The Going Away

The Going Away Party

Alex was super thirsty. There was a new pitcher of iced tea on the table and he knocked off two glasses, but he was still thirsty. Actually, what he wanted was a beer. He looked down his body at his hard-working organ. It seemed to be back to natural size, so Rosa or Dr. Smith had probably reduced it. Maybe it shrank on its own and that was a sign he was running out of steam. But he was still wearing the patch. He probably wasn't done. Who would be next? He realized that the fucking itself, though fun, was not as interesting as discovering what each partner loved to do. He figured he had learned something. Before the experiment he pretty much wanted to get his nut the best way he could, and if he could bring the lady along for the ride, that was great. Of course he loved to play, but he hadn't really taken the time to get into their heads, into what lit their fires?
It was an exciting prospect because finding out what made a woman happy could be a whole new adventure. Think of the possibilities ...

What was keeping the next volunteer? This seemed to be the longest stretch between "shifts" so far. He had no idea what time it was. Maybe deep in the night and no one wanted to sign up. Still, Dr. Smith hadn't called it off or said, "Get some sleep and we will begin again in the morning."

Finally, just as Alex started to get drowsy again, the door cracked open and Dr. Smith walked in looking a little tired. She sat down in the chair, gave him a nod, and then remained in silence, tapping on her clipboard with her pen. After a while he had to ask.

"Is there anything wrong?"

She shook her head.

"No. Not exactly. But I'm at a bit of a loss as to how to proceed."

"You can send in the next volunteer. I seem to still be capable of ..."

"Yes, exactly. But you see, we weren't really prepared ... We have never had a subject that ... The problem is that we have sort of run out of volunteers ... for now, at least. I'm grateful some staff members were willing to 'fill in',... We are looking into tapping our next schedule, but that's supposed to be several days from now, and the idea is to see how long ..."

She shuddered and Alex wondered if she disliked the idea or was remembering how she felt when he was being 'milked'.

"It's impersonal and doesn't fulfill the second aspect of the experiment."

"My thought exactly. So what do we do?"

Dr. Smith tapped her pad.

"Well, I have had my staff call around to see if some of the volunteers are willing to move up their appointments. But it is the wee hours of the morning and I really had to let everyone go home. We left some messages with the next set of volunteers, but so far no one has responded. And while some women might fantasize about a "bootie call" in the wee hours, almost all would prefer some lead time. So."

She looked at her watch.

"So should I get some shut-eye and you will wake me when or if the next volunteer comes in?"

"Well, that would almost work, but the experiment is based on ... working your ... capabilities until they no longer ..."

"And I couldn't work with the machine for a while, and maybe I use the 3D goggles."

Dr. Smith's expression was suddenly glum.

"No, I think we need to call it quits. We have plenty of data in all sorts of interesting areas, some which you, yourself "invented." So I, we, are more than obliged. And surely you must be close to exhaustion ...?"

Alex checked in with himself. Other than a slight ache behind his balls, he felt fine.

"Actually, I probably have a couple more 'cums' in me. But, hey, it has been a day. We can wrap it up."

Dr. Smith's lips were tense, and she was shaking her head.

"Fine. I'll get the paperwork."

"OK. But. Hey. Instead of that cup of coffee you owe me ... could we just sit here and share a cold one before I go home? Would that be really out of line? I'd love to know a little more about what you have learned."

Alex was pretty sure Dr. Smith would turn him down. Surprisingly, she didn't. Still, she kind of shook her head as though to clear a stuck thought.

"Okay. Let me see. Maybe we have something in the break room fridge left over from the Christmas party. She bustled off."

It was Alex's turn to shake his head. It was pretty obvious she didn't want to terminate the experiment. Shouldn't she have given him the 'antidote'?

A little while later she returned with a small tray with two bottles on it, some crackers and cheese and a dish of peanuts.

"Well, it's not much of a breakfast, or a midnight snack, but it's what we've got."

Alex picked up a bottle.

"Hey, this isn't beer."

"Oh. No. Sorry. It's mead. It is alcoholic; made from honey. It's pretty good. Our office party had an Olde English theme."

Alex raised his bottle and waited until Dr. Smith had raised hers.
"Well, cheerio! Oh, wait. Don't you need to ... reduce this ...?"

