The Experiment

Proclivities Part 8 -The Experiment

Tuesday dragged on. George was working from home while I had to grind through a normal day at OTP. He had to have a bunch of remote meetings with the programmers and IT folk to get the proposals started for the customers he'd visited the previous week. Meanwhile, I realized exactly what George had meant by normalcy being overrated. There'd be no lunch with my love, nor any secretive postings to the web. Editing images for the company website only exacerbated my dilemma.

Tempting as it was, I also refrained from sending him any sexy pics. However cruel it seemed, I was determined to make it through the day and to our movie night date. But goddammit, I was horny! We hadn't even fooled around in the shower before I left for work. How could he have done that to me? Is he as horny as I am right now?

Worse, Betty had stopped by, rubbing salt in the wound - taking great pleasure in noting that I wouldn't be having lunch with George. At least I could counter with our plans for the evening, but it was a small consolation. I so badly wanted to tell her what a naughty bitch I'd become and truly insult her sensibilities. Imagining her reaction proved a fleeting satisfaction.

It seemed five o'clock would never arrive, but when it finally did, I couldn't get out of the door fast enough, taking out my frustration with a death grip on the steering wheel as I drove home. That's right, home. Not George's house anymore.

About half way there, my phone rang. Oh crap! It was my mom. Knowing I couldn't ignore her, I put her on speaker.

"Hi, mom! How are you?" I answered, doing my best to hide my frustration.

"Hi, Linda! I'm good. How are you?"

"I'm fine."

"You don't sound it. Everything okay?"

"Yeah, just a frustrating day at work," I replied. No need to tell her that my libidometer was in the red.

"That's a relief. You had me worried that you were having problems with that young fella you're so fond of."

"Actually, I'm on my way...wait a minute, how did you know?"

"Did you really think you could hide that from me? And I must confess, I'm snooping to see how it was going."

"It's going great. Couldn't be happier," I confided, omitting how much I wanted him to fuck me senseless. "And, as I was saying, I'm on my way to his house right now. We're going to order a pizza and watch this movie called

Key Largo.

"

"That should be fun. It's a good movie."

"Yup, that's what George said."

"Oh, so that's his name. Anyway, I'm so happy for you. I was beginning to wonder if you were ever going to meet someone you wanted to spend time with."

"Mom! I'm only twenty five. It's not like I never dated."

"I know dear, but a life of solitude is not much of a life."

"Rest assured, I don't plan on it."

"Oh? That serious, huh?"

"It seems that way."

"In that case, why don't you two come over for a cook out this weekend?"

"Mom! That's kind of rushing things. Don't you think?" I protested, but at least I now knew the purpose of her call.

"Based on what I'm sensing, no it isn't, but..." she said, putting the onus back on me.

"Okay, okay," I replied, unable to hide my exasperation. "I'll talk to him about it and get back to you. But I can't make any promises."

"That's all I could ask for," she replied, ignoring my tone, and satisfied that she'd at least planted the seed.. "You have fun tonight and enjoy your movie."

"I'm sure I will. Thanks."

"You're welcome. Just one more thing..."

"Yes?" I asked, wondering what else she had up her sleeve.

"Well, how should I say this...If you can't be good, be careful."

"Mom!"

"Just saying, dear. I didn't just fall off the turnip truck, you know."

"Fine. I'll keep that in mind. Anything else?" I asked, making my best attempt to drop the uncomfortable subject.

"No, that's all. Bye-bye. I'm looking forward to meeting George. Love you."

"I said maybe! Bye. Love you too, mom"

I hated that she had a valid point. Birth control was definitely something I'd have to consider, especially if I wanted him to keep filling my pussy with all that cum. At least that thought brought a smile to my face. Nonetheless, two more weighty subjects to discuss with George.

Unfortunately, George's driveway was coming up shortly, so I wouldn't have time to compose my thoughts. Oh well, I'll figure it out -- like he said, if you've got something to say, just say it.

I parked and entered the house to find George in the kitchen, dressed in jeans and a black tee shirt, shaping some dough on the counter.

Glancing up he said, "Hi, my love! How are...Oh, bad day, huh?"

"Normal sucks," was all I said. I never was any good at hiding my emotions.

"That it does," he consoled as he left the dough on the counter, dusted the flour from his hands over the sink, walked over to me and gave me a big hug. "Tell you what. Have a seat in the gazebo. I'll make us each a drink and you can tell me all about it. Vodka and tonic, right?"

