Lab Partners
Chapter 1

Copyright© 2016 by Unca D

Sex Story: Chapter 1 - Christopher "Kit" Wainwright is assigned Nichelle, a Black woman, as his lab partner. Hailing from an insular small town, he is uncomfortable interacting with her. As he gets to know her, his queasiness about her race dissipates and he begins respecting her. They become at first friends and then lovers. Kit is unsure how his friends and family will accept Nichelle. In the meantime her history-obsessed mother discovers that his and her families crossed paths over a century earlier.

Caution: This Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Consensual   Romantic   Heterosexual   Fiction   Interracial   Black Female   Oral Sex   Slow  

Kit Wainwright rummaged through his desk drawer and stuffed items into his backpack. He powered down his laptop, put it and a binder into his pack and zipped it closed.

“Jeezus,” his roommate said, drowsily, “do you have to make so much noise?”

“Sorry, Billy -- I have an eight AM bio lab ... Mondays and Fridays.” Kit picked up his pack, locked his door behind him and headed across campus.

“Kit ... Kit,” he heard someone calling him.

“Nichelle...” He regarded the young woman approaching him. She was petite, dark-skinned and with curly, shoulder-length black hair.

“Kit ... I heard you were asking some of the others if they wanted to switch lab partners. I’m offended, Kit. Is there something about me you don’t like?”

“It’s not about you, Nichelle. It’s about me.”

The two walked together toward the lab. “How is it about you?” she asked, “or, is it more about me? It’s because I’m Black, isn’t it?” Kit walked, eye on the pavement. “It is! Don’t tell me you’re one of those racists. Because if you are, I will switch partners in a heartbeat.”

They reached the building. Kit opened the door and held it for her. “I’m not a racist,” he replied. “I have nothing but good will toward your race ... but...”

“Hmm ... Whenever someone says, ‘I’m not a racist ... BUT... ‘ it means he’s a racist ... Or, maybe you’re sexist. Maybe you object to the fact I’m female.”

“No -- I don’t object to that.”

“Then, what is it? Tell me, Kit.”

They headed down the corridor to the biology lab. Kit opened the door and headed toward his assigned equipment locker. “It’s just...” he replied, “ ... I felt out of my comfort zone. I grew up in a small town out in the middle of nowhere ... population eleven hundred. I just don’t have any experience with ... colored folks.” He took a keyring from his pocket and unlocked his locker.

“I see ... It IS a race thing.” Nichelle unlocked the locker adjacent to his. From a tray she removed a dissecting needle. “For future reference, Kit -- the accepted term is Black. Colored sounds so ... nineteen-fifties.” She opened a bottle of lab alcohol, moistened a Kim-wipe with some and scrubbed the needle. “Give me your hand.”


“Just give it to me.” She took his hand, swabbed his finger with alcohol and jabbed it with the needle.

“OW!” he exclaimed.

“Don’t be a baby...” She squeezed a drop of his blood onto a piece of filter paper. “There ... no need for hospitalization.” Nichelle wiped the needle with more alcohol, swabbed her own finger and jabbed it. She squeezed some of her blood onto the filter paper; then she folded the paper small and opened it up again. “Okay -- which one is yours and which one is mine?” Kit put his finger in his mouth. Nichelle pinched the back of her hand. “It’s only skin deep, Kit.”

“Point taken...”

“If you really don’t want me as your partner, I’m fine with it. I wish you had come to me first. But, you’d be making a big mistake. I’m a competitor, Kit. I would kick your ass.”

“I apologize, Nichelle. I’m sorry. I really am. I feel like a real jerk, now.”

“I’m glad you feel like a jerk,” she replied.

“Why? Because I am one?”

She smiled. “Because, if you feel that way it means you might be a decent guy, after all. Still want a new lab partner? If you do, I won’t object.”

More students began filing into the lab. “No,” he said. “We’re in this together.”

“Good. I was happy when I learned you and I were assigned as partners. I know, last year, you’re the one always getting an A.”

“Not always,” he replied. “You pay attention to that stuff?”