He took a sip and pointed his bottle at the dome of his rigid pecker under his robe. Dr. Smith looked a bit flustered.

"Oh, so sorry. I suppose I'm tired. Let me get the ..."

Suddenly, his dick wilted wilted.

"Well! Never mind. I guess I don't need the "antidote." Mr. Happy seems to think the party is over. That party, anyhow. We can enjoy this little one without sitting on either side of a flagpole."

Dr. Smith had frozen, her bottle of mead in mid air.

"Something wrong?" He had been hoping they could relax and get to know each other better. She had that look of a hound on a scent.

"May I ...?" She pointed at the place where his member now seemed fully absent."

"Sure. You already know the guy intimately ..."

Dr. Smith drew back his robe and looked at the shriveled mushroom beneath it.

She shook her head.

"I have never seen such rapid detumescence. Even when I remove the patch and then apply the antidote it has taken the better part of half an hour to reach a fully flaccid state."

She took a sip from her bottle as she thought, gazing at the ceiling.

Alex was feeling very relaxed, but he did enjoy looking at her lips on the bottle, her long throat as the liquid passed through it. Alex felt his well-worked organ stir.

"Maybe it's the patch."

"Maybe the patch just gave out."

They said it together and their eyes connected.

"If you don't mind?"

Dr. Smith indicated that he should expose his back. At first she just examined it carefully from a few inches away.

"Hmm, that theory is out the window. You see, the patch changes from red, fully loaded, to pink, to purple to blue when it it is diminished. It is still a dark lavender, indicating that it is only about two-thirds depleted. A shame. Might as well remove it. A shame. Still. Thank you so much."

She toasted him with a sip of mead and then took a pair of protective gloves from a small red plastic kit.
"I needn't really bother with this, since we thoroughly tested the product on women subjects and none were affected. Especially me. More's the pity. I wish I could... Sorry, ... tired ... talking to myself."

She stopped and turned away.

"Something wrong?"

"Personal stuff. Outside the study."

"Really? Okay. Though it seems a little unfair. You know about everything there is to know about my habits, and preferences, and partners. So your interest in this study has a bit of a personal edge. Is that wrong?"

Alex saw Dr. Smith's fine cheekbones turned a slightly darker shade. She bit her lip.
"Well, okay. I'm making up some of the rules of this experiment as I go. So. Yes. You see I have never actually had a real orgasm, neither clitoral or vaginal.

"Even when I was on the machine?"

"Close, but no. Frankly, it is one reason I wanted to do this study. To see what brings women to orgasm, and or to find if there were many women like me who never achieve them."

"And ...?"

"With the right stimuli, they come."

"But not you."

"Not. Yet."

"And, if I may ask, but I guess I know the answer, have you had a partner who was able to ...?

"Not. Yet."

They were very close to each other, knee to knee, bottles side by side. A sad moment, neither looking at the other. Alex felt himself reaching out to touch a lock of hair that had fallen around her face. His finger touched her cheek and her mouth moved toward it, like a baby toward its mother's breast. Very, very gently Alex leaned over and kissed her cheek. Her eyes opened wide and a a small cry escaped her lips. She pulled away.

"I'm sorry. That was inappropriate. I should have asked ..."

For a moment she said nothing, then ...

"That was unusual. I have never felt ... a kiss in my ... vagina ... before. Excuse me."

In a second she was out the door. Alex didn't know what to do, so he just sat and drank his mead. It wasn't bad, like a hearty white wine with a honey finish. Moments later Dr. Smith returned with her clipboard. She sat and scribbled. Alex was a bit pissed off.

"Hey, I thought we were having a party. And now you are back in 'experiment mode' again?"

She was still distracted, eyes on the clipboard. She looked at her hands which were still wearing the protective gloves.

"I didn't finish ..."

"Then finish." Alex turned his back.

Dr. Smith started picking at the patch but the edges had conformed neatly to Alex's skin, so there was no way she could get a purchase.

"Oh, hell."

She pulled off one glove and used her well-manicured nail to slide under one edge of the patch and begin to pull it loose. Alex felt her fingers fumble.

"Oh shit! Oh God! Oh no!"

Alex turned to see Dr. Smith with her mouth and eyes wide open. A ragged blush had spread over her cheeks and was spreading down her neck and onto her bosom. She bit her lip, then gasped again. Frantic fingers clutched at her right breast. The heel of the other hand crushed her pubic bone. Her knees twisted in and her feet danced out of her shoes. Rapid panting breaths. That face of beautiful agony. And then she was almost still. Mouth open. Breathing hard.