"That would be nice, but how...I guess I should have known. Not much gets past you."

"When it comes to you, I hope not."

"You're so sweet. But let me go change first."

"You don't have to."

"Oh yes I do. I've had my fill of normal clothes."

"You'll get no argument from me," he said, leaning back from me, eyes twinkling.

"I'll be right back," I assured, releasing him and running upstairs. Doing my best Clark Kent, I was in a flimsy white tee and denim skirt in no time. The freedom of no underwear certainly lifted my spirits. I quickly checked my hair and makeup in the bathrooms -- that tee shirt doesn't hide much, now does it? A little touch up later, I hustled downstairs to find George in the gazebo, with two tall frosty tumblers on the table.

"My, oh my," he said, "doesn't somebody clean up nice!"

"Thanks," I replied, taking a chair next to him.

"Cheers." he grinned, handing me a glass.

"Wow! Kind of strong," I coughed.

"You looked like you could use it. I can add more tonic if you'd like."

"Nope. It's just what I needed. Took me by surprise, that's all," I stated.

"Okay, before you tell me about your day, take a look around. I find it most soothing."

He was right: the beautiful view up and down the river, the bright, late afternoon sunshine, a soft breeze tickling the water with the quacking of some ducks swimming by. I couldn't help but elicit a contented sigh.

"I could get used to this." I confessed.

"I hope so." he replied. "That's what I meant by listening to the sound of the sun going down."

"I wasn't sure what you meant when you said that on Friday, but I do now."

"So how was your day?"

"Much better now, but it was...I guess frustrating is the best description. First, I missed our fooling around in the shower this morning."

"I thought that was what you wanted," he countered defensively.

"So did I, but by ten or so, I regretted it."

"That's a relief."

"I'd hope so. But what really got to me was Betty gloating over the fact that you were working from home and that we wouldn't be having lunch together."

"Such a bitch. I missed that too. Lunch that is, not her."

"Plus, I had to really fight the temptation to send you any special texts."

"You're the one who wanted normal," he teased.

"I know, I know. But for me, this is normal," I stated, leaning back, pushing out my chest and pointing to my lightly veiled breasts.

"Now that's my kind of normal and certainly not boring." he confirmed, quickly flicking his extended tongue.

"Down, boy, down!"

"Oh, I'll go down, believe me!"

"I hope so." I replied and we both had a much needed laugh.

"But there are still a couple more things," I continued once we'd regained our composure.

"That sounds ominous."

"As long as we're being serious..."

"With you, I'm always serious, even when we're fooling around."

"I know," I affirmed, "and that's just one of the things I love about you. But anyway, while I was on my way here, my mom called."

"Everything okay?"

"Oh, she's fine, but the purpose of her call was to invite us to their house this weekend for a cookout. She really wants to meet you. I guess I didn't hide my feelings for you from her very well."

"I don't have a problem with it. Like I said before, I want you to bring your life with you, not leave it behind. But, are you okay with that? My meeting your parents, that is."

"Well...I appreciate that you're good with it and I know you'll be your charming self. I just have doubts about myself. If you can believe that. I mean, I haven't seen my mom since we started...dating. As far as she knows, I'm still sharing the apartment with Judy."

"I wouldn't spill the beans on you."

"I know," I replied, then briefly paused. "It's just, when she said, 'If you can't be good, be careful,' it was like she already knew we were having sex."

"And that surprises you?"

"Sort of. We've never talked about it much, outside of the usual birds and bees conversations. My parents must have always been very quiet. They've got a small house and I never heard any indication that they were sexually active. But after our call this afternoon, they must be more than I thought. I'm having difficulty reconciling that."

"I know what you mean. I think everyone has trouble contemplating their parents' sexuality. You know, like they only did enough to have kids, never for sport."

"Exactly. But there's more..." I said. "Now that she suspects, I feel I'd be embarrassed to see her -- given some of the kinky stuff we've done. For the most part, I've always been the good girl."

"And now, you're a naughty girl," he replied.

"Yup."

"I see. But we've had this conversation before. You're making too much of it. Your mom seems to think it's only natural that we'd have sex, but you're afraid that tarnishes your image in her eyes. I don't see it that way. Sounds to me like she loves you very much and her 'be careful' comment means she doesn't have a problem with it, so neither should you. Moreover, she doesn't need to know the details, and I'd assume she'd prefer not to."

