The Experiment (6 page)

Zoe impatiently pulled her panties down and kicked them away. She turned around and showed him her ass, opening her legs slightly and swaying from side to side, looking at him over her shoulder. Her high heels made her legs look longer and her ass even higher and tighter than normal and she knew it. She knew she looked good and she wanted him to see it too.

As she slowly teased him with her hips, she whispered, “Do you like that ass, Mr. Devil? It’s a pretty one, isn’t it? Yes. And it’s a hot one too. Nice and tight. And wouldn’t you love to stick your big cock in there?”

She had done that too, though never with a dick the size of the one in the other room, and never willingly. It had been one more thing she had given to Jack. But now her ass was hers again, hers to show off to whomever she pleased and the thought of taking his enormous pole inside her made her clench her buttocks in sympathy as she imagined him filling her. She could imagine him standing behind her trying to get his prick up into her, his hands on her tits, his breath on the back of her neck.

She knew he could see the little tuft of her pubic hair showing beneath her pussy as he looked through her legs and probably her swollen pussy lips as well as she swayed
her ass from side to side. She knew she was wet and she hoped she was wet enough that her pubes would sparkle with drops of her own moisture, dripping with honeydew.

She turned suddenly, sat down in the chair and opened her thighs wide as she played with herself, but that was no good. She wanted
him
. She wanted him to fuck her with his big cock. She wanted to feel that big shaft shoving into her and spreading her wide, filling her, fucking her, his weight pressing her down on her body and her aching breasts as his hips slammed into the open saddle of her thighs, driving deep, reaming a way into her belly.

She masturbated directly at him now, daring him to do something, playing in her pussy and rubbing her clit, spreading herself open, showing him how hot she was as he stared at her with an intensity she could feel like heat upon her skin.

She got out of the chair, went to the Plexiglas barrier and pressed her chest against it, mashing her breasts flat as she worked desperately at her pussy, thinking only of his cock, of his big hard cock. And he met her there. He got out of his chair and walked up to the barrier too, holding his enormous hard-on in his hand. He leaned against the barrier with his hand, placing it right over her breast, as if he could squeeze her through the Plexiglas while his other hand pumped his huge cock up and down, pre-cum now drooling from the tip, his balls swinging back and forth.

He was big and thick and hard and so terribly close and she could imagine the feel of the knobby veins as it sunk into her hot and hard and rubbed against the smooth yielding walls of her cunt, feel those big, heavy balls bang against her anus, tickling her below as he fed his steel-hard cock into her cunt.

Touch me! Touch me!
she screamed in her mind as she humped against the barrier, her fingers vibrating in her pussy. They were so close that they could hear each other’s moans, muffled through the Plexiglas barrier.

He cried out and pushed his hips toward her as his hand became almost a blur on his cock. “Oh fuck!” he cried, and Zoe heard him and knew from his voice that he was coming.

She almost tried to climb the barrier in her excitement. She pressed herself hard against the thick plastic, mashing her breasts and crushing her nipples flat. She stuck her tongue out through the mask and licked at the wall, rubbed her tits against it, making wet, squeaking sounds as her flesh slid along it.

He cried out again and she watched in wonder as his hips jerked forward and a huge gob of semen burst from his shaft and splashed against the plastic, pearly white and viscous. Without thinking Zoe fell to her knees and pressed her mouth to the plastic barrier, trying to feel the force of his ejaculation as he erupted again and again, each jet making a starburst splash of cream before slowly and reluctantly oozing down in milky trails.

“Oh! Oh!” Zoe cried as she tried to imagine the semen hitting her own face.
What a waste! What a waste!
she thought, she wanted it so badly.

The man lurched a few times more, the last of his ejaculate drooled from his cock and hung in long streams which stretched and then snapped and fell to the carpet below. He staggered back, found the chair and collapsed onto it, his chest heaving.

Then the lights went out.

Blackness.

Zoe was left on her knees on the thick carpet of the Doctor’s interview room, her hands pressed against the plastic barrier, naked except for her stockings and shoes. Her pussy was wet and aching, unsatisfied. She felt weak and trembly in a way she knew only a lover’s embrace could cure. A great sadness came over her.

She needed someone so badly. Not just for sex, not just to fuck her and quench this terrible need, but just to hold her, to keep her together. She needed a man’s arms around her to stop the trembling. But she had no one. No one here, no one anywhere.

Suddenly and unexpectedly she began to cry. It was partly from sheer sexual frustration, but it was more than that. She was still aware enough to know that the Doctor had planned this whole thing just to bring her to this level of arousal, and she was certain she knew what would come next. That was fine with her. If he was ready to come in and fuck her now, she was ready too. If this is what the whole thing had been about, then it had worked brilliantly. She was ready for him. She was ready for anyone.

So she waited. She stopped crying. She stood up and took off the mask, sat in the chair and wiped her eyes. Slowly she calmed down.

But the Doctor didn’t show. She sat there in the darkness, her pussy aching as her heart slowed and her breathing returned to normal. Nothing happened. No one came in. After some minutes she saw a shaft of light spill into the room on the other side of the barricade and her phantom lover exited without so much as a glance back at her. She felt despondent.

Finally the door opened and Ms. Liu came in and asked her if she was all right.

Zoe was so emotionally drained that she felt no embarrassment at the other woman seeing her naked, nor did Ms. Liu show surprise at seeing Zoe sitting in the chair dressed only in stockings and shoes. She discreetly lowered her eyes.

“I’ll give you some time to collect yourself,” Ms. Liu said gently. “The lights will be on in a moment.”

“Is that all?” Zoe asked, “Is it over?”

“For tonight, yes,” Ms. Liu replied. “Your money is on the desk. Shall I bring you a warm towel?”

