Melodies within moments, sights accompanied by sounds; the world we live in teaches us to react to things instinctually. Like Pavlov's Dogs, we have been taught to react to sex in a certain way. Whether you are male or female your body responds to certain images or phrases uncontrollably. Control was always an issue. Who or what was in control of everyone?
The thought plagued him, wracked him as no other issue had. Was there a way to understand people's sexual reactions; more than that, he wanted to understand women. As a student of psychology in a major university working on graduate level work, he was allowed certain leeway to do research. Funds and time could be allocated for him, which he had gladly procured with his teachers blessing.
Human sexuality was not a concept most psychologists spent real time working on, studying or documenting. He figured that if his research could prove his theories, could give insight into the way women sexually interacted with the world; he would revolutionize not only the field of human sexuality but the mass-market paperbacks as well.
With a fist full of college cash and a plane ticket to a seedier city than the one he lived, Eric Tanner began his study of women.
Eric waited until night fell near some of the more populace bars before he went out. Once night fell Eric put on a nice suit that his roommate had let him take on the trip and went to the nearest, busiest club possible; the Vault.
The Vault was a collage of lights and sounds, resplendent with velvet and backlights and the latest techno or rock music depending on the night. All of the women his college companions from the town had considered truly exciting went to the Vault. That was part of the reason he ventured there; only the most attractive women presumably would have recognition of the processes they went through during the sexual process, and if they didn't Eric intended to enlighten them.
The first night was a total bust. Eric went from woman to woman, dancing or alone, trying to explain his purpose only to be shooed away and told to keep his cheap pick-up lines at home. Many weren't even that nice.
Confused and dismayed Eric returned to his hotel and poured over the books he had considered worth enough to bring on the trip. Eyes, lips, nose then mouth, the physical bearing of the man mattered to women looking for one night stands, he read.
The next day he went shopping for new clothes, one that would reveal his musculature to its best perspective. Being a college student and feeling the constant pressure of looking the part, Eric had quickly given in to the workout bug and developed quite a physique though he rarely used that to his advantage. Now he would.
A wife-beater and loose dancing pants found their way on his not-so-pale skin that night. Despite that, he found himself lost amidst the techno beats and dances. What were those glow things people were waving around? Who knew finding someone would be this difficult?
Another day wasted. He went to his motel and promptly gave his best friend and roommate a call.
"Bro, it's not working. I'm trying everything…but the scene is just so different…they dance with these glow wand things and…" Eric's voice trailed off.
"And dance. Yes, it's called dancing you doofus. Now, listen here Eric, you want to get women to participate in a research experiment and, because of you're here-to-fore denied hormones you only want the most enticing looking women. You can't get a woman like that by going to a club."
"I can't?"
"Not the way you are. You have to have a catch, a pull, some way to get them interested in you and willing to reveal their innermost secrets. Think about what we learned and develop a catch, I'm sure you can…look, I have a date, since your worthless ass is finally outta da pad. Later bro." The phone clicked dead.
Eyes, lips nose and mouth, then the senses sight, smell, touch, sound and taste; how was he use this to his advantage?