"I know, but I needed to hear it again. So now the question is, would you consider meeting them this weekend?"

"Of course," he said reassuringly. "We'll check the weather and let her know if Saturday or Sunday works best. After all, I still owe you a sailing lesson."

"I love you!" I declared as I leaned over and indulged in a long, deep kiss.

"I love you too. Now, is there anything else you need to get off your oh so lovely chest?"

"Actually, there is," I confessed, unwilling to suppress a smile at his comment.

"Okay, but it's starting to get a little cool out here, so why don't we go inside and you can tell me about not while I make the pizza," he said as he stood and collected our glasses.

"You're making the pizza?"

"Sure. The dough and sauce were already in the freezer. It won't take long to put it together and even less time to cook."

"You didn't have to go through all that trouble," I said as I followed him inside.

"Not much trouble at all, and you know how much I love...showing off."

"That you do," I confirmed, fully aware of his innuendo.

"Before I get started, you want another drink?"

"Sure, just not as strong as the first one."

"Coming right up. Have a seat," he replied, indicating one of the stools at the bar.

I'd passed by the kitchen so quickly on my way out, I hadn't noticed everything on the counters. The dough was still resting, now under some plastic wrap on the countertop, the cocktail fixings at the far end. Right, he prefers gin. As he mixed two more, I also observed a pizza peel on top of a large wooden cutting board.

"You take this pizza thing pretty seriously," I said as I sat down.

"That I do. Cooking is my, umm, other passion."

"Oh, and what's you first?" I said innocently, batting my eyes at him and delighted that we had reverted to our playful banter

"Monument maintenance," he replied, holding out my refill.

We burst out laughing at his reference to my breasts and our introductory conversation on Friday. I waited for the bout to pass before accepting my drink and taking a sip.

He unwrapped the dough and shaped it into a disc on the counter. As he expanded it into a an ever increasing circle lifted onto the backs of his hands, he asked, "So, what else is on your mind"

"Oh, right," I replied, momentarily startled with his return to my concerns. "It goes to what my mom said about being careful. It's not that I don't want kids. It's just that right now is not the time."

"Wow! Saving the best for last, I see, but indeed it is a valid point and one I can agree with."

I watched intently as he dusted the peel with a small amount corn flower, placed the crust on it and applied a thin layer of sauce, then looked at me expectantly.

"So, I was thinking," I finally continued, "I'll make an appointment with my doctor and get a prescription for the pill."

"Obviously, you've given this some thought. Are you sure that's what you want?"

"Absolutely. As far as I know, other methods are a pain and put a real crimp on spontaneity."

"We could use condoms, you know."

"Sure, but..."

"But what?" he asked as he finished dressing the pizza with cheese.

"But...I really like it when you cum in me," I said with a blush. Apparently, being forthright was easier for me in the heat of passion and I took a big sip from my drink...

"Until you get things squared with your prescription, then."

"I suppose, but there are two...alternatives."

"You really are naughty! I can't wait to discuss it with your folks this weekend," he snorted as he turned and slid the pizza onto a steel slab in the oven.

"I'm sure they'll be delighted," I said sarcastically as a sudden blast of heat washed over me. "Holly crap! What you got that thing set to?"

"Five fifty. The highest is will go. I wish it could get hotter," he replied as he set a timer on the oven for six minutes.

"Wow, cooks pretty quick, huh?"

"That it does. In a traditional bee hive oven, running at eight hundred, it's under two minutes."

"You never cease to amaze me."

"And you're pretty amazing yourself," he replied as he blew me a kiss and took a quick peak in the oven and the delicious aroma of pizza greeted me.

"But, there is one more thing that troubles me."

"Uh-oh, sounds serious."

"Indeed it is," I replied, putting on my best pouty face. "I've been here for four days, moved in yesterday and the only rooms I've seen in your house are the kitchen, living room and master suite. When will I get to see the rest of this place?"

"I guess that was rude of me, now that you're a resident," he said with relief. "Dinner will be ready momentarily, so how about a fifty cent tour after dinner?"

"Sure. And as long as I'm at it, and since I've already told you about my mom's opinions, what about your parents?"

"Well...it's complicated."

