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Although this story is ‘self-contained’ it is better if read before its companion piece – ‘Break-out’
Trial and Error
A couple of years ago, when as they say, I was ‘between careers’, I took a job with a company specialising in long-term, attitudinal research, measuring people’s shifting attitudes to a wide variety of topics; religion, politics, health, things like that. As you can imagine, the questionnaire was long and complex, taking well over an hour to complete, so it wasn’t practical to just stop people in the street.
Apart from the time the interview took it was also important to have what’s called a ‘structured sample’ of the population, so that the people we actually interviewed represented the general mix of the nation as a whole – the right percentage of teachers, doctors, garbage-collectors, lawyers, bus-drivers – that kind of thing. To help us achieve this we were given specific streets or areas, that had previously been identified by the research planners as being most likely to provide the type of people needed. We then went round from door to door, checking for people who fitted the profile we had been given and then either conducting the interview or trying to make an appointment to do so at a more convenient time.
I found myself actually enjoying the work, as I had always had the gift of the gab I rarely had any problem in getting my quota of interviews as some people did – and meeting a variety of people was a constant source of interest.
One thing that did surprise me was the number of women at home during the day. I’d thought that these days they all had jobs or careers and although I came across my fair share of weirdoes, from time I came across some really good looking ones. Being a normal, horny male I started thinking about the possibilities, but it’s a bit hard to chat-up a woman when you are in the middle of asking her about the political problems in South Africa or the place of the Pope in the world today.
The more I thought about it the more I realised that what I needed was some way of introducing sex into my questioning, to at least get the woman thinking about the subject. I wasn’t stupid enough to think that just thinking about it would get me into bed with her, but at least it would be heading in the right direction – it would be up to me to take it from there. I also realised that I had to be careful, one complaint or even just a phone call back to the office and I could be in real trouble – and, out of a job!
But as my love-life was non-existent at that time I thought the potential rewards were worth taking the chance and started working up a questionnaire of my own, then typed it up on the machines at the office and photo-copied a supply of them. The finished result was a very professional job and I realised that apart from anything else, I had picked up a fair bit of knowledge of basic research techniques.
Having finished it I was too nervous to use it for a couple of days – but during the interviews I could feel it almost burning a hole through the back of the folder that held my regular questionnaire. Of course I made excuses to myself – the women were not sufficiently attractive, too nervous, too aggressive, anything at all to avoid having to actually try it out.
But I realised that I was being silly, so finally I forced myself to go through with it – and then the first three times I bombed out!
The first, a really good looking blonde with breasts that seemed determined to pop out of the skimpy cotton top she had on, seemed to be a natural. But by the time I had got to question six or seven she was blushing like mad and suddenly said she remembered that she had an appointment for lunch!
The next turned out to be a lesbian. The third was so matter of fact about the whole thing that I got the feeling she probably made love according to some kind of schedule.
As you can imagine, I was beginning to think that my idea was a fizzer – then I met Jane!
I was working my way round an area of very expensive houses full of doctors, lawyers and high-powered business people. Most of the wives didn’t actually work but catching them at home and with an hour to spare was really tough going. I began to reckon that the wives were working harder at their social lives than their husbands were at their jobs.
I’ll never forget the house; a big, two-storey place set well back from the street, almost hidden behind a wall and a very well kept garden. Having walked up the curving drive I rang the bell, not really expecting to find anyone other than a cleaner or cook available – but Jane answered the door herself.
She was, in a word – adorable! Short, bobbed black hair with a fringe that fell to just above her eyebrows. Dramatic, blue-green eyes, large and wide-set, with the longest lashes I had ever seen. A classic little turned-up nose and a wide, generous mouth completed her absolutely stunning looks. She was wearing a sort of peasant-style bahis siteleri outfit that I had noticed on several of the women in the area during the previous couple of weeks and which I presumed was the current, trendy fashion – a mid-length, full skirt which had rows of patterned ribbons running around it and above that, a white scoop-necked blouse. Although I thought it made most of the women look slightly ridiculous, on her it looked gorgeous and I felt myself staring at the way the blouse showed off the soft, upper curve of her breasts.
