23 comments/ 16671 views/ 4 favorites A Study in Monogamy and Sexuality By: amyyum Amy Baxter smoothed the sides of her duo-patterned primarily light green tight skirt, recently purchased from Anthropologie, as she viewed her reflection in the full length light-surrounded mirror on her walk-in closet door. The lines forming on her forehead and the edges of her eyes didn't please her, but she knew them to be visible only because of the high intensity of the lighted mirror's glare. She was secure enough in her femininity to acknowledge to herself that they were natural consequences of aging and until they became highly visible in normal indoor lighting she had no interest in cosmetic surgery. Foremost in her mind was that for someone forty eight years old that she was remarkably well preserved. She would love to credit some acquired moral virtue for her appearance but knew that to be ridiculous for many reasons, including the fact that her mother looked the same at her age. Her preservation was simply a matter of good genes, helped along by watching her diet and daily exercise. She was immensely proud of her shapely legs, much longer than one would expect of someone five feet six inches tall, and her round ass. Amy took off the bra that she had tried on because she didn't like its feel. It was cut too large for a 34 C. After she removed it she twisted back and forth in front of the mirror to confirm that her bare tits were still firm, pinched her oversized nipples to test their sensitivity, then put on a more comfortable but still elegant "small cut" 34C bra. Her stylish satin blouse conformed to her torso perfectly, and its magenta color was an optimum complement to her green eyes and eye shadow and patterned green skirt. Amy's fashion-critical eye confirmed that the colors of the outfit worked well for her complexion as she carefully brushed her light brown hair, pleased that the auburn highlights her cosmetologist had introduced into her curls masked the small streaks of gray that had started showing up a year ago. As Amy slipped on her three inch "comfortable" magenta heels and turned to exit her bedroom she couldn't help but contemplate the busy day that she had ahead of her. First there was the interview at The SMS Clinic, then lunch with the committee that she chaired for the upcoming ball they were hosting to fund Alzheimer's treatment centers in their city, followed by a delicious sojourn at the Four Seasons with a friend from out of town. That, in turn, would be followed by a drive home to make dinner for Brian, her husband of twenty six years, and Gillian, her twenty two year old daughter who was arriving home for spring break from graduate school. The busy day would hopefully conclude with a steamy sexual encounter with her hubby once Gillian left to party with her home town friends. _____________ The GPS in her Lexus faultlessly directed Amy to the old part of the city, one that she had little familiarity with despite living in the metropolitan area most of her life. As she approached the three story Gothic architecture edifice that housed the SMS Clinic a few minutes before her 8:30 a. m. appointment, she laughed to herself that it was almost like walking into a building on the Princeton Campus when she visited her twenty year old son, Chad. Chad was now a junior at Princeton and due to arrive for his spring break two days hence. As Amy moved up the short flight of granite steps and then toward the first floor reception area of the building she couldn't help but think that the blue color of the interior walls clashed with the Oriental rug and wainscoting visible upon first entry into the reception area. The large mahogany desk also seemed "a little much," but at least everything was aesthetic. "Amy Baxter to see Dr. Sheer and Professor Patton," she said with a smile to the bright-eyed young receptionist with a magenta bow in her blond hair. "Hello Mrs. Baxter," the cheery and polite receptionist replied. "I love your blouse -- magenta is my favorite color." "I can see that," Amy laughed pointing to her bow, "and one of my favorites too." "Would you mind having a seat, Mrs. Baxter? I know that they are expecting you and I'll have them come right out," the young woman said in a sing-song voice as she rose from her seat and scurried toward a hallway in back of her desk. Amy was seated for no more than a minute when the receptionist returned with a man and a woman in tow. "Mrs. Baxter, thank you so much for coming; I'm James Patton," the man greeted her with outstretched hand. As Amy shook his hand and replied "So nice to meet you, Professor Patton," she couldn't help but think that he sure looked like a professor straight from central casting. Billowing brown hair graying significantly at the temples; a goatee with more gray than the hair on his head; a somewhat rumpled appearance despite the quality of his tweed jacket and navy slacks; and penetrating blue eyes. "Please call me 'James'" he intoned as he vigorously shook her hand. "And this is Betsy Sheer," he said, letting go of Amy's hand and turning toward the bespectacled pleasant looking tiny woman on his left. "Nice to meet you, too, Dr. Sheer," Amy said extending her hand. "Please, 'Betsy,'" Dr. Sheer responded as she reservedly shook Amy's hand. "I'll go along with you if you call me Amy; Mrs. Baxter is my mother," Amy grinned "As much as Professor Patton looks his part, Dr. Sheer doesn't look hers," Amy chortled to herself as the researchers agreed with her proposal. Betsy and James chatted with Amy about the history of their office building as they meandered back toward the main conference room. Once there they got directly to the point. "Amy, you have no idea how pleased we are that you agreed to meet with us today, and we hope that you have a full three hours to spend with