sexamination (part two).

Before I know it, an older man in a lab coat follows her in, eyes focussed on the chart on his hand.  I sit up, expectantly.

“Let’s see... Janet?”  He asks.

“Yes,” I confirm.

“I want to thank you for coming in.  Human sexuality is such an under researched field, but we’re beginning to make leaps in the trials we’ve been conducting here at this facility.”  He glances back to the clipboard, flipping through the pages.  “Well, everything looks good, here.  Shall we continue?”  Now more than ever, my curiosity wills me to.

“Sure.”

“Alright.  Let’s start with your mouth.  If you’ll open for me,” he offers.  The woman hands him the small flashlight, and he takes a quick look, just as she did before.  But, this time, his gloved thumb caresses my bottom lip.  I slightly taste the chalky powder from the inside of the latex glove.  My reflex is to close my mouth, but he continues to hold the flashlight, peering inside.  He takes his time, until I feel the need to swallow.  As if reading my mind, he hooks his thumb slightly over my bottom tooth to hold it open.  I feel a bead of drool accumulate behind my lip, and he looks to the assistant, who makes a note on the chart.  His thumb drifts towards it, then wipes it across my bottom lip, using the saliva to rejuvenate the dryness.  

“You’re not uncomfortable, are you?”  I shake my head.  Then, at his nod, the woman walks around us, to the tray of instruments.  She selects a speculum looking device, and hands it to her superior.  “Now, this is a specialized tool used to measure dilation.  We’ll be looking at depth as well as width.”  His finger continues to hold my mouth open, so I am unable to answer verbally, but I nod slightly.  “My counterpart will assist me in making this comfortable for you.  It is integral to the test that you are in a relaxed state, so she is here to ensure that.”  With the one hand he has available, he inserts the closed device carefully into my mouth.  The metal feels cold, but welcome.  My mouth is drying up, and it’s almost like a cool drink of water.  Just when I think the apparatus is going too deep, he stops. The woman takes a look with the flashlight, and makes a note of the measurement.

“You may close your lips around it,” he informs me, and I silently thank him for it.  The woman then comes to my other side, and only when her superior nods affirmatively, she moves a gloved hand in between my legs.  I feel her palm press against my pubic bone again, her fingers cupping down towards my pussy.  I try to look at what she is doing, but the apparatus is in the way.  

“That’s good,” the man says, encouragingly.  “Just try to relax.”  I feel her other hand begin to stimulate an already rock hard nipple, and I feel myself moisten.  The woman makes eye contact with her supervisor, and he moves to adjust the device in my mouth.  It lengthens slightly, so that I can feel it tickle the back of my throat.  He makes another note with his free hand.  “Good, Janet.  And now, the width.”

At that, he cranks the device open, but not so much that I can’t still close my lips around it.  I feel the woman’s fingers venture from my the outside of my pussy, to in between my lips now, and I shudder in the pleasure of her touching that sensitive area.  He turns the dial again, opening the speculum another half inch.

"That's good, Janet," he says again.  "Let's see if we can get you open a little further."  This time, he not only widens the device, but adds a little more length.  I feel it touch the back of my throat, which causes my gag reflex to tense up.  "That's okay," he says.  "Just try to relax."  My clit must have hardened, because the assistant now bats it back and forth with ease.  I fight the urge to moan, but find my throat making a faint gurgling sound behind the device.

"And, one more, if we can," he offers, before opening the tool to its capacity.  My cheeks are completely tightened now, stretched over it as far they will go.  He peers into my mouth with the flashlight, taking another reading for his clipboard.  The woman is massaging my clit rhythmically, while her supervisor takes a gloved finger and tests my mouth for moisture.  His hand glides over my tongue and lips momentarily, and I long to close my mouth around them.  He then signals to the woman, and they simultaneously release the speculum from my mouth, and decease stimulation.  I unconsciously make a sigh, mixed with surprise and yearning to continue.  They both snap their gloves off on either side of me, as if in stereo, and I rub my jaw a moment.  

"Very good," he says, raising his eyebrows and finishing up some notes.  I still don't know what exactly that was, but I'm glad I passed.  

"Let's continue, shall we?"

sexamination.

“Janet?”

“Yes?”

“We’re ready for you.”

