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Free sex experiment - sex story


Free sex experiment



"Yes, Miss Johnson, this cage of guinea pigs seems to be doing much better than the others. Ahem, that is, group B is doing better than group A!" Betty Johnson peered into the cage to see what it was that Dr. Randolph was looking at. To her surprise the pretty young assistant saw that the four guinea pigs who had been recipients of Dr. Adam Randolph's special combination of glandular extractions were furiously fornicating in the most incredible combinations.

Betty blushed at the sight in spite of herself and then checked her emotions, glancing sideways at the college professor to see if he had noticed her unscientific response. But to her consternation the pretty brunette saw that Dr. Randolph was leering in the most unprofessional manner. "Leering," definitely, and she would almost say, he was drooling as well! But even to think such a thing about the wise, well-thought-of scientist seemed almost sacrilegious. Even though Adam Randolph was not very old, forty-five at the most, he gave the appearance of an elderly man. His prematurely gray hair was partially responsible, and the rest of it was caused by his manner which was that of the absent-minded professor to the extreme.

For several evenings now, however, Betty Johnson had noticed a distinct difference in the professor's manner. He'd been muttering to himself for one thing. Not in the usual way, which she was used to, but in another, rather alarming way, his voice rising and falling in strange cadences as though he were having an argument with some invisible person.

Night work at the university laboratory had been pleasant for the attractive young graduate student up until now at any rate, and she felt herself privileged to be working with the renowned teacher and researcher.

But Betty had a distinct feeling of discomfort as she turned back to look into the cage. "But... but... that's not normal is it?" she inquired. "I mean, this is not the result you expected, surely, Dr. Randolph?" As far as Betty knew, Dr. Randolph was involved with studying the comparative blood-pressure rates of test animals when injected with different degrees of amphetamines.

"Of course, of course!" Randolph replied, his eyes glistening with a smoky lust as he regarded Miss Johnson. "Haven't you ever felt horny after taking a diet pill?"

"What?" The words had such an impact that Betty stepped back as though she'd been given a push. It might not have been nearly so bad if -- being naturally inclined toward plumpness -- the pretty brunette had not been the recipient of many of the different varieties of diet pills on the market. Not only that, but the 24 year old girl had noticed that she felt a very definite tingling, a kind of urgent longing in her loins, usually be the evening of the day which she had taken the pill. She had kept this information to herself, of course, and it was more than disturbing to find that her private feelings were more or less common knowledge.

"Don't tell me you've never felt horny, Miss Johnson! Come now, every young woman does. Every healthy young woman at any rate. There've been all sorts of studies. Surely you've heard of them!"

"Dr. Randolph! Really, are you quite sure... I mean I think I must be getting along home now." Betty backed steadily toward the door. She'd never seen Dr. Randolph looking so strange or heard him saying such awful things! It was so unsettling that the young woman stumbled against a table and knocked over a beaker of water which was used for the test animals. Flustered, she bent to pick up the broken beaker and attempted to mop up the water, realizing that Randolph was standing there looking at her uplifted buttocks all the while.

But Adam Randolph was muttering to himself again while watching his pretty young assistant scrambling about in an attempt to get the water up.

"Evidently," he said, "new studies are necessary. Studies which will prove to the general public the efficacy of sex. The wonder of sex and its natural purpose in this world! I could change the entire repressed structure of society if I could make such a study!"

Betty Johnson's sensually rounded buttocks jiggled pleasingly within the confines of her tight fitting white uniform as she mopped up the water. Randolph contemplated those salient nether cheeks with a new interest in the light of his latest idea. He was tired of being a revered member of the faculty of the big New York City college. Already it seemed as though his best years were behind him rather than ahead of him. He was doing comparatively unimportant experiments, teaching comparatively unimportant classes. All the rest of his life could be foreseen in one fell swoop. Adam had been depressed about this simple fact for weeks now, maybe months.

Not that Adam hadn't known it for a long while. But knowing it and beginning to let the idea affect him were two different things.

"You're just like an old man!" his wife Helen had said to him the night before in one of her frequent fits of anger with him. And afterward when Helen was asleep in her twin bed, Adam had gotten up and gone to look in the mirror. He not only looked like an old man, but it was true, he felt like one. It was then that he resolved to do something about the trend his life was taking. To take things in hand as it were. Instead of letting things happen to him, he would make things happen!

Adam thought now of Helen's tears. Almost nightly tears they were now, and all about the same thing, sex! Well, sex was on his mind, too, but not the same way it was on Helen's. Helen wanted romance, and Adam had anything but a romantic nature. His interest in sex was more of a curiosity, and therefore he knew that nothing he ever did would truly satisfy his wife. Why bother to try then, was his attitude.

But wouldn't it be interesting to see Miss Johnson's response to the hardness of his impatiently throbbing penis? Adam was newly aware of the raging erection that he had and found the phenomenon extremely interesting. He couldn't remember ever having an erection in the laboratory, and the fact that he had one now was certainly something new. It was all in line with his new trend of thinking though, with his new life, and Adam felt a surge of excitement, beyond the lust that he was already feeling for the flustered Miss Johnson.