I introduced myself and showed her my credentials and then went on to outline the purpose of my visit and the time involved if she agreed to participate. She seemed preoccupied, as though there were something bothering her but in spite of that, as she invited me inside, I decided I absolutely had to try out my private survey at least this one more time.
She took me through to the kitchen, which was almost as big as my entire flat, sat me down and suggested I get my papers ready while she made us both some coffee at the same time telling me that her name was Jane. When she finally joined me I took her through the format and details of the questionnaire – and outlined the other one too.
The way I explained it was by saying that we were working on behalf of an associate company, that had been commissioned to survey the sexual attitudes, problems and practices within the community. That we understood that many people might be offended by the intimacy of some of the questions and that people willing to answer those in the main survey should not feel under any obligation to answer the others too.
She reacted with a raised eyebrow and a slight smile playing at the corners of her mouth – as though some private joke had crossed her mind – but I pressed on and then started asking her views on the many and various subjects included in the official questionnaire. As the questions and her answers began to flow she gave me the impression that she was feeling relaxed and comfortable with me and I found my original hopes rising.
Although we are supposed to be quite dead-pan during the session, so as to avoid any chance of our reactions influencing the person’s replies, I ignored that this time and made asides and comments from time to time and was further encouraged by her smiles and an occasional laugh at what I had said. I felt more and more certain that if ever I was to be successful with my own questionnaire, Jane was my best chance – but still realised that it would all boil down to her own feelings about sex itself. ‘Would she turn out to be a prude after all?’ I wondered.
As I got closer to the end of the questions I felt the first, faint flutter of butterflies in my stomach, realising that any minute now it would be make or break time. But, as I got that nervousness under control I became aware of another kind of stirring inside me and as I turned to what I knew was the last page, I found myself examining her even more closely – the soft swelling curves of her breasts, the way her hair curled around her ears, those long, thick lashes framing her dramatically coloured eyes. And found myself trying to imagine her body beneath the clothes and how it might actually look and feel, in my arms – naked!
The thoughts triggered a familiar ache and as it grew I became aware of the slow stiffening of my cock – and I also realised that she was sitting, quite silently, watching me, waiting for me to continue.
‘I’m sorry – I’m sorry.’ I mumbled. ‘I lost my train of thought for a moment.
Her smile was non-committal and she still said nothing. I hurried through the last few questions, becoming even more aware of her closeness and my own, growing response to her but somehow got through the last page and, without stopping, went straight on with the introduction to my own ‘research’.
‘As this is a separate section some of the opening questions are similar to some I have already asked you, for the other part.’ She nodded her understanding. ‘O.K., first some multiple choice questions – ‘Single, living in a permanent relationship or married?”
‘Married.’ she replied, settling herself back in her chair.
”Age of spouse – 25 to 30, 30 to 35, 35 to 45, 45 to 60 or over 60?”
‘The third one.’
The next is optional.’ I said with a grin. ‘You’re age?’
‘The second group.’
I looked up briefly. ‘Sorry.’ I said. ‘Just a reflex, I find it hard to believe, you look younger.’
She smiled at the compliment and I continued. ‘Children?’
‘Two, a boy, ten and a girl, nearly eight.’
‘Thank you, the ages were the next question. Now, income, I’ll read out a series of income groups, you just tell me which one of them is most appropriate in your case.’
She bristled a little during the questions that covered their property and financial status and I made a mental note to tone down that section of my questionnaire in future. But I did find out that much of the renovation of canlı bahis siteleri what had been her husband’s family home had been designed by herself and I was able to bring the warmth back into her responses when I sincerely complimented her on the results. ‘I get to see a lot of remodelled houses and most of them aren’t a patch on what I’ve seen of your house.’