I came across the online ad for a scientific study that was “sexual in nature”.  Compensation ranged from $200-$400.  I was perusing the classifieds, looking for work at the time, so it sounded appealing.  I’ve always been very open about my sexuality, and immediately felt excited about exploring it further.  I phoned to inquire, and the woman on the phone seemed professional and friendly.  She described a series of tests that involved testing sexual limits over the period of an hour or so, and assured me that while some of it might be slightly uncomfortable for a short time, as is the nature of pushing one’s boundaries, that generally candidates have an overall pleasant experience.     

The receptionist leads me down a white hallway, to a sterile looking room, much like a large doctor’s office.  There is a metal reclining table at it’s centre, covered with the paper you might find on a hospital bed while getting an exam.  The bulbous head of a movable dental light comes down from the ceiling but remains dark, and a small side table has been recently disinfected.  There is a row of three chairs along the periphery.    

“Please remove your clothing, and place it on this chair,” she states, though warmly.  “You may cover up with this, if you wish,” she continues, handing me a cotton medical gown.  The woman retreats to a cabinet on the wall, places latex gloves on her hands, then arranges several metal tools on a lined tray.  I can barely see around her, as she is facing away from me, but I catch a familiar glimpse of a speculum.  I slowly begin to remove my clothing as she speaks.

“Now, as I relayed to you on the phone, the idea is to test limits.  That said, we will do everything to make you comfortable as possible, as these limits often require the candidate to relax.  I know it might be difficult considering the environment, but just try to imagine yourself in a comfortable place.”  She turns, with the array of instruments displayed before her.  Most, I don’t recognize, and I don’t want to stare.  I see their metal catch the light out of the corner of my eye.  Some of them look quite large upon a small glance.  I’ve opted out of the gown, placing it on the table behind me, so I stand there completely naked.  “Please, sit,” she says, gesturing to the table.  “Make yourself comfortable.  I’ll need to do a couple preliminary tests for my supervisor.”

She breathes on the stethoscope before listening to my heart, but it remains a little cold.  She takes my blood pressure, inspects my skin, and peers into my mouth with a flashlight.  She records everything on a clipboard.  It seems just like a doctor’s physical exam, when she touches my breasts.  She could be searching for lumps like my GP does, but it feels very different.  As she takes them into her hands, her thumbs graze the nipples, making them stand straight out.  She nods, recording something on her clipboard.  I try to see what she has written, but she places it back down behind her.  I readjust on the table, the paper making a crinkling sound beneath my bare ass.

"I'm going to ask you a few questions, if that's alright."

"Sure," I nod.  

"These may seem personal in nature, but I assure you they will be kept confidential, and we encourage to answer them as honestly and openly as possible."  At this, she looks up at me from her clipboard.

 "Yep.  No problem."

"Great.  You consider your orientation to be straight, I believe?" 

"Yes."

"Alright," she says scanning for the proper page.  "Please answer a simple yes or no to the following.  Have you ever had sex, in the traditional sense?"

"Yes," I smile.

"Sorry, we have to start at the beginning," she smiles back.  "How many times would you say.  Between 1-5 times, 5-25, or 25 plus times?"

"25 plus."

"Have you ever performed oral sex on a man?"

"Yes."
"Again, between 1-5 times, 5-25, or 25 plus times?"
"25 plus, definitely."  She smiles.

"Alright.  Had anal sex?"

"Yes," I say after a pause.  I feel myself blush.

"How many times, would you say?  Between 1-5 times, 5-25, or 25 plus times?"

"Uh... Between 5 and 25?"

"Alright, thank you," she says, making a note.  She turns the page.  "Have you ever had an orgasm?"

"Yes," I chuckle.  She smiles.

"Again, starting at the beginning.  Have you ever had an orgasm via manual stimulation?"

"Yes."

"Via oral stimulation?"

"Yes."

"Via vagina penetration, with or without manual stimulation?"

"Yes."

"With a vibrator?"

"Yes."  

"During anal stimulation, with or without vaginal stimulation?"

"Uh... yes."

"During anal sex?"

"No."  She writes something down.  

"If you'll lie down for me," she says, smiling.

I half expect her to put my feet in the stirrups, but she only puts the palm of her hand on my mons, and applies a small amount of pressure.  At this, my clitoris seems to come alive.  She moves her hand slightly around in a circle, pressing firmly now on my mound.  I find myself pressing back; almost thrusting towards her hand.  She does this for a minute or so, and the pleasure she is giving me is unmistakable.  I look forward the next step of the test, but she abruptly stops, momentarily presses a gloved finger between my lips near my opening, then withdraws.  She observes the wetness accumulated on her fingers by gently rubbing her forefinger and thumb together, then jots something down on her clipboard.  "Great," she says, snapping her latex gloves off. 