He advanced slowly, thinking to himself that Miss Johnson would make experiment number one. The first in a series. The first indeed in what he intended to make an extensive research project!

Betty Johnson looked behind her and tried to get up from her kneeling position, but Dr. Randolph grabbed her by the arm and forced her to remain as she was.

The feel of his hand, hard and oddly cold on her arm made the young, dark-haired woman suddenly hysterical. She was certain that the professor had gone stark raving mad and that he was about to do something dreadful, kill her maybe. The papers were full of such things!

"Oh, please, PLEASE!" she cried, "LET ME GO, LET ME GO!"

"Just a simple experiment, Miss Johnson. I must say, you've been a wonderful assistant thus far. Now with my new work, perhaps you'll be equally as talented." Adam's voice was calm now, as calm as it was when he was talking to his students in class, for he was on home territory, in a way, and his mind was already taking note of Miss Johnson's reactions to his advances.

Easily, he got down to his knees, unmindful of the cracking that betrayed a lack of exercise. Betty was trembling and crying, begging him not to hurt her.

"But why would you think I would hurt you?" he asked curiously. "I assure you I have no such intentions." Already he could smell Miss Johnson's crisp perfume, mixed with the heady sweat of her aroused emotions. The scientist's nostrils flared as his fingers began to move along Betty's arms. Then, still holding the girl firm with one hand, the professor let his hand drop down to the hem of her white smock. He hiked it up unceremoniously and thrust his fingers up underneath. The tips of his fingers encountered her warm smooth thigh flesh and her panty-enclosed buttocks that quaked as his fingers ran hungrily over their surfaces.

"Calm, calm," he told her as though speaking to a lab animal. "This won't take long!"

Betty couldn't believe that it was happening to her. Many late nights she and her roommate would stay up talking about such things, but Betty had never dreamed such a thing would happen to her. She had contented herself with the thoroughly predictable advances of her boyfriend, Carl, with whom she made love approximately once a week at his minuscule Greenwich Village flat. She enjoyed Carl, although it wasn't difficult to imagine a more forceful lover, an energetic lover who would make her quiver with anticipation at odd times of the day or night! Betty had never had the chance to find such a person though, and Carl was really the first person with whom she had had an intimate relationship. She couldn't really count the boy who had first taken her virginity in the back of her father's hardware store in Schenectady. No, that hardly counted at all.

But this counted! It was odd how just thinking about it could make the strange behavior of her professor something totally different. Instead of the horror that came with being forced to submit to the teacher's lewd and obscene advances, somewhere inside, the experience was being changed into something different, something real and much more exciting than anything that she'd ever known. This is what her teacher was offering to her now, an erotic experience that would top all the experiences she'd ever had!

The young brunette's moans of desperation slowly changed as she felt Adam's fingers slipping upward to the elastic waistband of her nylon panties. He was tugging them downward over the smoothly rounded mounds of her buttocks. Already, sensing the young woman's compliance, Randolph no longer used a restraining hand on her arm, but both hands were busily peeling down the young assistant's panties. He gave a gasp of admiration as he saw her warm, naked ass-cheeks, unblemished, delectable!

Despite herself, Betty couldn't help wondering just what he would do next. But whatever she had expected, it was not what happened, for suddenly she heard her professor moan hungrily, and then she felt him drop down behind her nakedly offered buttocks. The next thing, the dark-haired graduate student felt was his heated breath and then a thrilling wetness back between her spread thighs. Dr. Randolph was tonguing her from behind, sticking the quivering tip of his tongue deep into the wetly throbbing lips of her pussy and licking lewdly within her sensitive layers of cuntal flesh.

"Oooooh!" The dark channel of Betty's hair-trimmed pussy began to twitch in heated arousal. No one had ever done such a thing to her. Could she? she wondered. Could she actually enjoy such an obscene act? Her nakedly exposed buttocks were oddly still as Betty's humiliation turned into a blatant carnal excitement. It was a stirring deep in her loins as well as in her mind as wicked tingles of pleasure wove in and out of the pores of the sensitive flesh up between her legs. The gentle stroking of her attacker's tongue made her feel totally wanton, totally free in a way she had never dreamed was possible! Her very position, half naked with her panties halfway down, kneeling on the floor of the lab like this, brought a greater excitement, and the pretty young assistant felt all control slipping away. All thought was mercifully blotted from her mind, whereas with her boyfriend, all she did was think, think, think through the whole thing. This was something wildly different, though, and she was a writhing mass of feminine sensuality, created for loving, and nothing more or less.

"Mmmmmm," Betty begged, squirming her ass-cheeks backward to meet Dr. Randolph's madly licking tongue. "Mmmmmmm!" she repeated as the scientist changed his position so that he had an even better vantage point between the twenty-four year old's quivering white thighs. At the same time, he parted Betty's legs as he attached his mouth to the wide open split of the young woman's streaming pussy and began to suck upon the passion-drenched pinkness of her inner flesh with new enthusiasm.

