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Chapter 6: The Study
What the fuck is wrong with me? Yeah yeah, I know people have been asking that about me for a long time, but I'm serious. Something is drastically wrong with me and I have no idea what it is. I'm on my way over to Tasha's right now, and I've had this weird feeling for several days now like I'm sick and rundown with a tightening around my heart. So as I'm walking over to Tasha's, I'm going through the last few days in my mind trying to figure out what might be going on. I mean, other than a severe need to be institutionalized for moral depravity.
That last session with Dave ended four days ago, and I swear every fucking day he gives me an earful about how much he wants to fuck her again, about how sorry he was for how he behaved, and could he please please please please fuck her again, blahbeddy blah blah blah. He even tried to buy me lunch the other day, which coming from a cheap bastard like him meant he was really trying to suck up to me.
But is that what's making me feel so weird now? Is that what's wrong with me? Y'know, I have to be honest with myself, cutting Dave off wasn't really about Dave. I mean, yeah I didn't want to keep taking those reckless risks, but it's more than that. Or is it? No, that's not what's wrong with me. But I don't know what it is. God, I'm less decisive than a teenager picking out what shirt to wear.
So what is wong? I mean, I'm taking advantage of her and fucking her every chance I get, and I let Dave take advantage of her as well. So why don't I want to let him fuck her again? What's the big deal? She's got enough tits for both us, that's for sure. And her ability to fuck both of us together simultaneously is nothing but extraordinary to the point of weirdly paranormal. Yeah, that bondage stuff was a little dangerous in terms of the whole scam. But the fact is, she really liked it and wanted to do it again. So why the hell don't I? What's the big deal with the two of us fucking her?
Something's going on with me and I'm not sure what it is. Ok, keep going through the last few days, I've still got some time before I get to Tasha's. Let's see, Dave's last night was four days ago. The next evening after that I went to Tasha's and sat down on the couch with her and said, "Y'know, Tasha, you have made such amazing progress with these exercises that I don't think we need to continue with the super-duper ultimate-radical therapy sessions with Dr. Cooper anymore." And thank you oh so much Dave for forcing me to hear the phrase "super-duper ultimate-radical" spew out of my own mouth.
"Oh, ok." She seemed surprised but wasn't all that upset about Dave not coming any more. "So... we're done with the therapy?" I think she's concerned that maybe we were stopping the therapy too soon.
"No, we still have work to do. I just don't think the more rigorous intervention is justified anymore."
"Ok, I have to say I'm a little relieved. I like Dr. Cooper, but boy he can be rough sometimes!" I don't blame you, after seeing that his idea of sex is pounding away at a woman's pussy as hard as he can until the blood vessels on his forehead burst. "But I really like working with you, Albert. Thank you." She gave me a smile that made me feel warm. "In fact, I wanted to ask you if there was anything I could do for you. For being so helpful."
"Actually, there is something." This is perfect, I had thought of something to get back on track with the whole scam. Since Tasha said she'd been talking to her neighbor, I figured I'd better come up with another excuse to do what we're doing, because the longer these "exercises" go on, the less sense they make. Like they made a whole lot of fucking sense to begin with. Still, I had an idea about where to go next. "I'm going to be giving a talk at a lingerie symposium in a few months on how different types of fabric can have an effect on a person's libido. But although I have read all the literature, I want to have a particular example I can use, a series of personal anecdotes, so to speak. So I wanted to ask you if you would be willing to put on different lingerie each night before we did our exercises and rate how aroused you feel and how willing you are to have sex."
In preparation I had gotten some sets of lingerie in her size, and now I pulled one out for her to look at. She gave me a great big smile, snatched the lingerie from my hands, kissed me on the cheek, and walked into the other room to put it on for me. I don't know why she felt the need to get dressed in another room, it's not like I hadn't seen her naked a thousand times already, but I guess she wanted to do this properly in the name of science or something.
When she walked out, I was suddenly unable to speak coherently. I mean, even more so than usual. I had given her a dark-blue polyester bra and panty set that didn't have very much ornamentation on them but had less cloth than typical lingerie. Her massive breasts were pressed together and formed a line of cleavage that seemed to run forever up her chest. The thong panty was so low in her crotch that some tufts of her pubic hairs peeked out of the top, and it didn't even bother to try to cover up her perfectly round ass.
I gulped and said something profound like, "Wow. You look amazing!" She blushed and said thanks. "So," I continued in the most professional voice I could muster, "on a scale from 1 to 10, how aroused do you feel?"
"I would say 8." Holy shit, she was so sexy. I can't stop looking at her smile. No, that's not true. It's not her smile my eyes are glued to.
"And, uh, how willing would you be to have sex?" Shit, why am I so nervous?
"Right now, I'd say about 4." Her chin dropped a little and then she looked at me intently from under the strands of blonde hair draped across her face. "Is that it? Is that the information you needed?"
"Well, yes," I said, "but it would really help if I could see first-hand just how aroused you are."
"What do you want me to do?"
"If you don't mind me rubbing the lingerie against your nipples," I said, licking my lips and putting my hands on the fabric of her bra, "I can examine how that affects your level of arousal and add that data to my research statistics."
"Oh sure, go right ahead!"
As I massaged her heavenly breasts, I asked, "Does this help with your level of arousal?" Because I have to tell you, I find this amazingly helpful to the erection in my pants right about now.