 "I'll fetch my supervisor, and we'll get started."

my boyfriend, the masseur.

"Babe, I'm just so stressed out about exams!  I don't know what to do with myself!!" I groan from the computer room.

"How can I help?"  My lovely hubby asks, peeking his head in the doorway.

"Oh, I dunno.  Any chance you know anything about political science?  I'm not even halfway done this paper."

"Haha, no... But I can make a mean pasta!  Are you hungry?"

"No, I can't even think about food right now."

"Coffee?"

"I've had like ten.  In fact, I think it's part of my problem.  Not exactly helping the anxiety, you know?"

"I think you need to take a break," he says honestly.  "Come sit with me on the bed for a minute."

"I can't.  Seriously.  I need to work."

"Just for a couple minutes.  It'll save you time in the long run.  Maybe you just need to clear your head, and refocus."  I pause, considering it, feeling overwhelmed even to make this simple decision.  "I'll give you a massage...!"    He taunts.

"Okay," I acquiesce.  "But, only for a few minutes!"

"Lie here, with your head this way," he instructs.  "And, take a few deep breaths."  I do, but they sound more like desperate sighs.  He laughs at my half attempt.  

"What?"

"Just relax, baby.  I love you," he says touching my shoulders, and bending to kiss the side of my face.  It's nice to feel his warm breath on my cheek, so I breathe again, trying to relax my shoulders.  But, I feel them clenched tightly beneath his strong hands, as if they're fighting him in a battle to keep me in a permanent state of tension.  "Do it for me, okay?  So I can feel like I'm helping you," he teases, and I smile, remembering to breathe.  Just relax for a minute or two, I remind myself, and you can get back to work.  Just give this an honest shot.  

He perseveres despite the battle, squeezing my shoulders in his grip until they turn to jelly.  I feel my neck begin to submit, as he massages up and down it, digging the pads of his fingers into the base of my skull.  I moan, feeling like he's really releasing something.  A big knot of muscle right at my hairline.  "Right there, oohhhh...."

"Do you mind removing your shirt, Madame?"

"Oh, no, babe.  That's good.  Seriously.  I feel tons better."  Yet I haven't made a move to get up.  I remain at my place on the bed, practically melted into it.  

"You think your neck feels good, wait until I do the rest!"

"Mmm.  Okay, you've convinced me."  Still completely unmoving.  I feel him begin to lift it up my back, and I grab his hand, "Okay, okay!"  I sit up to take off my t-shirt, and lie back down on my belly, hiding my bare breasts.  

"The other way," he corrects.  

"Hey, what kind of a massage is this?" I tease.  

"An erotic one."

"Oh, really...!"

"Yes.  Now, just relax," he continues authoritatively, as I turn around.  "And, let the masseur do his job."  Feeling a big smile on my face, I close my eyes, and lie still, as if on a real massage table.  "Now, I know this might feel a little odd, considering we don't know each other, but I need to touch in some intimate places in order to get you in a state of deep relaxation."

"Alright," I nod, already feeling his hands on me.  "You have my consent!"  They brush my torso and arms lightly, warming up my skin.  

"I know you usually wouldn't have a masseuse touch you here," he says as he lightly touches my breasts, "But, this is what I have to do in order to relax you deeply."  I feel my nipples harden as he barely brushes them.  The more he runs his hands softly over me, the more I long for their strength, just like I felt earlier on my shoulders.  I want him to grip my breasts that way.  

"I'm going to need you to remove your pants, as well."

"Hmm?  Oh, sure," I say, still pretending he's a real masseuse.  I lift my hips to take off my pyjama bottoms, leaving me completely nude now.

"I want you to know that I'm a professional, and anything that I'm doing is for your benefit only, alright?"

"Mmm," I nod again, feeling his warm hands wander over my naked legs and hips now.  I feel the smile return to my face in anticipation.  I actually feel myself moisten as he brushes by my pussy, but he continues to move even lower, towards my feet.  He takes each one in his hand, and kneads it with agonizing thoroughness.  Moving slowly up my calves, massaging them thoughtfully, one by one, then the flesh my thighs, which he takes in his large hands and plays with like dough.  Doing my inner thigh, the back of his hand comes into contact with my pussy, and I squeeze my legs together, intending to trap him there.  