"Ooooohhhh!"

Suddenly, she felt Dr. Randolph's hands creeping up to her waist and then clasping her heavily swaying breasts. His fingers began to play through the material of her lab smock, feeling the pebble hardness of the assistant's fully erected nipples. With a little squeal that signaled her surrender, Betty abandoned herself to the sudden rushes of pleasure as the fingers that were so familiar to her in the laboratory or during a class tantalized her erotically tingling breasts. And now, down between her widespread, trembling thighs, her desire-inflamed cunt felt like a hot, glowing coal that would reach greater and greater heights of lust the longer the forbidden sucking continued.

"Mmmm! Mmmm?" Randolph murmured inquiringly into Betty's succulent young cunt. This was the best idea he'd had in years! He would remember each and every detail for recording in his notebook, for this auspicious evening marked the very first experiment of the work that would soon make him famous.

"Going to put it to you! Gonna give it to you! Mmmm? Mmmm!" he declared, raising his glistening wet face. The ardent researcher's jowled cheeks reflected the excitement he was feeling as he quickly opened his zipper fly and withdrew his thickly pulsing cock. It felt rock-hard in his steady hands, and he could hardly wait. Before him was the submissively kneeling figure of his lab assistant. He took in the lewd image of the young woman's nakedly exposed buttocks, of her glistening wet cuntal hair that pouted in a small triangle below. She was just ready and waiting for his long, hard cock. And he was really going to take her right then and there!

Betty stirred and moaned at the sudden loss of contact between her yearning pussy and his wonderfully licking tongue.

"She really wants it bad!" Randolph noted for future reference. As if to echo his own thoughts, he spoke the words out loud and kneeled up toward the dark-haired woman's widespread buttocks and thighs. He looked down at the shapely mounds of silken flesh and bent to ease her ass-cheeks still farther apart. Beneath the dull pink of Betty's anal opening lay the pulsing aperture of her almost hidden vagina. He felt himself drooling over the mouth-watering sight of the young woman's nakedness and wondered about the fact that she wore no stockings at all. Only a pair of low-heeled pumps and the panties. In his time, all women wore stockings unless they were at home, and even then they were apt to be more than fully clothed unless getting ready to bathe or bed. It was clear that he had a lot to learn as he went about his research. With a pained expression, the middle-aged scientist pushed his heavily bloated cock forward and began to worm the smooth, rubbery head of it in between the dark pubic curls and up, up into the wetly heated cuntal flesh that was now spread wide before him. It was all perfectly clear in every detail in the bright laboratory lights, and Dr. Adam Randolph felt that nothing had ever been so important to him as this moment.

"OOoooaaahh!" Betty responded to the hotly throbbing penis that slowly slid up inside her helplessly aroused female flesh. Her pleading whimpers filled the laboratory as Randolph thrust the lust-thickened head of his cock up into the palpitating entrance of Betty's willing pussy, pushing upward, continuing in a slow, constant act of relentless penetration until his long hard penis was completely buried to the hilt within the soft warmth of the trembling grad student's belly.

"Goooodd God! OOoohh GOD!!" Betty cried as behind her, Randolph gritted his teeth at the almost unbearably pleasurable sensation of his pretty assistant's cuntal muscled tightly massaging his deeply embedded penis.

The scientist's thick-set body inclined back from the pliant flesh of Miss Johnson's naked buttocks as his probing penis tried to reach the farthest depths of the young woman's totally filled pussy. He did not want to stop until it was completely out of sight, buried so deep up inside the young brunette's hair-lined vaginal opening that his sperm-filled testicles would fit snugly up against her warm flesh. From his excellent position behind the straining twenty-four year old, Randolph shuffled forward just as Betty began to rotate her hips lewdly backward to meet his rigid cock-flesh. Again and again, the kneeling Dr. Randolph thrust up against her wide-held pussy, forcing his rigidly throbbing cock deep into the liquid heat of his young assistant's hungrily contracting vagina.

"Go, go!" he said, deciding that some encouragement was called for. "Go!" The excited professor could not help but think of his wife at a moment like this. Poor Helen with her restricted ideas. This was what sex was all about. It was a test of wills, a sport!

And if this wasn't what it was all about, he, Dr. Adam Randolph was going to find out what was. Maybe one day he would even bring old Helen around to his ideas!

Meanwhile, he was completely satisfied to have had such initial success with the lewdly moaning Miss Johnson.

Dr. Randolph could feel the young assistant's soft cuntal lips clasping tighter and more hungrily around the fleshy intrusion of his desire-hardened cock. She was grinding backward against him letting all the hidden perversity of the moment fill her mind and body.

The young brunette girl could feel her warmly tingling breasts being manipulated by her teacher's hands, and each burning touch created a conflagration within her that only heightened the fiery lust between her legs. The powerful upstrokes that buffeted her farther forward with each thrust were striking hitherto untouched upper regions of her womb, filling and stretching the tender flesh with a strangely fulfilling pleasure. The aroused young woman could feel a joyful culmination being wrung from her tormented loins.