us," Betsy earnestly spoke while James was busy setting up recording equipment. "I was actually excited to help -- I never thought when I signed up for a general study on monogamy and sexuality with Professor Jenkins as a twenty two year old college senior that I'd be followed all the way to my ripe old age of forty eight," Amy replied with a big smile. "Well considering that we've only been able to track down sixty percent of the participants from that time, a total of one hundred six, we're extremely grateful and can't tell you how important you -- specifically you -- are to our study," James continued while Betsy applied sensing electrodes to various parts of Amy's exposed skin. "Why 'specifically' me, James?" Amy asked. "Because of what's in your dossier, because you've been one of only 10% of the study participants that the study researchers have been able to interview every five years since the study started, because of Professor Jenkins' comments and predictions, and because -- well," James continued, while turning a little crimson, "how can I phrase this..." James was mercifully interrupted by Betsy; "Because you're the hottest prospect in our study -- 'hottest' in the sense of most sexually provocative." Now it was Amy's turn to blush. Recovering quickly she asked "So when did you two take over for Professor Jenkins?" "We took over immediately after his death last year. Because of the turmoil that his untimely passing caused it has been six years since your last interview instead of five, but that is of little consequence," Betsy replied. "He was a very gentle, pleasant, intelligent, man," Amy mused. "Indeed," Betsy confirmed as she continued to place electrodes onto Amy's exposed skin. When Betsy was done placing electrodes she handed a flexible probe to Amy and said "I trust that you've used this before?" "Yes, I have; but in the interests of false modesty would you two mind turning around while I insert it?" Amy hesitantly responded. "Why, of course...sorry," James nervously said as he and Betsy turned their backs. "All done," Amy announced a few seconds later as she sat back down after having inserted the flexible probe into her vagina. After a few background questions, catching the researchers up on Amy's activities since she was last interviewed at age forty two, Professor Patton summarized Amy's past interview results before moving on to the present. "Please correct me if your recollection is different, Amy, but according to our records, based both upon what you told the researchers and your physiological responses to questions, situations, and videos -- which I'll refer to as the three scenarios -- your views on sexuality and monogamy have seemed to change a significant amount over the years. At twenty two you had strong responses in all three scenarios indicating solid adherence to monogamy, and dismissing sexuality as a major factor in your life. Your views seem to have evolved since then, correct?" James asked. "Yes, that's fair," Amy replied. "Both Betsy and I noticed one blip in your psychological responses when you were interviewed at age thirty two that puzzled us. At that time you verbally indicated that you had not had a sexual encounter outside of marriage, and apparently no one inquired about that further despite the fact that your psychological response seemed to contradict your verbal one.. We'd like to pursue that now if we could," James continued. With a sigh Amy responded, "OK. Let me just tell the story rather than answering questions -- it is still hard, twenty years later, to get through." "Please," said Betsy as she and James leaned back in their chairs. "I had a younger male cousin, Jeremy, who had a crush on me virtually his entire life. I was always nice to him even when he had a speech impediment as a youngster. He grew out of that into a charming, handsome young man. Anyway, when I was eight months pregnant with my youngest, my son Chad, Jeremy came to visit as his last stop on his way to Iraq. He had just completed Army basic training. My husband Brian was out of town at the time," Amy sighed, then hesitated. "Go on," Betsy encouraged. "Well Jeremy helped me take care of Gillian, three at the time, who was a handful. She really took to a liking to him. After Gillian went to bed Jeremy's last night there -- I still think this may have been Freudian because I can't believe that I said something like that -- I complained about my crotch being itchy because my pubic hairs were in the stubble stage and that I couldn't see over my belly to shave without cutting myself. He got this wide-eyed 'Bambi' look then volunteered to shave me," Amy gulped. After sipping some water Amy continued. "The look that Jeremy gave me, my constantly surging hormones due to my pregnancy, my knowledge that he had always had a crush on me, and the fact that he was very nervous about going to Iraq, made me agree. Whew! Well, he gently and carefully shaved my crotch and before I even knew that he was done he started licking my mound. To make a long story short, that night he fucked me doggy style twice -- no, actually, that's wrong. He MADE LOVE to me twice. The next morning when Gillian and I took him to the train station he was walking on air he was so happy. I kissed him goodbye and never saw him again," Amy concluded, the last few words accompanied by tears. "So how did you feel about that after he left and Brian returned home?" James inquired. "My pregnancy and three year-old caused me to focus on other things, although I had a few pangs of guilt. However, once Jeremy helped cure me of postpartum depression, I never felt guilt again, just a sense of satisfaction," Amy replied. "I don't understand; how did he help cure you of postpartum depression?" Betsy asked with a baffled expression. Amy steeled herself before responding. "I was suffering postpartum depression after Chad was born. A little over a month after Chad's birth my Aunt called and said that Jeremy had been killed by a roadside IED. I was almost hysterical when providence smiled on me. There was a knock at the door -- it was the postman. I had to sign for a package so I pulled myself together as best that I could." Amy took another deep breath then wiped the tears from her eyes with a handkerchief that James wordlessly handed her. "In the mail was a letter from Jeremy. I can still repeat the opening to the letter word-for-word. 