"Whoa! That was a beauty."

"It was, wasn't it? But I never ... And you didn't ..."

"Nope. It was all you."

Without thinking about it they were sharing the big armchair. Alex sat and sipped. Dr. Smith mused. She had almost completely regained her composure. Alex hadn't. The sight of his orgasmic partner had sparked a small rise in his penis. But that was it. He could feel that it could not grow any more.

Dr. Smith retrieved her clipboard and wrote a few words on it. Then she mused out loud.

"It happened when I was removing the patch. Can't be your fluids because there were none, not your sweat because I have touched that before and not this. The kiss?"

She turned to him and smiled for a brief moment.

"Hmm, well that might have started something, but ...?"

She pushed aside her hair and showed him the almost invisible electrodes like the ones that he also wore.

"I had them put these on all the staff, including me, after what you said about these experiments triggering arousal. I'm sure my 'zigzags' will be off the charts after that. So. It has to be the patch. I touched it, and 'exploded.' But why now? I've touched the patches before, accidentally and on purpose. What is different?"

She looked at Alex.

"There's you, of course. But look at you. It's pretty obvious I don't have the same effect on you."

Alex wanted to object, but she went on.

"So something else. Or maybe it was just a quirk, the tension of witnessing this long experiment, seeing all these other women ... with you. Hmm. But should we rule out the physical the chemical. OK. Turn around again. This time I won't go off ... I think, yet, now..."

She put on the other glove and very carefully peeled off the patch and put it into a petri dish with a cover.

"There. The little devil is safely tucked away. What next?"

She made some more notes. Alex was puzzled. Maybe he should have been mad that a beautiful woman was almost totally ignoring him; but for the time being he was very relaxed. The moment the patch had come off, it was as though some uncomfortable conflict in his body had ceased and his dick actually perked up just a touch.

He was enjoying watching Dr. Smith 'at work' figuring out the next steps. Perhaps she seemed a bit younger. It was probably that she had absent-mindedly released her hair. She looked up.

"So here's what I'm going to do. I'm going to go over there and lie on the massage table, turned so I can't see you. I really should go in the solo room, but if this doesn't work out maybe you can help me figure out what is happening. I'm going to sample the patch again. Of course I should be using measured doses, but this isn't about the strength of the effect; it's about what is causing the effect. Still, I'm going to touch the smallest of samples. So we can't write any of this up, but I can figure out ..."

"... what makes you come. That's worth doing even if it isn't an official experiment."

"Exactly, although I may lose my license if I fuck this up."

The f-bomb sounded funny coming from her mouth, but it was better now she had relaxed a bit. Still, Alex felt he should be careful and completely follow her lead. They clicked bottles and swigged off the remaining mead. Dr. Smith climbed onto the massage table and placed the petri dish next to her. She called out.

"This is 'off the record'. I'm not recording it and I'll probably scrub the electrode data after I look at it, but could you take a few notes on my clipboard? I know this is unorthodox, but, if you could ..."

"Sure. Why not?"

Alex was happy to oblige. Dr. Smith opened the petri dish and very carefully brushed the pad of her forefinger on the patch. She lay back down.

"So far, nothing. Probably the built up tension. Wait. Nothing special. No, wait. I'm experiencing heat and tension in my left nipple. It seems it needs to be squeezed, hard, yes, that's it, but also, it needs to be wet ... as ... in a hot ... mouth ... sucking ... I can actually feel, as if there were someone ... and now the other one, the right one ... so tight ... I need to almost hurt it ... yes, that's better and now the feeling is heading straight down my middle under my navel and it's so tight so tight ... oh I can't ... I need ... touch ... yes ... oh, my that's ... uh! ... sensitive ... perhaps ... faster ... oh, please faster ... yes, that's got it ... and I, my ... is becoming very moist ... I think ... in ... yes ... that's right ... that's the spot ... I can't help it! I can't help it! Oh, please ... more ... MORE .. almost there ... almost there ... come on ... come on ... so close ... I want it, but wait ... no, I want it ... not yet ... too close ... so close ... right there. There's the edge. I'm up to it. Up to it. Up. Aaaaaaaaaa!"