Betty tried to speak, but her throat felt dry and tight. There was a sudden sensation of floating, drifting unmoored through space. With eyes tightly closed, her whole being present and participating in the lewd act being performed upon her, the dark-haired twenty-four year old felt a bursting within her, and it seemed she was walking a narrow line between sanity and insanity. How could she be doing this, and yet how could she have waited so long to know such mind-boggling delights? From every point inside her outraged body there was a hurtling of sensations that started in her ecstatically pulsing vagina and spread like wildfire: "NNggaah! AAH! Oh, Professor! Professor RANDOOLLPPHH! I'm cummingg! AAIIEEEE! I'M CUUMMIINNNGGG!"

"Yes? Yes? Like it? Feel good, does it?" The perspiration-soaked Adam Randolph held on tight to his student's convulsing ass-cheeks and, leaning way back, gave her everything he had. Grunting, sweating and trembling as his burgeoning cock wormed its way into the hotly contracting channel of female flesh, Adam could feel his own orgasm spreading from his cum-filled testicles along the length of his rock-hard penis until at last, the scalding hot sperm shot forth up into the heated depths of her tight little womb.

"Ooohhh! Oh, Christ!" His head jerked backward, the thin gray strands of his hair wet and glistening with sweat as Adam's eyes rolled toward the brightly lighted ceiling of the laboratory. For the first time he saw those lights with a new perspective. Science, he felt, was going to be another story from now on. His life was going to take on new dimensions! Adam lifted Betty's erotically trembling and quaking hips upward now, after releasing the soft warmth of her ass-cheeks and drove his wildly jerking penis to the hilt one final time. His fingers gripped so hard on the pale, naked flesh of her buttocks that the skin turned red where he touched. The married scientist emptied his ejaculating cock deep, deep into his assistant's wildly climaxing pussy and rejoiced at her lewd response.

Betty made herself a willing receptacle for his copious discharge of sperm, receiving the jism within every fold of her ecstatically quivering cunt, feeling its warmth feeding the throes of her second tumultuous orgasm as she babbled forth a steady stream of jumble words.

"Oohhh, me, meee! Oooh NOoow, now, now! Oh, needed it! Needed it! Aaaagghh!"

Adam Randolph watched the incredible spectacle with great interest. He felt so many things at once that it was amazing. So many things that he worried about whether he would be able to record it all in detail later. Why, for example did he think of his wife Helen at this crucial moment? Helen who had never let herself go enough to have an orgasm like this in her life. Had Helen really ever had an orgasm or had she faked them all? While Betty shuddered in carnal delight before him, Adam pulled out slowly, his softly deflating cock glistening wet and limp. But he felt more than pleased. He was exhausted, yes, but what new and wonderful worlds of scientific achievement were opening up. Clumsily, the scientist got to his feet and, panting a bit, stood over the lewdly kneeling body of his young laboratory assistant. Then he turned and headed toward the bathroom. Before he went in, he called over his shoulder, "Miss Johnson. Oh, Miss Johnson. Don't go before I have a chance to talk to you. I have a few questions to ask about what you felt."

The cute laboratory assistant's eyelids fluttered, and she rolled over on her side, too weak to remain kneeling any longer.

CHAPTER TWO

"Helen!" The psychiatrist's voice was imperative. "You must calm down. Now remember everything we discussed in my office last Thursday."

"I do remember!" The pretty blonde thirty-five year old ran her fingers nervously through her hair. "But it doesn't do me any good remembering at the time. I'm telling you, Stan. I just don't know what I'm going to do! I feel like killing Adam. Either killing him or killing myself!"

"Now, that wouldn't solve much would it?" Stan's voice was calm now, more like the voice he used in the office with his patients unless some other tone was called for.

"It would solve everything!" Helen was sitting in the bedroom of the apartment looking toward the big mirror that hung over the dresser. In it she could see herself, still pretty save for the expression of anxiety on her face. Her disheveled blonde curls hung to her shoulders which were naked except for the thin strand of the straps of her gown. The distressed wife hadn't even gotten dressed that day, and it was nearing dusk now. Her own words seemed to echo in her head as she stared at her reflection across the room. Then her attention went back to her analyst. He'd been talking for some time, she realized, and she didn't have the faintest idea of what he'd been saying. She was pleased to note, however, that she had brought out that "concerned" tone in his voice. He always sounded extra careful when she got to talking about killing herself. That would teach him, she thought. If I really did it. That would teach Adam, too!

"Helen, you've got to understand that you must help yourself. In this way, you'll be helping Adam, too. You see, you can't change him before you change yourself. He is responding to the old person in you, not the new woman you wish to be."

"I'll help him, all right! I'll strangle him next time he comes home and falls asleep on the sofa! I'll strangle him!"

"That's just the kind of thing I'm talking about, Helen!"

"Why do I have to be reasonable? I'm sick and tired of being reasonable. What's it gotten me so far? A tired old man for a husband! No sex, no one to talk to, no nothing!"

"Adam is a very distinguished scientist. That's something."