'My dearest Amy. My fear of the unknown in Iraq dissipated before I boarded the train after you and Gillian dropped me off at the station. How many men are as lucky as I was to fulfill my number one fantasy? No matter what else happens I will be a happy mannnn.'" The last word was barely audible as Amy sobbed into the hankie. After Betsy comforted Amy and her tears stopped flowing Amy sat upright and said "After that, and with consultations with my doctor, I snapped out of my depression. Significantly as far as you are concerned, I was never anything but proud and grateful that Jeremy and I had had a loving sexual encounter just before his death." "WOW!" James said while furiously pecking away at his computer and while Betsy just doodled on the pad in front of her. A few more mundane questions broke the "spell" surrounding Amy's narrative before the researchers moved onto the next important topic on their agenda. "Now, Amy, at the time of your last interview you indicated that you and Brian had just had a discussion that was causing your thinking to evolve more so than at any other time in your life. Did the evolution continue?" James asked. "Most definitely," Amy shot back. "My last interview, when I was forty two, was just after Brian and I had returned from a six day Caribbean cruise, sans kids. On the cruise Brian surprised me by engaging me in several serious discussions about married male-female relationships. That is when we weren't fucking," Amy laughed, and the researchers smiled. "Anyway," Amy continued, "Brian started talking about the emotional and motivational erosion that most marriages encounter after what he called 'normal rebound' in a marriage. He also talked about 'intimacy' as the most important factor in a happy relationship and espoused the possibility that people can have true intimacy in a highly satisfactory marriage even though they keep some aspects of their life and response to sexual stimuli entirely secret." "Wow!" Betsy exclaimed. "He was throwing out many technical terms that psychologists studying marriage use. What is Brian's profession?" "He's the Vice President of Human Resources for a Fortune 1000 company. He deals with all sorts of issues relating to job and life satisfaction, and I assume that he came across this information in one of the seminars he attended. Obviously many employees of the company are married, and Brian constantly says that employees satisfied in all aspect of life are the best employees," Amy replied. "We certainly concur with that," James stated as Betsy nodded agreement. "Anyway, for several months after our cruise -- and after my last interview with Professor Jenkins and his team -- I thought long and hard about what Brian and I had discussed. I came to the conclusion -- rightly or wrongly, I'll still not positive but it works for me -- that he was subtly advising me that he had sexual proclivities that he would never share with me, and expected from his interaction and observation of me over the years that I was the same way; and that it was OK, because we had true intimacy in many ways, and true relationship satisfaction," Amy continued as she stood up and stretched. "What did your revelations do to your views on monogamy and sexuality?" Betsy inquired. "My 'revelations,' as you refer to my conclusions from my deep discussions with Brian, made me conclude that sexual monogamy was not essential to a happy and satisfied marriage, and that I would use my sexuality to explore other types of relationships and to advance any lifetime agenda that I considered worthwhile," Amy deadpanned while stretching once again. "What has been the practical result?" James asked. "The practical result -- as you put it -- has been that I have had sexual encounters with eleven men besides my husband over the last five and one-half years," Amy replied with a diabolical grin. "Is there some pattern to those encounters?" Betsy asked after scribbling on her notebook. "For ten of the eleven the pattern was virtually identical -- and I'll save you the trouble of asking about the pattern and just tell you," Amy chortled. "All ten of the men were between about two and ten years younger than I was; all were handsome, clean and at least somewhat happily married; they all lived out of town; all provided me with a 'No STDs' certification before we had penile penetration; and I never had more than four sessions with any of them, and never more than two encounters during any one session. Also, all sessions were in their hotel rooms in the afternoon when Brian was in town, and in all except one instance after our sexual encounter I douched, made Brian a great dinner, and then fucked his ever-loving brains out that night." "How did you find these men?" James asked. "Mostly through contacts with clueless event planners who are friends of mine, some through my activities with a number of national and local charities that I do volunteer work for, and one just by happenstance." "How did you interest them, and even more remarkably, how did you get them to provide 'No STDs' certifications?" Betsy asked, completely perplexed. "I interested them by using my sexuality to the utmost. If after interacting with them for ten minutes or so, including touching their arms