“Please,” Zoe said. “That would be nice.”

“Certainly.”

She looked at Zoe for a moment and then asked, “Would you like me to call you a cab?”

Zoe shook her head and looked away. The thought of climbing into a cab alone and going back to her lonely flat was more than she could bear. She was about to cry again.

No Doctor. No relief. Ms. Liu brought her two hot towels and a stack of soft, dry ones and Zoe wiped herself off and dressed. She wondered about the devil-man and bid him goodnight in her mind. She went to the desk and picked up her money, threw it into her purse and walked out, leaving the towels in her chair.

She masturbated when she got home, holding a large pillow between her thighs and pretending it was a man, a man whose face she never saw, but the relief was fleeting. Before she could get to sleep the need was back and she knew that it could not be satisfied by masturbation, no matter how many times she tried.

She got out of bed and put a robe on, poured herself a glass of wine and lit a joint from her meager stash. She sat in the front turret window of her flat looking down at the street and smoking, watching the lights.

This was where she had sat for weeks after her breakup, watching the days come and go, seeing the nights drag by, doing nothing but hurting and hating herself. She was so much better now, she thought. So much better.

She had been so sure the Doctor would appear to take advantage of her need and she couldn’t understand why he hadn’t. If he’d come into the room after the session she would have given herself to him totally, without any hesitation or recrimination. She didn’t understand. Wasn’t that what this was all about? He was seducing her, she was sure of it. The alternative, that this really was about science, with no regard for what he was doing to her, was too painful to contemplate, too cruel.

In the big apartment building across the way the lights were winking out. Men and women going to bed. Maybe for sex, maybe just to be next to each other during the night. She wouldn’t cry. She hadn’t cried for months before tonight and she wouldn’t let herself fall back into that raw sea of tears. Summoning the toughness that she’d developed sitting in this very spot month after month, she forced the tears back down,
closed the lid on them and pushed them down into that part of her where there weren’t any feelings at all.

Chapter Three

“How are you this evening, Ms. Alexander?”

The voice came out of the velvety dark. As usual, only his hands were visible, calmly folded under the cone of light from the desk lamp.

Zoe smoothed her skirt and sat down under a spotlight of her own, facing the desk. “I’m very well, thank you, Doctor. And how are you?”

“I’m well, thank you,” he answered. “May I say that you’re looking especially lovely tonight?”

“Thank you.” Zoe smiled and shifted in the white leather chair. She thought so too, but still it was good to hear it confirmed. She was wearing a new skirt and blouse she’d bought with the money from her last session, money that had also paid for her new hairstyle and manicure. The salon had been very good—expensive, but she felt no guilt about it. She had earned the money and she had spent it as she wished. Even if it had been earned by her dubious and perhaps even shameful performance in this very room, she refused to feel bad about it. She felt very attractive and it felt good. She felt formidable.

“Let me give you your compensation for tonight so we can get that out of the way,” the Doctor said, placing five fifty-dollar bills on the edge of the desk.

The money. She glanced at the bills but she made no move to retrieve them.

She had much she wanted to discuss, but now that she was here the words seemed to leave her. She had done a lot of thinking about her past two sessions, the last one especially, where she had joined a man in mutual masturbation, a man she could see but not hear or touch. It had been a strange and emotional experience and had haunted her ever since. It had changed her ideas about the experiment and the purpose behind it, and she no longer thought that the Doctor was just some wealthy pervert indulging
his voyeuristic whims. He was doing something to her and she had to believe it was intentional. She didn’t know what it was yet, but she had the distinct impression that he was on her side.

“Doctor, I…” she began. “That man at the last session…”

“Yes?”

She didn’t know how to broach the subject. It was so personal, and she wasn’t used to discussing her personal life. “I’ve been thinking about it all week. What happened, I mean. I just can’t seem to get it out of my mind.”

He was silent, but she knew he was listening. She looked into the darkness for some encouragement, but saw nothing but his hands folded together neatly beneath the desk light.

“Is it all right if I talk?” she asked. “I don’t want to upset the experiment.”

“No,” he said calmly. “It’s quite all right. Please do.”

She sighed. “I guess it was just a very emotional experience for me. I know you can’t really discuss it with me, can you?”

He paused a moment before saying, “Well, that depends. Just what is it you want to discuss?”

She opened her mouth, but she realized now, sitting here in the darkness with the light upon her, that he wouldn’t tell her who the man was or what the stranger’s reaction to her had been. Instead she said, “I was wondering whether we could repeat that last session.”

She knew he’d refuse, so before he could speak she added, “I mean, you were right when you said that I was sexually active. At least I used to be. I’m not anymore, not since my breakup. In fact, I haven’t done anything for months now, haven’t even had the desire.” She looked up uncertainly. “But after the last session, once I thought about it, I don’t know. It did something to me. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it. It’s like it brought all this stuff to the surface, things I’ve been denying.”

He said nothing and she peered at his shadow in the darkness. He wasn’t making this easy.

“It felt good,” she said softly. “It just felt so good to feel like that again.”

His hands didn’t move. “Feel like what, Ms. Alexander?”

She took a deep breath. “Sexy,” she said. “Maybe ‘sexual’ is a better word.”

She looked down for a moment. “You have to understand, Doctor, I have no one else I can talk to about this. I don’t really have any friends anymore, not close ones. No one knows I’m coming here or what’s happening, so…” Her voice trailed off uncertainly. “But it was just so exciting to feel that way again. To feel desirable and sexy. To have that effect on a man.”

She waited now for him to respond. She was determined not to go on until he responded.

“That’s very interesting,” he said at last. “I’m happy for you.”