"Tsk, tsk," he says.  "You mustn't tense up.  Just lie perfectly still for me, alright?  You're doing very well."  I want to laugh; he so good at this.  He continues to press his fingers into the muscles of my hips, reaching beneath me slightly to massage the meat of my ass.  I moan, wanting his hands so badly.  On my pussy, my tits, anywhere.  He moves up, and I tense in hopes of him continuing towards my breasts, but the devil skips them, and again kneads my shoulders.  "Hmm.  You've got to relax, alright?  I saw your shoulders tense up, right there.  Maybe I need something special for you, to help you relax..."  I hear him reach into the bedside drawer, but I don't open my eyes.  

"What I need you to do for me, is hold this massager against yourself, alright?"  I open my eyes to him holding my clitoral vibrator.  "I'm going to add a bit of lubricant for comfort," he says as he expertly squeezes a dollop on the tip.  "Now, I don't do this for everyone, but you're a very special case.  Do you think you can do this for me?"  

"Where do you want me to put it?"  I ask, innocently.  

"Right here," he says, placing it on my clit, and turning it on.  "You wouldn't believe how much tension is kept at the clitoris."  

"Oohhhh..."  God, yes.  I feel my body suddenly focus, with the concentrated touch.  The rumbling vibrations seem to echo through my breasts, my g-spot, my ass, even my neck, my shoulders, my hair.  But, I want him.  More now, than ever.  Just touch me, naughty masseuse.  Just touch me once with your big, strong hands.  Your lips.  I want it so badly, I picture it happening.  I close my eyes and vividly envision him grabbing my breasts with force, as I turn the vibe up a notch.  I picture his mouth finally making contact on my tits; feeling his warm, wet lips take my breasts into his mouth.  Still, his hands dance playfully over my body.  Just when I think that he won't give them to me, not really, not how I want, his hand moves beneath the vibrator, to my pussy.

"There's also a lot of tension down here," he says as he lightly touches my opening.  Oh god.  Yes.  "Do you feel it?"

"Mm hm," I say, barely able to speak, I'm concentrating so intensely.

"Hmm.  Now, I'm just going to massage you here for a moment, alright?"

"Mmm.  Yes."

"I know it might feel odd at first for me to touch you here, but I need you to let me, alright?"

"Yes."  

"Good.  That's good.  You're really relaxing for me now, aren't you?"

"Yes."

"Now, if you can just let me massage in here, okay?"  He asks, as he begins to burrow inside of me, massaging me open in gentle circular strokes.  I practically draw him in, desperate to have him inside me, but he moves agonizingly slow, feeling as if he is massaging the walls inside as he goes.  I turn the vibrator up again, and am almost there.  Finally, he reaches it.  

"Now, will you let me massage this special spot?" He says, as he begins to stimulate my g-spot.  I feel my muscles twitch, and my eyes roll back into my head.  My pussy is just flooding with moisture, and I try to relax that part deep inside me, so that he can get to it.  "Can you let me in here and do this for you?"  

Yes, yes, yes.  I feel like every part of me is vibrating, and if I can only relax to open up and let it all in.  My muscles release for a second, and I feel the urge.  The feeling is so intense, that I shy away from it.  I try to open up again, and he says, "That's it.  Let me touch this spot."  With his encouragement, I do.  

"Yes!  Yes!  Yes!!"  I let out, coming hard on the vibe and his hand.  I take a moment, finally breathe deeply and relaxedly, as he joins me on the bed.  I moan happily, content to finally hold him against me.  He kisses me four times on the mouth, and says, "Feel better?"

"Oh yes..."

"See, now you can work on your paper!"

"My what?

open relationships (extended entry).

*This entry has been removed due to future publication with House of Erotica (www.houseoferoticabooks.com)*

SAUCY TIDBIT:

"Her exact words were 'mutually assisted masturbation.'"
"Ooh.  Spicy."
"Are you being sarcastic?"
"No! Honestly!  So... what does that include, exactly?"
"Kissing.  Clothing can come off.  Touching each other above the waist is okay."
"And, we can get ourselves off.
"Yes.  I'm sorry she's setting such conservative limits."
"Don't be sorry.  That's sexy."
"Really?"
"Yes," I say, leaning into him for a kiss.