"But what about me?" Helen vehemently pointed to herself while looking at her negligee-clad form in the mirror.

"You'll have to make your own way, Helen. That's what I've been telling you. Now as far as sex is concerned, you've got to realize that you can find sex outside of marriage. This might be just the thing to bring a little life back into the marriage."

"Oh, for crissakes, Stan. Where am I going to find a lover?"

"Other women manage."

"Are you trying to bring me up or put me down?"

"Neither, I'm just trying to point out what the trends are today. There's nothing sinful about sex, Helen, and more and more people are finding this out every day. One day you, tool will realize it."

"I'd love to realize it, but with my husband. That's why I married him. I didn't realize that it was going to be all over after the first two years. I mean, if I didn't know Adam, I'd swear he had another woman!"

The prospect brought out such a rage of jealousy within Helen that her hand shook on the telephone. She was brought to her senses, however, by the thought. No, she would never commit suicide and let Adam find another woman to marry. Another woman with whom he might be happier than he was with her! No, she'd never let that happen!

"How about you, Stan? Why don't you make love with me, since you're such a liberal type?" she asked tauntingly.

"Well, I don't think that would help your analysis, really," Stan answered. Helen hated him sometimes, and this was one of them.

"You're rejecting me," she told him. "Don't tell me you've never made love with one of your patients!"

"I didn't say that."

"GO TO HELL!" Helen slammed down the telephone and threw the entire set across the room. It made a satisfying noise of bells and thick plastic as it hit the wall, and the low hum of the dial tone reached her from where she sat. "What good is analysis anyway?" she asked herself out loud. Once more she contemplated never going to see Stan again. She couldn't see that the psychiatrist was doing her any good. But then she wasn't sure of that either. It was hard to tell. She certainly didn't agree with half the things he said to her. But then he was the doctor, and she was the patient. He was just about the only person that she talked to, and the thought of starting out all over again with another analyst was depressing to say the least as was the thought of trying to muddle through her life on her own.

Slowly, Helen rose and began to slip out of her black lace gown. It had been bought with the idea in mind of tempting her husband into some kind of interest in her. But it had not worked, of course. Tears brimmed to the blonde wife's eyes as she uncovered the smooth creamy planes of her naked body. Her large breasts were just as firm and attractive as ever with their rosy tips that were thick and pouting, just waiting for Adam's fingers or even his mouth. She blushed at the thought. How long had it been since he'd made love with her? Really made love? It had been two weeks now since he'd touched her, and now as she thought about it, Helen realized that he hadn't actually touched her. No, he'd made a few in and out motions, his penis fitted snugly inside her, and then he'd cum and he rolled off to the side, and that was it. He'd never once kissed her or felt her breasts or anything else for that matter during the entire brief operation.

She just couldn't go on like this! The golden blonde area of her pussy caught her attention in the mirror. Her thighs were full and long, and the smoothly rounded mounds of her buttocks were just the right size. Why then couldn't she manage to attract her own husband? What was wrong with her? She knew that Stan would say, "There's nothing wrong with you, Helen. If anything there's something wrong with him, but that is not the point. The point is to approach the problem from an entirely different angle."

Well, tonight, that's what I'm going to do! Helen resolved. I don't care what, I'm going to get him to pay some attention to me!

***

Adam Randolph pulled his Ford Pinto into the apartment house garage and got out. He left it at the entrance within the building, knowing that Howie would come and park it for him in the space allotted to him. Then he took the elevator up to the 12th floor and stepped out. His briefcase contained the precious notebook in which he had begun the notes on his new experiment, including the short questionnaire which he had had Betty Johnson fill out for him. He was looking forward to rereading it all in his study once he entered the spacious apartment. He lived in one of the few old apartment buildings left in New York, a spacious apartment with high ceilings and seven rooms was a luxury that the professor fully appreciated. Of course, he had gotten the apartment through a friend when he'd gotten the post teaching at the university. He and Helen had moved from New Jersey seven years before and settled into the apartment. For a while Helen had grumbled about the hectic city life and the fact that they knew hardly any of the neighbors, but eventually she'd seemed to get used to it, or as used to it as she ever would. In any case, there was no question of moving for the professor. His work was here in the city, and his position was a coveted one among his colleagues. He taught several classes, lectured two times a month, and had unlimited use of the laboratories at the school. What more could he ask?

Randolph chuckled to himself as he fit his key into the lock and turned. Now he knew what more he could ask, all right! It was late, and the professor expected his wife to be in the bedroom sleeping. He would go directly to his study and reread his notes. By God! His loins were still throbbing at the thought of what he'd done to Miss Johnson! He couldn't wait to go over the whole thing again, verifying his experiment.

With a spring in his step, Adam went into his study and flicked on the light. To his surprise, he saw that his wife was sleeping on the sofa!

"Helen!" he gasped. "What the devil?"