“Of course. I told you -- I’m a competitor, Kit. I always size up my opponent.” She smiled. “Believe me, you are better off with me on your side.”

“If you’re on my side ... or, if I’m on yours ... Don’t you think it would be a good idea for us to trade phone numbers?”

“An excellent idea...” Nichelle reached into her bag for her cell phone.

The lab instructor stepped into the room. “Okay, settle down, people ... Take out your binder. This lab is about osmosis...”

Kit locked his locker and stuffed papers and his binder into his pack. Nichelle locked her locker, put her keys in a bag she slung across her shoulder. “Say,” he said, “I didn’t have time for breakfast.”

“Neither did I,” she replied.

“I was going to go to the quad snack bar and get a bagel or something. Want to join me?”


They walked toward the residence halls. “Nichelle ... I want to apologize again about this morning...”

“It’s okay, Kit. I’ve put it behind me. You should, too.”

“It’s just ... you were so gracious when you didn’t have to be.”

“I like to put myself in another’s position,” she said. “You see, Kit -- my great-grandfather was white.”



“On your mom or dad’s side?”

“On my mom’s side. I don’t know anything about my dad’s family. Mom and I lived with Great-Gram and Great-Gramp for a while, until Mom got her law degree and we moved to Philadelphia. Now, we don’t see her often. The white side of our family is actually quite big. I have lots of white second cousins so many times removed. On the other hand, my mom’s an only child.”

“Do you have siblings?” he asked.

“No. I’m an only child, too.”

“I imagine that means you were spoiled rotten.”

“I dunno about that,” she said. “Do you have siblings, Kit?”

“An older sister.”

“Anyway, when I was ten or so, Great-Gramp passed away. All my second cousins removed and all came to the funeral. I was the only Black child there ... and I felt awfully awkward. So I understand where you were coming from.”

They reached the snack bar in the basement of the central hub connecting four residence halls. Kit stepped to the counter. “Pumpernickel bagel with cream cheese and a small coffee,” he ordered. Nichelle ordered an all-grain bagel with veggie spread. She began to open her purse. “I’ll buy,” he said. “My way of making amends.”

“I told you -- it’s behind me. But I accept.”

They carried their orders to a table in the corner. Nichelle sat across from him. “How did you get the name Kit?” she asked.

“Short for Christopher.”

“I think of Kit Carson,” Nichelle remarked. “It’s the only other Kit I’ve heard of.”

“His name was Christopher, too.”

“For real?”

“For real. It’s a legitimate nickname. How did you get Nichelle?”

“Nichelle Nichols,” she replied. “She played Uhura on the original Star Trek.”

“Yeah, I know...”

“She was my mom’s role model when she was growing up. She named me after her.”

Kit regarded her. Nichelle was quite pretty. Her skin was the color of coffee with cream. She had a high and broad forehead, with a bit of a widow’s peak in her hairline. That, and a strong chin gave her roundish face a heart shape. Her mouth was wide, with full lips and she had a cute, up-turned nose.

“Gee, how old is your mom?” he asked. “If you don’t mind me asking. My mom is forty-two and she wasn’t even born when that show was on. That was back in the sixties.”

“Neither was my mom,” Nichelle replied. “They re-ran it weekday afternoons during the seventies and eighties. My mom was pretty young when she had me.”

“What about your dad?” Kit asked.

Nichelle shrugged. “I never met him. Mom raised me as a single mother.”

“She did a good job. You turned out okay.”

“Thanks ... Just you and me she always said. We’re really close.”

He finished his bagel and sipped his coffee. Kit massaged his finger. “Now my finger has a heartbeat,” he remarked.

“I’m sorry I jabbed you,” Nichelle said. “It was an impulse.”

“You definitely made your point,” he replied.

She giggled. “I guess I did.”

“This lab is the only class we’re in together,” he remarked, “aside from the big lectures.”

“Yeah, we’re both in different recitations.”

“Why did you decide to come here?” he asked.

“They gave me a good scholarship,” she replied.

“I do think they are trying to attract more minorities.” He sipped more coffee. “Do you ever have problems with profiling?”

