railing, her arms wrapped enticingly around Professor [Elkins]. Her long hair
drifted on the Aircon breeze to shimmer like a golden shower of loveliness just
above Ms. Williams head, as Professor [Elkins] and his dazzling new student began
the final phase of their research into the complexity of Terran social customs.
-----
Sharon
Best
-------
And it came to passÉ well
you know what came to pass. And now you know how. But it was a close call. I
was being played, and if IÕd known that I was being played by a guy, IÕd
probably have been too embarrassed to continue. It would have seemed a sleazy,
dig-in-the-ribs sort of thing. Or at least silly, like that Bill Cosby send-up,
back in the day, of athletes doing a deodorant commercial –
ÒLet-us-go-in-to-the-locker-room.Ó
Strange luck.
--B.T.E.