Helen sat up, blinking her eyes. She clutched the sheet up to her neck, remembering that she was naked beneath it. Now she didn't feel nearly as bold as she had earlier when she'd decided to waylay her husband in his study, the place where he spent most of his time when he was home. No, now she was just sleepy, and she felt foolish to say the least. But her husband stood looking at her so incredulously, his mouth gaping fish-like at the sight of her that Helen grew suddenly angry and defiant. Why did he look at her like that? How stupid he looked standing there with his briefcase wearing that same old overcoat and that hat that she hated. Was she such a stranger to him, so little a part of his life that the sight of her in his study would shock him so?

"I thought I'd wait for you here," she said tersely, "since you hardly ever get to bed anymore!"

"Well, really, Helen!" Adam moved at last, placing his briefcase carefully upon his big oak desk and turning on the small lamp on it. He slowly unbuttoned his overcoat and took it to the closet and carefully hung it up the way he usually did.

Watching him, Helen grew more and more distressed. "Are you going to continue to ignore me, then?" she asked.

Adam turned toward her. "Why, I'm not ignoring you," he said. "I'm merely hanging up my coat."

This only infuriated Helen all the more. "Hanging up your coat! Huh!" she grunted, playing for time, trying to think of what tack to take now. The pretty blonde woman had visualized it all quite differently, and now she was forced to deal with a reality which was growing more and more confusing.

"I... I thought we might talk a little!" she declared, her blue eyes glinting with anger.

Adam sat down behind his desk. "Talk? About what?" he inquired as though she had said the strangest thing in the world.

"Anything. About anything!" Helen spat out. "I'm a woman, Adam! I need companionship. I need..." Her voice trailed off and a crimson shade colored her features. She grappled and twisted at the pink sheet she had brought in from her bedroom, feeling more naked than she'd dreamed possible underneath. Why hadn't she just gone to bed as usual? It was Stan's fault that she had attempted this confrontation!

"Yes?" Adam looked at his wife inquiringly. What was it anyway? Why didn't she leave him alone? Of all times to come bothering him, just when he was at the commencement of a very important phase of his life and his work.

"SEX!" The word slipped from Helen's lips and seemed to hang suspended in the room. Helen was aware of all the books on the shelf behind her husband's back. She felt mortified. How could she have said such a thing? She had, of course, intimated as much in the past, but never had she come right out and said it!

Adam regarded his wife and realized for the first time that she was naked underneath the sheet. His first reaction was to look down at his briefcase as if to ascertain that it was still there. Just looking at it gave him a raging erection, and the middle-aged scientist could feel his penis throbbing with life again.

"Sex?" he repeated, dumbly.

"Yes!" Helen felt she might as well brazen it out now that she'd started it. "You'd think you'd never heard of the word!"

Adam patted his briefcase absent-mindedly. "Oh, I've heard of it. Yes, I've heard of it."

Helen could stand it no longer. Suddenly, she jumped up and let the sheet fall away from her. There she stood, completely unclothed, her naked body lovely and trembling in need before her husband. "I'm not so bad, am I?" she asked. "I've got eyes. I can see myself in the mirror. I still look pretty good!"

"Yes, yes. You look fine!" Adam hastened to reassure her, noting that Helen was on the verge of becoming hysterical. That was the last thing he wanted. It was so disruptive.

"Beautiful! Say I look beautiful!" Helen spat out. "SAY IT!"

Funny how now that Helen was standing there in front of him stark naked, he was thinking of Miss Johnson. He would have to make a note about this. Nevertheless, Adam felt a definite excitement growing again inside him. If it was sex that Helen wanted, he supposed that he could accommodate her at this particular moment. Anything for a little peace and quiet. Couldn't very well have her going around screaming half the night when he had work that he wanted to do.

"Beautiful. Yes, you do look beautiful," he said compliantly.

"Oh, Christ, why can't you ever say anything on your own?" Helen cried, disheartened. She felt ashamed and reached for the sheet to cover her body. "I'm leaving. Get on with your work!" she said.

"No, don't go, Helen. I've got a little time." Adam got up and came toward her. As he drew near, the scientist could see that his wife was trembling and that she was extremely upset, and yet, he kept thinking about the voluptuous Miss Betty Johnson and how she had responded. "Come on, Helen, let's go into the bedroom," he said, taking his wife's arm gently.

Helen felt a surge of hope. A feeling of lewd excitement stirred in her loins despite her misgivings. Meekly, she accompanied her husband through the living room of their apartment, a room that was hardly ever used, to the bedroom. Once there, Adam headed her toward the bed while he began to undress. Helen slipped under the covers of the bed and watched her husband of ten years as he took off his clothes. Her breathing was shallow, guarded, and her eyes were half-closed as she waited for him. She dared not make a prediction about what was to happen or to think too much about just how her plan had apparently worked.

But when the thick knob of Adam's hardened penis came into view, Helen's heart skipped a beat. "Oh!" she gasped. She hadn't seen him look like this in years. Deep down inside, the blonde wife felt a sensation of impending happiness. She watched him coming toward her and felt a slight moistening down there between her legs. How she wanted him! How she loved her husband, still, despite everything! Soon he would be holding her, loving her. Perhaps he had finally seen just how much she needed him, needed to be loved by him.