“Do I ever! It’s always on my mind, Kit. I tell you, being Black and being female means I need to work four times as hard to prove myself.”

“I believe you.” He drained his coffee. “I’ve learned a lot from you already, Nichelle.”

“I’m pleased, Kit.”

“I’m looking forward to this year.”

Kit lay on his back in his bed, staring into the dark. “Billy?” he said.


“Do you have any Black friends?”


“Any African-American friends?”

“Here? I don’t know any here. They’re kinda scarce at this school.”

“Well -- we have one in my class ... Black girl named Nichelle ... Nichelle Cooper. She’s pre-med I think while I’m a chem major. She’s my partner in bio lab.”

“Your choice or hers?” Billy asked.

“Prof’s choice ... I had some doubts about her at first but we talked over coffee ... she’s real bright and a go-getter.”

“I think I’ve seen her,” his roommate remarked. “She’s petite, kinda cute, flat-chested...”

“Leave that observation to you, Billy-boy. I hadn’t noticed ... I hadn’t bothered to size up her boobs.”

“Small-titted girls can be hot, too,” Billy replied. “I’d hit on her.”

“I’m sure you would. Did you have Black friends in high school?”

“Where I grew up, as soon as you got into high school, your first order of business was to locate the biggest, meanest Black kid in your class and make friends with him ... or, at least the biggest, meanest one who’d tolerate me as a friend. What about you?”

“We didn’t have any Black kids in my school.”


“Not a one. We didn’t have any Asians, either. The town I grew up in had one Black resident -- an older guy who ran a garden center on the outskirts of town. My school was small -- only seventy-seven in my graduating class. Seventy-seven rednecks. I was one of twelve to go on to college.” Kit locked his fingers behind his head. “Did you ever date a Black girl?”

“No. Never. Why? Are you interested in Nichelle?” Billy asked.

Kit snorted. “I seriously doubt she’d want anything to do with a doofus like me ... socially, that is.”

“You know what I always say ... she can’t say yes if you don’t ask her.”

“She can’t say no if I don’t ask her, either.”

“You’re still smarting from your breakup with Lisa, aren’t you?”

“A bit. A guy can take only so much rejection.”

“You know how I figure it?” Billy asked.


“It’s their problem, not mine ... and their loss, too.”

“Right ... way to figure it ... Good night, Billy.”

Kit sat across from Nichelle in the quad lounge. He stretched and yawned. “This should wrap it up,” he said, slipping a sheet of paper into a folder. “I like how you fill out these lab reports.”


“I also appreciate you sharing your Chem-2 notes. You must have a decent TA for your recitation. The guy I have is a dud.”

“I guess I got lucky,” she replied.

“Yeah -- I wish I could switch sections. Probably can’t get away with that, though.”

Nichelle stood to sort and stuff papers into her pack. Kit regarded her -- she was wearing tight-fitting cut-off jeans. She had shapely legs, and her shorts fit her full thighs like a coat of paint. Kit tried to keep his ogling on the down-low, glancing away if her gaze swung his way. Billy was right, he thought. She is hot even if she doesn’t have much on top...

“So,” he said, “is this how you usually spend a Friday evening?”

“Not usually,” she replied. “I am happy to have this lab done.”

“What do you usually do?”

“I don’t do anything, usually.”


“What I mean is -- I don’t have a routine. I do ... whatever.” She slung her courier bag across her shoulder. “See you in lab on Monday.”

“Wait -- I’ll walk you to your dorm.”

“Kit -- you don’t have to.”

“It is kinda late and the days are getting shorter.”

“All right -- I’ll accept.”

“Which dorm?”

“I’m in Whalen.”

“That’s the new place. Is it nice?”

“I guess it is.”

“What are the rooms like?” he asked.

“They’re called units -- four bedrooms with a common lounge and bath.”

“Four singles?”

“Well ... They’re set up as doubles but the four of us all have singles.”

“Do you pay a singles rate or a doubles rate.”

“Doubles I think ... They use the extra capacity for overflow. It’s a co-ed floor and some of the guys’ units have doubles.”