and hips, I didn't see a gleam in their eye and tented trousers, I didn't pursue the matter. If I did see those I was blatant. My 'line,' if you want to call it that, that I delivered during our second meeting -- again for all except the 'happenstance' one it was at the second meeting -- was the same. I would take the gentleman aside and say 'Jack. I thought about you a lot since our last meeting. I would be interested in some extracurricular activities that I am positive would be mutually beneficial. However since I detest condoms I would want a certification from you that you are free of STDs, and I would provide you with one. If you are interested there is a clinic at 12th and Jackson and here is my private cell phone number.' Then I would give him a light kiss on the lips, making sure to press my boobs into contact with his chest, and stare at them looking for an immediate response." Both researchers sat back in their chairs, amazed and entranced, for a significant period of time before Betsy regained her wits and said "Wow! A bitch-in-heat; please pardon the expression. So, how often were you successful?" "Ten out of twelve times." "What about the two you weren't successful with?" James anxiously asked. "I treated them both in a very friendly manner whenever I next saw them, but never brought the subject up again. I know that one of the two anxiously wanted to bring the subject up again in a subsequent meeting, but I made sure that I was never alone with him, and never answered the phone when his number popped up on caller ID," Amy replied with a smile. After several minutes of James pecking away at his laptop and Betsy scribbling notes in her pad Betsy had some more questions. "You said that one time you didn't douche, make dinner, and then have -- can I properly describe it as 'lights-out' -- sex with Brian. What happened there?" Betsy asked her words pregnant with curiosity. "That guy I had only one sexual encounter with; he wanted others, but I declined. He was too well-endowed; I guess that I don't have to say more than that, do I?" Amy replied with a chuckle. "It was both the most overall painful, but in some ways pleasurable, experience I had with any paramour. However, I was just too stretched and sore to seek sex with Brian that night, and in fact for one of only a handful of times in our married life begged off when he tried to initiate it. Of course I still did douche and make him a great dinner; Oh, and I gave Brain a blowjob, so he was still happy," Amy laughed. A Study in Monogamy and Sexuality "I'm really curious..." James started to say before Betsy laughed "No kidding!" resulting in guffaws from both Amy and James. "As I was saying before being so rudely interrupted," James continued with a grin, "why do you have 'lights-out' sex with Brian after a 'session,' as you call it? Is it guilt?" Amy was pensive for a few seconds, and stroked her chin before replying. "Except for after the first encounter I can honestly say that I never felt any guilt, probably because of the long deep talks Brian and I had had, and because of my still unsubstantiated belief that Brian would have his own extramarital sexual encounters. The best way that I can describe it was that sex with a paramour got me extremely excited. My libido skyrocketed!" James looked a little perplexed so Amy changed tactics. "While not exactly accurate maybe I can give an example that a male can understand. Say you take your race car out to get all of the bugs out of it, and to try some new techniques that you would never use in a real race. Your laps around the track are very invigorating, and maybe one of the new techniques works well. So then you get in the race and you let it all hang out, your adrenaline already flowing as a result of your practice run, but ramping up even more. Make sense?" James smiled knowingly then asked, "So have you learned any new techniques that you employ with Brian?" "Hell yes," Amy laughed, "although I don't always use them the day that I learn them. Sometimes I practice them a little more before using them on Brian; and I still have to be careful that Brian thinks that it's a new experiment and not acquired the way that I really acquired it. So I usually wait until the third or fourth time with Brian before I do it to the best of my ability." "Can you give an example?" James asked. "I'll give one -- and only one. A guy named Tom asked me to rub my pussy back and forth over the top of his cock before penetration. It was lovely for both of us. Now I do it with Brian at least half the time that we have what Betsy calls 'light-out' sex!" Amy cackled. "Are there some things with paramours that you never use with Brian?" Betsy quizzed. "Sure," Amy quickly replied then hesitated before continuing. "I'll just give one example of that, too. With some paramours I ask for a thin butt plug or small vibrator up my ass while they fuck me. I would never even try an ass toy with Brian because if I got what I expect his reaction would be it would make things very complicated for me; very complicated." "Do you only have sex with Brian the days that you have sex with a paramour?" James posited. "Certainly not," Amy replied somewhat indignantly. "Brian and I usually have sex about three times a week, sometimes more. We sometimes even have what Betsy calls 'light-out' sex at times that I have not been busy earlier that day." "All right; going back to what you said earlier, why do you never have more than four sessions or two encounters per session with a paramour?" Betsy asked. "Very simple," Amy replied while attempting to cross her arms, but realizing that the electrodes on them made that difficult, so instead she placed her hands on her chair. "As far as only four sessions are concerned, I don't want an actual 'affair,' I don't want to fall in love