She accepted him above her, felt the adjustments of his body to hers, the stomach that had thickened with the years pressed against her softness, her breasts touched up against his chest. Without too much ado, his knee spread her leg to the side.

"Oh, Adam, darling," she sighed.

Then the round head of her husband's penis touched at the soft, hair-trimmed entrance of her vaginal slit and throbbed against the quivering length of the moist little furrow. Experimentally, Adam moved his rock-hard cock up and down in the seething heat of his wife's yearning pussy until on one down-stroke, it was worming up against the tight entrance of her vagina. She felt it pushing against her and spread her legs hungrily, wanting the full, hard length of him way inside. She felt as though he'd never been so hard! She had to have him up inside her. Spontaneously, the excited wife placed both her hands on her husband's back, sliding them down toward his naked buttocks and holding on tight. Then spreading her legs around his body, she bent them obscenely around his back and pulled herself up brusquely, forcing his lust-stiffened hardness to slide directly up into the passion-drenched pit of her hotly waiting pussy. At first the tightness of her vaginal channel was a restrictive force, but then the delicate tissues accustomed themselves to his hard, male girth, and he was swallowed up to the tip of her womb. Helen thought she would burst with love for him as her lust grew minute by minute. This was the way it was supposed to be between them. Whatever had gone wrong before would be miraculously tightened by this act.

"Adam, I love your love you," she murmured into his ear. Helen moaned, open-mouthed, as the tip of her tongue swirled excitedly within her husband's ear. The snug feeling of his warmly throbbing hardness up inside her quivering cunt gave her the sense of completion that she had missed. But all that was over now. They would make love often after this night, she just knew it! He was going to fuck into her with long, even thrusts, burying the head of his penis harder and harder each time. She was going to cum so incredibly against him!

Randolph held her like this for a long moment, making a mental note of his wife's impatience. He could feel his testicles dangling in the upturned crevice of her spread ass-cheeks, and a surging tingle swept through him.

"Nnnugh..." he groaned, his thick cock bucking uncontrollably inside the tightly clasping passage of his wife's desire-tautened pussy. His sperm broke forth without warning, jetting in sporadic jerks between the milking muscles of Helen's vaginal passage, splashing against the sensitive surface of her womb.

"OOohhaaah!" He cried out, as overwhelming sensations of orgasm traversed his jerking cock and sent chills of delight throughout his entire body. He was thinking of his work, of the many women he would study, of the success he would become. The book which would be on the best-seller list week after week. His picture in the Times, on the cover of Newsweek and Time. It was good! He collapsed heavily onto his wife's still body, oblivious to the soft warm feel of her nakedness.

"Mmmmmm," he sighed, and then came the regular cadence of his breathing.

Helen was so stunned that she scarcely had time to realize that it was over.

"Oh, God! Oh God, no!" she said. Bitterness and frustration rose within her, mixed with anger and self-pity as tears began to form in her eyes. She no longer felt beautiful. She felt used and ugly!

Brusquely, she slid out from under her exhausted husband and, getting up from the bed, fairly ran into the dining room where she found a bottle of wine in the cabinet and opened it. Hastily, she filled a glass and drank it down. She carried the bottle into the living room along with her glass and sat heavily on the couch in the darkness, drinking down the white liquid until the bottle was almost 3/4 gone.

Alternately, the distressed wife began to sob and laugh, and then scarcely aware of her own actions, her hands moved furtively to the heavy swelling of her full, well-rounded breasts. Her nervous fingers began to stroke the hardening nipples automatically. A growing current of warmth ran through her veins as if her own touch made up for her husband's lack of interest. With breathtaking clarity, memories of how Adam had made love to her on their wedding night came back to her. She could almost feel the way his then-muscular body had enveloped her, feel his soft yet firm caressed and the hardness of his blood-filled penis as it inched upward into her eagerly willing pussy. Her eyes were closed now as she thought of all this and of the hours that they used to take in their love-making. Mindlessly, the pretty blonde wife ran her hands over her nakedly quivering body, desperately trying to soothe her loneliness and assuage the aching emptiness she felt.

"Oh!" the sharp gasp could not be suppressed as Helen felt a ripple of strong desire steal over her. She lay out on the living room couch, feeling her anguish building as her hands began to cup and caress her warmly tingling breasts. The distressed wife was painfully aware of the aching void down there between her legs. The wine had only served to make it worse. Suddenly clamping her erotically trembling thighs together, Helen struggled to suppress the insidious longing that crept throughout her loins, but the increased pressure only fed the impulse and strengthened it into a tightening knot of shameless arousal.

Tentatively, Helen pinched the throbbing tips of her nipples and moaned as rippling sensations of warmth spread quickly from their sensitively hardening flesh. Lewd images kept coming to her mind, the obscene hope she'd felt at the sight of her husband's desire-thickened penis haunted her. She pressed her open palm over the hair-covered mound of her wetly pulsating cunt. She pressed harder, seeking to contain the passion that seethed unchecked within, but only making it erupt within her love-starved body. Helen's finger stole gently into the pulsing folds of her moistly heated cunt, and for a split second, her middle finger brushed against the tiny nub of her clitoris, making her moan aloud from the sudden searing contact.