“This place doesn’t attract enough women,” Kit remarked. “I’m in Moore. It’s similar -- two double rooms with a shared bath ... no lounge but the rooms are spacious.”

Kit escorted her to the door and they headed across campus.

“It’s darker than I thought,” she said.

“It’s later than we thought. I didn’t realize we spent so much time working on stuff. I don’t like it when the days grow short.”

“Fall is pretty, with the changing leaves,” she replied.

“Yeah -- I suppose.”

“I like crunching through the dried leaves. I think Autumn is my favorite season.”

“I like spring when it starts to get warm after the winter.”

“I hate winter,” she said. “I hate being cold.”

“You don’t ski or snowboard?”

“No. Do you?”

“Uh-uhn,” he said. “I’m really not very athletic.”

“Looks to me like you have some upper-body strength,” she remarked.

“Oh? Were you checking me out?”

“Couldn’t help notice,” she replied shyly.

“That comes from working summers on my neighbor’s farm. I lack the coordination to be an athlete.” They walked further. “Nichelle ... do you go to church?”

“Why? Do you?”

“I asked you first.”

“Does it matter?”

“Just curious.”

“No. I used to. My mom goes to church. She made sure I tagged along.”

“Same here,” he replied. “With my mom I think it’s more social than anything. I know my dad can take it or leave it. He just tagged along to keep the peace. Happy wife, happy life, he’d say.”

“When I was fourteen I knew I wanted to be a biologist,” Nichelle continued.

“You’re a bio major? I thought you were pre-med.”

“I don’t have what it takes to go through med school.”

“Actually, Nichelle -- I think you do.”

“Anyway, I started reading about evolution and all and I realized I couldn’t keep a faith that science contradicted. So, I stopped going.”

“How did your mom take it?” he asked.

“She said, I was old enough to make up my own mind. Mom’s kinda cool that way.”

“With me I just kinda drifted away. When I got to high school, my mom stopped insisting I go ... although she would emphasize how it makes you part of a community.” He snorted. “A community I want no part of.”

They reached Whalen House. Kit held the door and Nichelle stepped into the harsh light of the lobby. He scanned her up and down as she stepped through the door, gazing at the backs of her smooth, shapely, brown legs.

She faced him. “Thanks for walking with me. I really don’t like walking across campus after dark.”

“Who’s going to walk me home?” he asked, feigning a pout.

“Do you want to spend the whole night walking back and forth between our dorms?”

“Just kidding...”

“Well, Kit ... good night...”

“Nichelle -- wait.”


“I ... I was wondering if...”

“Wondering what?”

“If ... if you’d like to go out with me tomorrow night. I could see if the film society is showing something interesting or we could do something else.”

She regarded him for a long moment. “Are you serious? You really want me to go out with you?”

“I wouldn’t have asked if I wasn’t serious. What do you say?”

She tilted her head slightly and smiled. “I appreciate you asking me, Kit. I can’t. I have other plans.”

He drew in a breath and sighed. “Well ... Maybe some other time.”

“Maybe. I’ll see you in lab on Monday.” She gave him a little wave and headed through the door to the residential floors.

Kit trudged back toward his own dorm. He let himself into his room and saw his roommate lying on his bed. “You were out late,” Billy remarked.

“Yeah ... I didn’t realize how much work we had to do. We helped each other with some other classes, too.”

“So -- did you ask her out.”

“I did.”


Kit held his fore-fingers out straight to simulate an anti-aircraft gun. “Ta-ta-ta-ta-ta-ta-ta-ta-ta...”

“She shot you down?”

“In flames. After all that anxiety about working up the courage to ask her ... I really have started liking her and I sensed the feeling was mutual.”

“Did she tell you to get lost or what?” Billy asked.

“She said she had other plans.”

“Maybe she does.”

“I said, maybe some other time and she was far from committal.” Kit sat at his desk and propped his head in his palms. “We seemed to have stuff in common...”

“Do you have it bad for her?” Billy asked.

“No, not too bad ... not bad enough to make me wanna go join a monastery or anything,. Still...”

“Sorry, man. Her problem, her loss.”

“I’ll keep telling myself that.”

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