Sex in the Name of Science
There is no subject that attracts Lola like sex. She wakes up thinking about sex, sex is on her mind all the day long, and sex is the lullaby that puts her to sleep at night. She literally lives sex — at home, at work, with friends, and alone. If, some slow night, we happen to be alone in the living room and she suggests a movie, she will suggest something having to do with sex: Kinsesy, This Movie is Not Yet Rated, Inside Deep Throat. Anything, anything that remotely has to do with sex is something she’ll suggest and she’ll do it by saying, “Yes, let’s watch that, it has a lot of sex in it.” The reason for this is that for Lo everything is merely foreplay; watching a movie, going out dancing, having drinks with friends, dinner, going to a museum (one of her favorites), even things as mundane as cleaning the house or making dinner she’ll turn into a sexual activity by doing the them in a French Maid outfit.
As I’ve mentioned before, she’s taken her passion for sex and she’s made it her career. As a licensed sex therapist, she is constantly coming into contact with various studies and organizations doing unusual work in the field. About a year ago a colleague of hers told her about a new study going on at a medical clinic where they were researching the pros and cons of a new spermicidal lubricant to be used on condoms. Ostensibly this clinical study was developed to examine how well the lubricant facilitated intercourse. As her friend described the research, the volunteer was paid to go into the lab where she would find a dildo, a condom, and the spermicidal lubricant. She then had a total of ten minutes to remove the condom, place it on the dildo, lubricate the dildo and use it on herself. After that, she was to put down the dildo, replace her clothing, and report to a room where she was to fill out a form about the experience.
There was no way my Lo was going to miss out on the opportunity to get paid for masturbating — and serving science and humanity as well! So she signed up to be a volunteer and eagerly awaited her chance to jill it for the greater good. But first she had to go in for an interview. So, one fine day she got dressed in her little plaid mini skirt, her cute heels, and her white blouse (unbuttoned to the third button, revealing her red bra beneath) and she went in for her interview. She found two men and one woman sitting behind a long, rectangular desk. She sat in front of them in a manner strangely reminiscent of the famous interrogation scene in Basic Instinct. There she sat as the “scientists” asked her a barrage of questions: How frequently do you have sex? Do you have anal sex? How frequently do you masturbate? When you masturbate, do you use a dildo, a vibrator, or other form of sex toy? How many sexual partners have you had in the past year? Do you have sex with men or women? Do you have sex with multiple people at the same time? Is your vagina often wet naturally? How do you arouse yourself? Do you watch pornography? When you watch pornography, what do you typically watch? How long does it take you to achieve an orgasm? Oh, sorry, yes, we’ll clarify. How long does it take you to achieve orgasm when masturbating? When having vaginal intercourse? When having anal intercourse? When having sex with a man? When having sex with a woman? When you have sex with men, do they use condoms? When you have sex with women, do they use strap-ons or other phallic instruments on you? When you have sex with women and they use phallic devices on you, do they insert them vaginally or anally? Oh, both? At the same time or in alternation? When you masturbate, do you typically finger your clit, vagina, or anus? Oh, at the same time or alternately? Do you use any sort of lubricant on your anus when having anal sex or self-pleasuring? Typically, do you prefer to have phallic objects, penises, or fingers inserted deep into your anus or shallow?
And on and on the questions were posed for almost an hour. Each of the scientists asked the questions in a manner and tone that gave the air of indifference, objective neutrality, and scientific seriousness. Lo, for her part, acting out the role of Sharon Stone, took the questions in stride and answered each one slowly, with thought, and in her sultry, seductive tone of voice as she crossed and re-crossed her legs. With each ever more unabashed question, Lo would pause as if taken aback by the brashness of the questioner, but secretly, inside, her heart was thumping with the thrill of being able to answer all of the questions in the affirmative and with the opportunity to go into detail about her sexual preferences — how deep, how long, how frequently — and with the challenge of trying to make the stoic scientists lose their composure. Oh, my little Lo lapped it up!
Finally, after the question and answer session was over — and it seemed to Lo that they didn’t want to let her go — she was told that they would be in touch with her, to which she replied, “Oh, I hope so.”
That night, when I got home from work, I found Lo in the bed with her giant dildo, fucking herself furiously. Her legs were spread wide and she rammed the long, flexible, rubber thing deep in her cunt. She was gripping the sheets with her left hand as her right hand plunged it in and out at a frenetic pace. I could hear her screams from down the hall and, as I stood over her, she was as loud as a fire truck. Finally she finished and then she recalled to me all the events of the interview and how it had made her so horny that she had to rush home. She told me she had jilled it about seven times prior to my arrival and now she wanted me. After hearing her story I was more than glad to supply her with my cock.
Well, a couple of weeks passed and she finally got the call she had been waiting for. They set up the appointment and she told me that on such and such a date she would be late getting home from work because she had to go to the clinic first.
When the appointed day arrived, I waited anxiously for my little Lo to get back from her hard day in the laboratory. Finally she walked in and I eagerly asked her how it went. “Later,” she said.
“What?!” I exclaimed.
“Later,” she repeated as she put her finger to her lips in a “shhhh” sign.
When we got into bed that night and were lying naked next to each other, she gave me all the details as her right hand fondled her little wet snatch.
[Excerpt from the story, “Lube Lab,” as found in the book: Match, Cinder & Spark, Volume II: MORE!]