with someone else or have them fall in love with me, and I sure don't want to break up any marriage -- including my own. As far as at most two encounters per session, you should understand that one is by far the norm. Except in fantasyland, since I'm never in their hotel room more than three hours, getting a guy up three times doesn't happen. For the one guy who could have gotten up three times, I was wiped out enough after two to know that a third time would diminish the monkey sex I intended to have with Brad that night." "Makes sense," Betsy nodded while writing on her pad. "Going back to what you said earlier once again -- you said that for ten of the eleven guys the pattern was the same. What about the eleventh guy?" James asked. "You realize that the ONLY reason I'm telling you any of this is because this will forever remain private, and includes doctor-patient confidentiality, right?" Amy inquired. "Yes, of course -- we've given you copies of our confidentiality agreements with the stiff penalties they provide, including being ostracized from our professions," James seriously answered. "Just checking," Amy said with a smile. "The 'eleventh' guy, who I'll call 'Pete,' I met last year when I became chairman of the Alzheimer's Ball. I had been very critical of the net amount of money raised in past endeavors, only on the order of $500,000, and I was vocal enough that I irritated a number of Board members. I think that they gave me the chairmanship to shut me up and/or humble me. Anyway, when made chairman I proudly proclaimed that I would net two million dollars." "You weren't going out on a limb, there, to say that you'd quadruple the amount raised, were you?" Betsy laughed. "Obviously I was," Amy conceded. "However, my drive and innovation had things looking really good. The only thing that I had to nail down to have a real chance at pulling it off was an underwriter for the event to cover all expenses so that all tickets purchased, and other monies raised, would be net proceeds. It was then that Pete, the CEO of a Fortune 500 company, came to town and someone who knew him introduced him to me. The only time that Pete had for my presentation -- seeking $400,000 to underwrite the event -- was one afternoon in his hotel suite between meetings." "Hmmm," James interrupted while stroking his goatee. "Pete was impressed with my presentation, but he was more impressed with me. He's married, about fifty five, fit, and reasonably good looking, so he wasn't too far away from my norm. I could tell that there was something else on his mind when after my forty five minute long presentation he sent his two assistants out on errands and told them to meet him an hour later at their next meeting place. I saw the tent in his pants, picked up on his subtle cues, and then had a decision to make. Did I want to cinch the deal and become an Alzheimer's hero, or did I want to take a chance and negotiate with his Director of Outreach -- a female that I had never met," Amy said with a smile. "I know where this is going," James giggled. "Not exactly, you don't," Amy shot back. "Anyway, I walked over to the external door to his suite, put the security chain and bar on, and as I sauntered back toward him removed my top and bra. His eyes got as big as saucers. He did a reasonably good job of fucking me missionary style, and I made sure that it was all time for him by intermittently squeezing his cock with my pc muscles. When I left he promised to give his Director of Outreach a strong recommendation to underwrite the event." "Did she agree to underwrite it?" James asked. "Not exactly. She was hemming and hawing and making noises like 'Pete would like to talk with you about that one more time,' and the deadline was getting near. So I arranged for a meeting with Pete in his hotel room at a neutral city that he was visiting a branch in. This time I was leaving nothing to chance," Amy said with a severe expression. "You take charity work seriously, don't you?" Betsy snickered. "Hell yes!" Amy exclaimed. "So I drove to the other city, went to his hotel lobby ten minutes before the 'meeting' and called up to his room on the house phone and asked if anyone else was there. He said that they were just leaving. As I said, I wanted to leave nothing to chance so I was dressed like a three dollar whore, with a raincoat covering up my outfit. I waited ten minutes then went up to his room and his tongue was hanging out as soon as I took off the raincoat." "How would you be sure that this cinched the deal?" Betsy asked. "I'm getting to that, don't get your panties in a bunch," Amy giggled. "Well we had another missionary fuck, nice for me, fantastic for him. Then he sucked on my boobs for twenty minutes. Then I went down on him to get him hard again." "'Sorry, Amy,' he told me, 'but I haven't gotten in up twice in a row for thirty years.' I ignored him and just kept sucking and fondling his balls while sticking my pussy in his face. Lo and behold he did get hard again, I rode him cowgirl while he played with my tits, and he made another sperm deposit in my vagina." "I have to say that he was one happy camper," Amy continued, "but I wasn't taking a chance. As I was getting dressed I made a big show about taking a fake movie camera with a green light on it off of a table near the scene of our activities and hit a button on it so that a red light went on. He asked 'What's that?' I casually replied 'A camera.' He immediately followed with 'Let me see that.' As I exposed my hammerless .327 magnum in my purse I said 'Sorry Pete. I really need to make sure that you follow through with underwriting my event.' He turned a little pale then said 'No problem.' I kissed him, with the magnum in my hand, then left and threw another kiss goodbye at the door." At this point both Betsy and James were