Suddenly Horny (Book 1 of "The Taboo Transformation")

By Alana Church

Infuriated when short-sighted bureaucrats decide to halt her research into genetic manipulation, Dr. Jane Richardson decides to test her technique on herself, injecting herself with the genes of a beautiful young actress.

Now her body is changing, her libido is growing, her chest is expanding, and no one around her is safe from her carnal urges. Because Jane Richardson is...SUDDENLY HORNY.

~~~~~ PG Excerpt ~~~~~

“The kids are gone," Jane said. "They won't be back for hours. We have the whole house to ourselves.” Below the water, their groins were touching, the rough cloth of his shorts pressing against the sheer red material of her bikini. Was it only her imagination, or did she feel a stirring as the material shifted?

“Jeff?”

Slowly, like the tail of a shy kitten, his arm came around, moving through the water. She felt his hand press into the small of her back, his fingers spread wide. Gently, he pulled her against him, until they were molded together from chest to thighs. Then he lowered his head to hers and took her mouth in a long, passionate kiss.

Oh!

His mouth was firm, but his lips were gentle. He tasted, faintly, but not unpleasantly, of sweat and grass and chlorine from the pool. She raised a hand to his smooth cheek, clean-shaven that morning. Her skin burned where it touched him, and below her waist she could feel the evidence of his arousal. Even through layers of cloth and pool-water, his stiffness was more than evident, and she pressed into him, wanting to merge with him, wanting him to merge with her, to be inside her.

Her lips opened, and she let her tongue glide over his lips, the tip darting out, asking for entry. With a whispered moan he opened to her, and she wrapped her arms hard around his back as their mouths and tongues began to dance together, exploring feverishly.

He was so gentle. Soft and sweet and kind, but the same time undoubtedly, exuberantly male. She ran her hands down the strong muscles of his back, dipping below the waistband of his shorts until she could grasp the firm globes of his rear. Her fingers caressed him, first stroking, then kneading, then dipping lower. When her exploring fingertips brushed him he jerked in her arms, his mouth parting from her with a muffled gasp.

“There's nothing wrong with me there,” he said, then caught his breath as her hand moved between their bodies, seeking out another sweet treasure. "Or there."

“Let me be the judge of that,” she admonished. Her fingers, skilled in the way of surgery, made short work of the buttons of his shorts. In seconds she had gained entry and her hand eagerly found what her imagination had dreamed about. There. Yes, there he was. “No. Nothing wrong at all.”

“Jane...” he breathed. She looked up to meet his eyes. “Don't take this as a complaint, but if you keep that up, you're going to have something worse than grass clippings in the pool.” He gave a slight nod to his right arm, which was responsible for carrying both their weights. “And my arm is starting to cramp.”

“I wouldn't consider it to be worse,” she mused, clinging to him tightly. She could not get enough of the feel of his body on hers. “I mean, it is a perfectly normal bodily function. And judging by some of the sounds I've heard out here, it wouldn't be the first time it's happened.”

But she decided to take pity on him. “However, there are better places where we can make love. My bedroom, for instance.”

With an athletic twist, she was out of the pool and seated on the rim. “Come on,” she said, climbing to her feet. “Let's go inside.”

• Language: English
• Publisher: Boruma Publishing, LLC
• Release date: Aug 2, 2016
• ISBN: 9781370827862

Alana Church

Born and raised in Illinois, Alana attended the University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign, graduating with a degree in Education in 1994. She soon found out that the teaching life was not for her, and after a series of adventures has settled down in the Chicago suburbs, where she works for a telecommunications company.Alana lives alone, surrounded by books, pictures, a pile of story ideas, and a turtle named Pedro.

Book preview

Part One of The Taboo Transformation

Suddenly Horny

G:\Data\_Boruma Publishing\Boruma Publishing\Alana Church\_Suddenly\01 - Suddenly Horny\images\Suddenly Horny inner.png

By Alana Church

Copyright 2016 Alana Church

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~~ All characters in this book are over 18. ~~

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Doctor Jane Richardson stared at the computer screen, torn between disbelief and rage.

"…we agree the therapy proposed in Project Pygmalion holds much promise and the preliminary tests are encouraging. And also that, in the future, genetic modification of humans may become standard practice. However, the current political climate, both in the United States and worldwide, is far too conservative to overcome where such therapies are concerned.

"Therefore, we are ordering this project to be placed on hiatus until such time as the Science Advisory Board sees fit to revisit the issue. Dr. Richardson will, of course, hold title to such patents as she has already registered (see subsection C), and will share in the profits this project will generate, if and when it becomes an approved medical procedure in the future.

"For the time being, all collected genetic samples from the individuals who have generously donated to this project are to be destroyed. New samples will be collected if Pygmalion is revived.

"Yours Sincerely,

Dr. Gustavo Aguilar

Vice President of Research and Development

Chairman, Science Advisory Board

Darwin Pharmaceuticals and Laboratories