Alex was writing as fast as he could, but he wanted to see, but not to stare. Actually, he wanted to stand right next to her and slide two spit soaked fingers into her and stir her up. But that was not his job. So he had watched as her hands danced down her body and her hips lifted high and her own hand had polished the pale white triangle of her modest briefs and then the other hand had slipped under the waistband and he could tell from the liquid sounds that she had plunged her own fingers deep inside and was furiously massaging her sweet spot until she froze and soaked that white cotton with her abundant release.

He just sat, adding a note or two until she stirred. Her voice, throaty from passion came from the darkened corner.

"I don't think it's just tension release. I think it's our experimental drug ... plus ... plus what?"

Alex smiled.

"I have a theory. What is the most effective aphrodisiac for women on the planet today? I'll give you a hint; and it isn't Spanish fly or moonlight and roses and romantic melodies, although those sure help. Easily available ..."

Dr. Smith was silent for a moment.

"Of course! Alcohol. Dimes to dollars that is our second key ingredient, though it could be the honey, or some trace ingredient."

Alex saluted her with his empty bottle.

"And I could surely do with another one, if such a thing exists? And might you join me?"

Dr. Smith was a bit wobbly and clearly in a different state of mind than at the beginning of the experiment as she slid off the massage table. She swayed over, sat on the arm of the chair and leaned into him."

"I think now we are not only off the record, we are off the cock. Of course, I also mean off the clock. I would dearly love to try out this new ... talent ... of mine. Would you like your patch back?"

She kissed him on the nose.

Alex pouted.

"I would love nothing better, only there is one, formerly big, now small problem. You remember what happened after we drank our first toast?"

"Instant nothing."

"Exactly. Major 'plot hole' in your new product. It only works when a man is sober, technically, when I am sober. You will need to test other guys. Otherwise, droop city. And how many men, especially men with a touch of the old ED, fellas eager to be bold and brassy for their lassies aren't going to go for a little 'dutch courage' before they fight the bedroom wars? Even if they read the tiny cautionary note on the label, or hear the words a million times on TV while the couple looks into the sunset from the hot tub?"

"Oops."

"Exactly, oops. And now you have something that turns librarians into tigers when they pop a pill and sip a cocktail. So she needs to drink but he mustn't. How does that work?"

He thought that she would turn all serious and frustrated on hearing this idea. But she just did her "gaze into the distance" thing for a few moments.

"A three percent share of your patent royalties for your thoughts."

"Well, maybe I should be disconsolate with this news. You're right. It could knock all our efforts into a cocked hat. But maybe not. With your help I now have three products that work pretty damn well under specific circumstances, two of them for women. Of course there may be more glitches. But that's a pretty good day's work. And I'll let you in on a little secret: While I might get rich from making the products, what I love is doing the research. I love working out the experiments. I love sex, as a test subject, and now, thanks to you, as an activity. So I'm feeling good, and grateful, and willing to show my gratitude. If you are willing to work with me on one more little experiment..."

She had slid down into the chair and kind of wrapped herself around him. She was a bit musky with her own sexual perfume and that was a heady brew. And the mead had created a nice buzz.

"I'm all ears."

"Thank you. Well, here it is. I have a little theory, but it is based on very little evidence, and I'd like to get a little proof, on which we can build a larger experiment."

"We?"

"Yes, we. I need your help now, and I am imagining, in the future, if you are agreeable."

She had started stroking his half-erect dick through the terrycloth of his robe and it felt very good.

"I'm feeling very agreeable."

"Good. So here's my idea. I'm hoping our little product might have what you might call a 'restorative' or 'corrective' effect over time. Maybe you don't get whopper erections after you stop dosing, but there could be some long-lasting benefits. I'd like to find out."

"Hmm, you might have a point. After I had a drink I felt the drug fighting the booze and the booze won and chilled my jets. But when the patch came off I felt 'normal', a bit limp, but normal."

"Exactly. So now I want to see if normal stimuli will do the job, and I am volunteering to provide those stimuli."

"Really?"

"Really."

She slid into his lap and very, very gently planted a kiss on the side of his neck. She kissed her way up to his jawline and then moistly along it to his earlobe, which she took lightly in her teeth. Alex felt the tip of her tongue trace the bottom edge of his earlobe, oh so gently.