giggling. "Did he come through?" James asked between giggles. "Hell yes!" Amy smiled. "And we netted about $30,000 more than my boast of $2,000,000, impressing the hell out of everyone involved. In fact they begged me to be chairman again and I agreed, and floated a goal of 2.25 million this year." "Have you heard from Pete again?" Betsy inquired. "Yes. He called again a few weeks ago asking if I wanted to meet him to talk to him about his company underwriting the event again this year. His company got more in free publicity than the $400,000 he paid last year because the event was written up in every newspaper in the entire metro area, was on TV, on all sorts of websites, and even in national publications, all with his company's logo prominently displayed. I told him that I had two other companies begging for the chance to underwrite it for $500,000 but since he had sponsored it last year I'd give him ten days to send me a check and he could sponsor it again -- but no 'meeting.' I got the check five days ago," Amy replied with a Cheshire Cat grin. After some good yuks and joke telling Betsy asked one more related question; "Are you continuing with your extracurricular relationships?" "Yes; I have another one this afternoon," Amy deadpanned. "My third and last with this guy." "Why last -- I thought you sometimes had four sessions with a paramour," James inquired with a raised eyebrow. "He's too good. Last time he gave me so many orgasms that I almost couldn't do what I wanted to do to Brian that night. I can't get attached," Amy deadpanned. "You're sure that you can break it off?" Betsy asked, after having whistled at the "so many orgasms" part of Amy's answer. "For sure; no question about it," Amy smiled. "I do have another prospect that I am meeting for the second time next week so I should be able to move along seamlessly like I have in the past. The guy today isn't the only fantastic lover I've had, and I dumped the other two just fine." "Two final questions before we move to the next phase," James said. "Are you happily married, and if Brian found out about a paramour and demanded that you give up your activities to stay married would you give them up?" Amy responded quickly. "Yes, I consider myself very happily married, and that I have a great life. If Brian found out and demanded that I give up extracurricular activities I would give them up. Lying to him would be much different to me than 'keeping a secret regarding sexual proclivities,' as Brian put it to me." After a pause Amy chuckled then continued, "I wouldn't like it though!" The rest of the meeting, until Amy had to leave at 11:30 to get to her luncheon, the researchers tested Amy's visual and physiological (via the electrodes and probe) reactions to various photos, movie clips, stories, and tactile challenges while blindfolded, and finished with a written questionnaire. As Amy was leaving she asked Dr. Sheer "When will you have results of your study?" "Preliminary results -- although we will do one last set of interviews five years from now -- will be available in about a month since you are the second to last person to be interviewed. Do you want a copy? It will be kind of dry and statistical," Betsy responded. "Yes, I do want a copy," Amy nodded. "Please send the results only to this address, a P O Box in my name only," Amy continued, handing Betsy a card. "Will do -- and thank you for a most enlightening morning," Betsy said with a big smile as she shook Amy's hand, while James chimed in "Indeed!" before also shaking her hand. ___________ At the luncheon the other committee and board members were impressed that Amy already had received the $500,000 underwriter's check. After about ninety minutes of conversation and presentations over lunch Amy adjourned the meeting and sent her fired up staff and committee members out to accomplish their assigned tasks while Amy had her own 'task' to take care of. Namely, her session at the Four Seasons. The interview with the researchers had made Amy's libido skyrocket, so much so that she already had changed into her spare pair of panties that she had intended to use only after her encounter at the Four Seasons. ______________ Amy was so anxious that she arrived at the Four Seasons twenty minutes early. She called up to Austen's room to make sure that he was alone. "Austen, Amy here. I'm running 'hot' in more ways than one. Can I come up now?" "Room 1512 anxiously awaits your arrival," Austen cackled. As soon as Austen closed the door behind her Amy planted a passionate kiss on his lips. When she broke it as she unbuckled his belt she pleaded "Can we fuck right away, please, no foreplay necessary -- I promise to get you off again, but I'm crazy wet and have soaked my second pair of panties already today." Austen only smiled in response. Austen and Amy rapidly undressed each other while still standing, all except for Amy's high heels, which she needed to comfortably pull Austen's lips down to hers. Austen was the tallest, fittest, and youngest of her lovers. He was thirty six, six feet four inches tall, had a swimmer's build, and a beautiful circumcised cock that curved slightly downwardly. Despite Amy's pleas for an immediate fuck he wanted some foreplay. Austen lifted Amy off the ground and turned her upside down, causing one of her shoes to fly off in the process. He positioned her pussy just below his chin so that Amy's mouth was just above his cock. While holding her tightly with both arms his hands massaged and pinched Amy's torso and ass while his lips devoured Amy's pussy and his tongue alternately penetrated it and lapped her clit. "Fuck, you really are wet," he mumbled between slurps. While being pleasured, Amy massaged Austen's balls and licked his cock as best she could until her first, mammoth, orgasm hit. Then she gummed