June 24, 2016

Jane shook her head, her short fingernails biting into her palms. Six years! Six years of research, six years of progress, six years of incredible discovery of what was possible where manipulation of the  human genome was concerned. Six years, until she and her team had been on the verge of a breakthrough that would make the discovery of antibiotics look like a child doodling with crayons.

And these timid, bureaucratic idiots were canceling her project! Oh, they might give lip service to it merely being placed on hiatus. But she had been working in the research field long enough to know what that really meant. The project was scrapped, consigned to the dustbin, while other companies would have the opportunity to take advantage of their timidity. Aguilar and the so-called Science Advisory Board had never been fully committed to Pygmalion in the first place. She wondered dully what incident had pushed him from half-hearted support to pulling the plug.

And the gutless cowardice of doing it now! Late on a Friday afternoon when every executive she could plead her case with would already be out on the golf course or on their way to their beach houses or weekend homes. She herself, thinking approval for submitting Pygmalion to the FDA for formal clinical trials was a mere formality, had been due to start a long-overdue vacation. The tests in the lab had been so overwhelmingly positive she hadn't been able to imagine any other result. But now, by the time she got back, Pygmalion would be all but forgotten. Another project sent to the Island of Misfit Toys.

She glanced around her spotless research lab, safely tucked into a corner of a nondescript office complex in suburban Minneapolis. Her assistants were getting ready to head home for the weekend. Several refused to meet her eyes, having somehow already heard through the grapevine that something she had dedicated her life to had become a victim of internal office politics.

She couldn’t bear to sit at her desk any longer. One more minute and she would lose her temper entirely, and start heaving coffee mugs and centrifuges through the plate-glass windows at one end of the brightly-lit room. She stood and stalked out, her long legs carrying her rapidly down the hall, past the employee lounge, until she entered the unisex bathroom reserved for department heads. She slipped into a stall and sat, her head in her hands. She took a deep breath, then another, trying to calm herself, to blunt the bitter edge of disappointment.

It wasn’t the financial loss that hurt so badly, although Pygmalion, if it was ever marketed, would probably make her a millionaire dozens of times over. But she already had more money than she knew what to do with, thanks to lucrative windfalls from other, earlier successes. Rather, it was the betrayal by an organization she had come to trust, and the brutal way hope had been extinguished for so many people who would never even be aware of the disease-free future which had been snatched away from them.

The door opened and closed, admitting two figures. She kept quiet as she watched them warily through the crack in the stall wall.

How’s it going, Tim? one asked. She recognized the voice of Jack Reynolds, the lead researcher on another project.

Not bad, man, Timothy Chang replied. Big plans for the weekend?

Sure do. I’m taking Sheryl up to Lake of the Woods. And if she isn’t walking bowlegged by Sunday night, I’m not doing my job.

Jane grimaced. Pig.

Hey, Tim said. Did you hear about Richardson’s project getting the ax?

Sure did. Jack’s voice was smug. I don’t know what she was thinking. The board has been hinting at her for months that it was a no-go. I don’t care how revolutionary her gene-splicing technique is. There’s no way it would be approved for human use. The fucking liberals can’t even tolerate GMO crops. They call it ‘frankenfood.’ And a lot of religious people think that any sort of genetic modification is interfering with ‘God’s Plan.’

Poor old Plain Jane. Didn’t you two hook up at the Christmas party last year?

Don’t remind me. She had a few too many and got out on the dance floor. You remember that red dress she was wearing?

Not really.

Well, she’s got those long legs. And I wanted to see if they went all the way up. Jack laughed coarsely. Didn’t take much convincing to get her up to my room. But once I got her clothes off, I might as well have been fucking a board. No. Worse. You can at least lube up a board. Slip some lard around a knothole and go at it.

Dude, man. Stop. Tim sounded disgusted. Whether it was by Jack’s sexism or his crudity Jane couldn’t tell. Her eyes brimmed with tears of helpless rage.

Well, Jack went on blithely, she was flat as a board and dry as the fucking Sahara. It’s like her pussy didn’t even know what to do. And her tits! She doesn’t have any, man. I knew she didn’t have much of a chest, but Jesus, it was like she was a ten year old boy up there. Decent nips, maybe. But nothing else. I mean nothing. I don't know why she even bothers to wear a bra around the office. She sure as hell doesn’t need to.

All right. Forget I asked. The sound of running water came from the sinks, then the sound of the door opening and shutting.

Jane stumbled out of the stall, only to see Tim still standing in front of the mirror, drying off his hands with a paper towel. He looked at her, then away, shamefaced.

Jane. Jesus. I’m sorry. I didn’t know you were in here. Jack’s not a bad guy, really, he-

He’s not? Really? You could have fucking fooled me, she spat. Turning on her heel, she strode out of the room.

*****

Why are you surprised? It’s nothing you haven't heard a hundred times before.

I’m not. Not really. I knew