A faint flush coloured her cheeks as she replied. ‘Thank you. Although I had to do some architecture at university, interior design is what I always really wanted to do, before I met my husband Mitchell – I have sometimes thought about going back to it but time slips away somehow.’
‘Pity, I think you have a real talent.’ I paused for a few seconds and found that we were both staring at each other, I knew what thoughts were going through my head and would have given anything to know what was in hers. After what seemed an eternity, she began to shift uneasily in her chair and I looked back down at my folder – very conscious of the continuing arousal that surged through my body and where it was focussed – between my thighs!
‘Now we come to the personal part.’ I said, looking up at her again as I continued. ‘Let me remind you that what you tell me is in total confidence, when we finish you can watch me seal your forms in an envelope, there is no reference to you by name, merely a set of impersonal responses that a computer matches with all the other forms we send in. If you find any question, or the whole thing, too embarrassing just say so and I’ll tear everything up, O.K.?’
‘I understand. You make it sound quite dramatic!’
I smiled reassuringly. ‘I don’t mean to do that – but I do want you to understand that it is entirely up to you as to how many and which questions you answer. It is personal and some people do get offended when it comes to actually giving the answers.
Now – the first questions begin, ‘At what age did you…?’ or ‘At what age did you first experience…?’ followed by a specific action or activity. So, ‘at what age did you first experience a mouth to mouth kiss?”
She didn’t have to think, the answer came immediately, as did those to the other questions that related to her first experiences with mutual fondling, at the end of which she giggled quietly, and said. ‘It was an eventful summer!’
I looked up momentarily and gave her an encouraging grin.
‘Were some or all of the previous activities purely with either a male or female partner, or a combination?’
‘Oh definitely male!’
‘Same kind of question as the first ones – ‘At what age did you – fondle a male’s penis, beneath his clothing?”
Again I got the same answer but having ticked the appropriate box I looked up and saw that at that moment she wasn’t looking at me, she was staring off into space – apparently recalling memories, or reliving events – and so I waited patiently until she was ready to continue.
‘Until today I hadn’t thought about you, I mean Jimmy, for years and years. Yet now, it all seems as though it happened only yesterday!
Jimmy was two years older than me – ‘almost a man’ – I thought then. We got so hot! I nearly went all the way with him, I wanted to, desperately – but something held me back.’
She paused and again I just waited, watching as colour again flushed her face. I saw her cross her legs and sit back deeper into her chair and again I wished I could read her mind – knew what was happening there, and in other parts of her body too, as she recalled those memories.
‘I can still remember the actual feel of him in my hand.’ she continued, her voice faint, almost yearning. ‘So strong, so alive!’
She suddenly stopped, sat up again and, still avoiding my eyes, said abruptly, ‘Sorry, Grant I got carried away a bit.’
‘No need to apologise, it’s amazing just how powerful our memories can be, especially those we haven’t recalled for a long time. It’s a bit of a shock to find that they have been there all the time – and are still fresh – isn’t it.’
‘Yes – quite disturbing. But in a nice kind of a way!’ she added with a soft smile as she looked directly at me.
‘Anyway, lucky Jimmy.’ I said, holding her eyes for a second or two before dropping them to the folder again. ‘Should I continue?’
‘Yes, I’m fine.’ she said, still smiling.
‘Next, ‘At what age did you – lose your virginity?”
‘Oh, later – eighteen and a half or so. As I said, I was a bit of a coward when it came to that.’ she added with that soft giggle.
‘Jimmy?’ I asked.
She grinned. ‘No. I don’t know what happened to Jimmy. This was my first, proper love – Brian, Brian MacKenzie. Captain of his school’s football and athletic teams. Brian was big, big in every way!’
‘So, eighteen and a half. ‘Where did it actually take place – car, home, out of doors’ – or somewhere else of course.’
‘The first time?’
‘In an attic!’
I looked up with a startled expression on canlı bahis my face. ‘In an attic?’