Austen's thighs and grabbed his ass cheeks as she moaned and thrashed while electric charges coursed through her entire body, causing involuntary twitches in all of her appendages. When she finally calmed down Austen flipped her upright and carried her to his pillow top mattress as they fervently kissed. On his bed Austen put Amy on her hands and knees, got behind her, and stroked his rock hard cock over her pussy lips several times as she moaned, "Yes, yes, yes!" He buried himself in one thrust and started fucking her hard, placing his hands on her turgid tits for pleasure and traction, as she banged back the best that she could. It wasn't long before Austen started grunting, Amy's signal to move one hand under her crotch to wipe his flailing balls on each inward stroke. Soon his grunts turned to "Fuck yeas," as he detonated a series of cum grenades in her restless pussy, and Amy screamed in response, overcome by her second orgasm. After some slow stroking Austen withdrew, pulled Amy against him, pried her half-closed eyes open and said "Wow -- you were one supercharged bitch in heat. What's up?" Amy smiled, gave him a playful punch and replied "Are you complaining?" "Hell no," Austen laughed, "that was an all-time fuck. I just wondered what brought your intensity on." "This morning I had an interview for a sexuality study that I have been participating in since college. It got me so hot -- then I started thinking about your lovely cock, and I almost lost it driving to my luncheon meeting, and then from there to here," Amy moaned in response. The happy fuckers massaged, explored, and played with each other's bodies until Amy felt her hormones bubbling up again. Another, more conventional, sixty-nine was in order with Amy on top hungrily sucking Austen's cum-caked dick as he fingered her pussy, ending in a Sicilian corkscrew. Once both were hot and bothered Amy broke away, went to her purse, and pulled out a small vibrator and a tube of lube. "Up my ass, horse," were her only words to her grinning playmate. As Amy straddled Austen, ass facing him, she rubbed his testicles as he lubed up her butt then slowly inserted the vibrator as Amy wiggled her ass back and forth. Once he buried the vibrator to the correct depth he turned it on "low" and Amy started moaning and shivering. She lifted her crotch, held his dick upright, and then slowly impaled her pussy on his meat. The gentle vibration emanating from Amy's ass energized nerve endings in both of their bodies and Amy started her reverse cowgirl ride. Each up and down movement of her pussy on Austen's dick seemed to energize new nerve endings. The downward cant of Austen's cock also caused Amy's G-spot to be invigorated and soon another orgasm hit, causing Amy to temporarily go limp. By now Austen was supercharged, however, so he bucked upwardly with manic intensity causing yelp after yelp to leave Amy's lips as her entire nervous system was overloaded. After more orgasms than she could count, the last two after she gave up trying to ride Austen and just let him pummel the shit out of her, she sensed that he had turned the vibrator to "high" causing her to thrash wilding about and initiating the blast of a river of cum from his penis into the depths of her vagina. Amy was sure that she had lost consciousness for a period of time when she felt the vibration in her anus suddenly stop, and experienced the delicious sensation of the vibrator being slowly withdrawn from her ass. Shortly afterward -- much to her dismay -- Austen lifted Amy off of his softening cock, but then much to her pleasure drew her head to his shoulder as he engulfed her naked body in his arms. They fell asleep almost instantly. Amy woke with a start and glared at the clock next to Austen's bed. "Holy shit it's 4:21," she moaned quickly cognizant of the fact that she needed to drive home, douche, shower, and dress by 5:15 so that she could get dinner started and go pick Gillian up at the train station. Amy bolted out of bed, waking Austen. "Amy, please come back I want to suck on your tits," he moaned with a diabolical smirk on his face. "Sorry dude," Amy giggled as she quickly got dressed. As she rushed into the bathroom to check her hair and makeup -- disasters both -- she felt her panties. Both were still soaked and apparently one had been used by Austen to mop up some of the cum that leaked -- and was still leaking -- from Amy's pussy. She flushed both pairs down the toilet, narrowly avoiding a blockage. She fixed her hair the best that she could, washed her face, applied a small amount of lipstick, and then scurried out of the bathroom, her pathway blocked by a naked smiling hunk with a three quarters hard cock. "Austen, I've got to leave immediately or the shit will hit the fan," she pleaded as he hugged her tightly. A Study in Monogamy and Sexuality "OK, but we need a fourth session then; you're running out and leaving me wanting," he mused while still hugging her tightly. After a short delay she realized that there had to be another session despite her boast to Dr. Sheer and Professor Patton. "All right; when will you be back in town?" she asked while pushing Austen away. "Three weeks," he announced, "if I can make it that long." "You'll keep; hump your sultry young wife some more," she giggled. Then she planted a kiss on his chin and ran out the door. Austen sauntered into the shower and beat his meat to another ejaculation, much less satisfying than the last two. Amy found that it wasn't the best idea to drive while cum leaked out of her panty-less pussy and her mind was preoccupied by the countless orgasms that had just ravaged her body. "Damn it, I forgot the vibrator," also flashed through her brain, although she knew that she could easily get another and that Austen would dispose of the one that had recently been