"If you don't want to discuss it, I understand. "

"It's not a problem. It's just that I don't have the kind of relationship with mine like you do yours."

"Oh?"

"Mind you," he said, staring absently at the oven, "it's not like they don't love me. It's just that after the disasters with Kim and Marcie, I think they've given up hope on my love life.

"I find that hard to believe," I stated as the timer chimed.

"Now for the longest two minutes known to man," he said as he turned off the oven, used the peel to remove the pizza and slide it onto the cutting board. "It needs to rest a bit. Anyway, I always had the feeling they weren't exactly fond of either of them."

"You sound a little bitter," I observed.

"I suppose I was, but I'm past it. Unlike your.mom, neither of my parents would ever have said if you can't be good be careful. Just wasn't on their radar. In hindsight, the obsession with success my mother instilled may have factored into my failed relationship with Kim, but you know that story and all that followed."

"That I do," I replied sympathetically.

"My success was a mixed blessing until now. The important part is that it all led me here, where I finally have someone to share it with. And you don't seem to give a hang about the money," he concluded and proceeded to cut the pizza.

Placing a slice on each of two plates and he set them on the bar, and sat beside me. I was stunned to silence by his confession.

"So what do you think?" he asked, taking a bite.

"About? The pizza or what you just told me?"

"Both, but start with the pizza while it's still hot."

Taking a delightfully crunchy, chewy, cheesy bite, I said, "Yum. This is good. I mean really, really good."

"Thanks, sweetie," he replied.

Between bites, I continued, "As to the rest, I'm not sure where to start, so, first, as to the money, as you know, my parents are hardly rich, but I consider myself very fortunate to have grown up with them. Moreover, I've met enough rich assholes to know that money isn't the key to happiness. Not that having it is a bad thing, mind you.

"Now, I knew you were well off before I met you, thanks to Betty. However, if you hadn't been such a delight on Friday, it wouldn't have mattered; you'd be just another rich asshole. Being so handsome didn't hurt either."

"Thanks, darling. You're pretty easy on the eyes yourself," he added, as he fetched another slice for each of us.

"However, I must confess, that I was also enamored with your house the moment I laid eyes on it. Strange as it may sound, I felt safe here, even on Friday, and dreaming of spending a lot of time here was something I tried to suppress. Everything I've seen of your house is beautiful, but I didn't want to get my hopes up."

"Well thank you, and you can set your hopes as high you want. I'll do my damnedest to live up to them," he said endearingly.

"Same here."

"So, speaking of the house, it's time for your tour."

"Great! Let me tidy up the kitchen for you," I said.

"You don't have to."

"I think I can handle it. I've watched you enough to know where things go. After all, I live here now."

"I know, but at times I feel like it's a dream and I don't want to do anything to spoil it."

"I may be a naughty girl, but I'm no princess!" I countered, as I gathered the plates and walked to the sink, sticking out my chest and, with my back to him, bending over excessively to load the dishwasher. I wrapped the remaining pizza in foil and put it in the fridge. A quick wipe to clean the flour from the counter and I was done.

He joined me at the sink, embracing me and giving me a deep lingering kiss. As his hands slipped to my bare ass and squeezed, he asked, "Ready?...For the tour, that is."

"More than ready."

"Okay, you've seen the kitchen and living room," he said, releasing my ass and taking me by the hand, leading me to what I knew was the dining room, but until he flicked on the lights, I knew little else.

Running the side of the house and ending at what I assumed was the garage; it was a large room indeed. The flooring was the same as the living room, as was the wall color and window treatments, but he'd added burgundy wainscoting, the color complimenting the valences. But what really caught my eye was the oak dining set, stained in a deep brown, with simple but precisely carved blossoms fronting the doors and drawers. A tall china hutch was centered between the windows while the opposite wall sported a sideboard and what I surmised to be a set of drawers for table linens. Beneath a large, frosted glass dome ceiling light, sat the long dining table with eight matching chairs whose seats were covered with needlepoint -a black background with multi-colored flowers in the centers.

"Wow!" I gasped. "I absolutely love this dining set. I didn't think they made stuff like this anymore."

"As far as I know, they don't. It belonged to my maternal great grandmother, then my grandmother. So it must date to the nineteen twenties. When she passed and they were cleaning out her house, I volunteered to take it. She's the one who did the seat covers."