‘Yes, sounds crazy when I say it like that doesn’t it.’ She replied, then, as though it was something she had to tell herself, and my presence was actually completely incidental to its recounting, she added. ‘I was at his house for something or other, we’d been talking with his father about school – that’s right, I remember now.’ she went on quickly, as the full memory flooded back. ‘It was the week-end after Brian’s captaincy of the football team was announced. He was over the moon and I was excited for him too of course. His father was just as pleased because it seems that he had also been captain, when he was at school. Brian said he didn’t know that, his father said there was a picture somewhere that would prove it, somewhere in the attic!
We had come close to having sex plenty of times, we had ‘got each other off’ – as we called it – quite often. Anyway, once in the attic we were at each other straight away and that time one thing definitely led to the other. Brian remembered that there was an old mattress in one corner – that’s where we, that’s where it happened!’
She became very quiet, very still, again that far-away look came back into her eyes and I noticed that her hands were clasped more tightly together and that she seemed to be pressing them tightly down against herself. I felt my own body responding too as I tried to visualise the scene – her, as a fresh, young teen-ager, being vigorously fucked for the first time. And wondering just what those memories would now be triggering inside her still vibrant body!
Whatever her thoughts were, I interrupted them. ‘That answers the next question too – ‘Was your first experience with someone with whom you already had an emotional relationship?’ The next is – ‘Other than intercourse, what actual sexual activities were you in the habit of practising?’ There’s a list – ‘Mutual masturbation?”
”Oral-genital, female to male?”
She didn’t answer for a moment and I looked up to find her apparently drifting away again – I had to repeat the question before she answered.
”Male to female?”
I saw a slight frown crease her forehead and she shook her head.
‘No, he wouldn’t – lots of men won’t!’
I quickly made a mental note of her reply before continuing.
The frown was replaced by a puzzled look.
‘Well I suppose there are plenty of other things two people can do together, aren’t there.’
‘True. No, not then – or since I suppose. I must either be a pretty basic sort of a person – or the men in my life have been!’
‘Most people are.’ I replied. ‘The next question asks how long that relationship lasted.
‘Brian and I? Oh, until a little after I had gone to university – just a few months.’
”After the first time, how frequently did intercourse take place?”
She laughed at that. ‘Whenever we could! I was on the pill, Mum wasn’t silly about that, so there was no worry about babies. But it was difficult as a teen-ager, getting away on your own, there always seemed to be someone about. If not your family, then friends.’ she was thoughtful for a few moments, then added. ‘Let’s say, weekly – it probably averaged out at about that.’
‘O.K., next – ‘On each occasion, would intercourse take place just once, or several times?”
‘That’s hard too. Now I have started thinking about it, I can remember so many different things that I thought I had forgotten. But let me see, there were times when we had the luxury of time, then we’d do it again – and again! So, at least twice on a number of occasions.
But often it was just a – ‘quickie’, those times were either after we hadn’t seen each other for days, or when we had ‘fucked like rabbits’ – as we used to call it – the night before. Either way, there were times when we just had to do it that we’d find a corner, a tree, a wall, anything! We just had to have each other
I honestly couldn’t say how many times it would have been more than once, say one in four or five times. Is that all right?’
‘Yes, fine. Now – ‘During that relationship, did you have any other, sexual encounters or partners?”
‘Does that mean full sex, or just anything?’
‘Well, yes there was. Funny, I’ve never, ever told anyone about this before. There was a guy, he’d been trying to get me to go out with him for ages. Well, Brian was away on holiday, with his parents and I was sure he would be, you know, looking around. We’d started having a few arguments during the week or so before he went – anyway, this other guy, Paul, invited me to a party and I thought, ‘Why not! Brian’s enjoying himself, why shouldn’t I?’
It was a great night, we had a really good time and I found that Paul was really quite nice. Anyway, afterwards, on the way home, he parked and of course things began to get heavy. Going out with him was one thing, going all the way with him was quite another. So I did what Brian and I did when there was no alternative, I ‘got him off’! You know, masturbated him – took him in my mouth too.
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