ensconced in her ass. Fortunately those around her were driving defensively and she made it home without an accident. ___________ Amy pre-spotted and rinsed out her cum-caked skirt despite the prominent "Dry clean only" label, douched, showered, gargled with mouthwash, and then douched again. She fixed her hair quickly, didn't bother with makeup, dressed in her "Mom clothes," and actually made it to the station three minutes before Gillian's train pulled in. There was no time to even start a substantial dinner -- she'd have to rely on Brian's favorite carryout place. She phoned in her order on her way home with her bubbly daughter. Gillian, Amy, and Brian had a stimulating reunion. Brian never said a word about their dinner not being homemade since he was too busy chowing down on his favorite Memphis-style barbecued ribs, cornbread, and coleslaw, washed down with a couple of Heinekens. Gillian was anxious to tell all about her grad school courses, the new second year grad student who she was seeing, and her plans for spring break. Brian was thrilled with the results of a new "Satisfaction Survey" he had received that day which pointed to a rise of seven points in employee happiness in his Fortune 1000 employer. Amy related decisions that had been made about the upcoming charity ball; she failed to mention even her interview at The SMS Clinic, let alone her sojourn at the Four Seasons. Having been energized by all of the day's activities, and reinvigorated by what turned out to be a two hour "nap" snuggled up to Austen, as soon as she handed Gillian the keys to her Lexus so that Gillian could meet up with her college and High School friends that were in town, Amy quickly disrobed in front of a wide-eyed Brian. While staring into his eyes she got on her knees, deliberately unzipped his trousers, fished out his two thirds hard cock, and started sucking. After a few minutes emanating pleasure moans Brian bent over, picked Amy up and muttered "Let's take this to the bedroom." "What about my clothes lying in the hallway?" an uncharacteristically shy Amy inquired. "Let Gillian find out what a bitch-in-heat her mother is," Brian growled before planting a passionate kiss on her lips. It wasn't lost on Amy that this was now the third time that day that she had been called a "bitch-in-heat." "Must be true," Amy mused as she returned Brian's kiss with equal zeal. When they arrived in the master bedroom, Amy wiggled free from Brian's grip; removed his pants, shoes, and socks; needed help from him to pull his boxers over his now full size flagpole; and literally ripped Brian's shirt off, popping the buttons all over the place, something that never failed to turn him on. She pushed him onto the bed as he discarded his undershirt before the bitch-in-heat could tear it to shreds, and then shinnied up toward the top of the California King mattress. Amy was on him more like a pouncing cat than a bitch. She rubbed her moist pussy up and down on the bottom of his cock while simultaneously pinching his nipples and staring into his eyes. He returned her glower as he lightly twisted her oversized and highly sensitive nipples until they both could stand it no longer. Amy grabbed Brian's cock, held it upright, and unceremoniously sucked it into her frantic pussy, causing them both to cry out. While supporting herself with one hand on Brian's chest, and reaching behind her to massage his low-hanging balls, Amy started bouncing up and down like on a bungee cord. After a few minutes of this bliss, Brian had other ideas -- he wanted control and to fuck her brains out. Without withdrawing his cock from her slit, Brian flipped them around so that Amy was on her back. Brian moved her heels onto his shoulders and buried himself completely in her pussy. Brian pounded her mercilessly while simultaneously manipulating her tits, bringing her through one orgasm, and then a second as he rocketed his jism deep into her womb. When the contented fuckers separated they lay face-to-face, then smiled, then kissed, then smiled some more. "You're one great fuck," Amy giggled. "You're one fantastic piece of ass yourself," Brian growled. "I don't know how a forty eight year old woman has turned into a better fuck than any twenty-something, but whatever you're doing, please, please keep it up," Brian fake-sneered. "I will, honey," Amy grinned, "that is until I fuck you to death." "What a way to go!" Brian laughed. After the exchange of a few more pleasantries Brian got a semi-serious face on then said "Say, as awesome as our sex life is, do you think that using a vibrator could make it even more awesome?" "What?" Amy giggled. "You want to stick a toy up my ass while you're fucking me you pervert?" "Well," Brian started to sheepishly reply before Amy interrupted him. "I'm game; let's try it and if it isn't something we like we'll just donate the vibrator to Goodwill." "I'm not sure that Goodwill will take it," Brian laughed. "Whatever," Amy giggled. "I'll find one online -- a really small one -- tomorrow. In the meantime can you make slow, passionate, love to me Horse?" "Why don't you let your talented mouth see if I've got another erection in me," Brian responded with a big grin; "I'd love to make another sperm deposit in your snug pussy." Epilogue Two months later, on her way to an afternoon sojourn at The Ritz, Amy got the preliminary report from The SMS Clinic in her P O Box. Skimming the two hundred plus page report one of the conclusions caught her eye: "Of the one hundred six female participants that the study has followed over all of the last twenty six years only Participant 137 stands out as having had both the largest change in her views of monogamy and sexuality, and the highest level of sexual satisfaction and joy in her life." "I wonder who Participant 137 is," Amy cackled to herself.