The lewd temptation of the forbidden act was too much for the disappointed housewife, and she felt the final vestiges of restraint giving away. With a savage moan of desire, Helen frantically rubbed at the source of her passion. Moaning softly, she allowed her caressing fingers access to the hair-trimmed surface of her desire-filled pussy. Breathing in ragged gasps, Helen propelled her fingers into the famished center of her cuntal mouth. The soft, vibrant feeling that came over her grew stronger as she lay there, lovely and naked in the dark, her fingers groping obscenely in the warm folds of her seeping vagina. Of its own will her finger, the middle one, sought the hard tip of her clitoris and teased and tormented the little nerve ending into a vibrant imitation of an erection.

"MMmmmm... Ooooohh!" she sighed in bliss as the tips of her fingers grazed her hotly moistened vaginal inner lips and then dipped hesitantly down to the tight opening to her femininity. With agonizing caution, the frustrated wife guided her trembling digit toward the sensitive little orifice and then with bated breath felt it sink into the silken sheath of her own desire-filled vagina. A jolt of pure unadulterated pleasure shot through her belly, and rays of pleasure emanated from that tender friction between her finger and the warm membrane of her wetly clasping pussy. Eagerly, the blonde wife explored deeper inside her own womanhood, reveling now in the self-given delight. She could feel her own fleshy vaginal walls as they closed in avidly around her penetrating finger, and suddenly it was clear that one finger was not enough!

It was a desperate need, and Helen could not resist plunging one and then two more fingers into the moistly heated opening. Testing the pleasurable results, the good-looking blonde began to swirl and revolve all three fingers within the hungering depths of her wetly clasping cunt.

Helen's other hand began to massage the upthrust mounds of her breasts as bit by bit, her crazed lust took more and more control. It must happen again! Her body must become used to, accustomed to the full passionate ministrations of a warm and loving male! She just couldn't go on like this! Her wine-dazed brain desperately sought the answer to her dilemma even while her fingers brought a semblance of the satiation that she needed.

In the darkness, Helen could make out the dim furnishings of the living room, the bookshelves, the paintings, the overhead chandelier, the tasteful sculptures upon the cabinet. When her eyes had remained fixed on one particular sculpture for a few seconds, Helen knew that it was when she had been looking for. Somewhere in her subconscious, the memory of that lewd abstract piece of art had remained. Long and cylindrical, its smooth shape was reminiscent of nothing so much as a male phallus, and a male penis was exactly what Helen Randolph wanted and had to have. It did not matter at the moment that it was far from real, for even as the drunk and distraught wife staggered up from the couch, she knew that it would feel better than her pitifully inadequate fingers in the tormented fire-pit of her shamelessly pulsing cunt.

"AH!" Helen grabbed at the object and felt an immediate surge of joy as the thickness of it made itself felt in her palm. She knew right away just how it would feel rising high inside her tormented vagina! Rushing back to the couch with the sculpture in her hand, base and all, Helen recalled with a certain amount of maniacal glee that her husband had given the sculpture to her one Christmas many years ago. Little had he dreamed then, that she would make such a good use of his gift! Already the absolutely smooth glistening wood called "Tribute to Space" was touching the quivering surfaces of her outer cunt! Helen manipulated the work of art skillfully, almost as though she had done it before, even though Helen could not remember masturbating since she was a girl of thirteen or fourteen. But it was easy now to hold the thing by the base, and as she lay with her eagerly trembling thighs spread out wide to place the rounded tip of it at the wetly tingling opening of her pussy. Now all she had to do was push!

A vague nagging doubt lingered in the young wife's brain. What am I doing? Have I gone mad?

The lascivious image that she must present, lying there naked in the living room while her husband slept peacefully in the nearby bedroom made Helen falter for an instant. Then just as suddenly as it had come, the image went, to be replaced by that of her husband, Adam, snoring by now no doubt in the bedroom. Blind fury took control of the inebriated blonde wife, and taking hold of the base of the wooden penis, she thrust it inward, forcing the tip-end of it between the gaping split of her sensitive vaginal lips. It rose upward, thick and full and hard within the tightly clasping channel of her cunt while Helen began a muttered chant, her voice tense and feverish: "His fault! His fault! It's all because of him! He's made me do this!" Helen sobbed and grunted alternately as the penis-substitute filled her sensuously pulsating pussy and as she relentlessly forced the long, hard shape past her wetly quivering vaginal lips up into her belly.

"Oh, God!" she sighed finally in relief. It was embedded right up to the mouth of her womb. Automatically, her loins began an involuntary gyration against the lewd object which was a copy of an original work to be found in the Modem Museum of the city. Warily at first, but with a growing assurance of what she was doing, Helen began to slide the big phallus-shaped object of finely polished wood in and out of her gratefully accepting channel.

"Oh, it's good!" The frustrated scientist's wife could hardly believe how well the thick girth and the satisfying length and firmness fulfilled her great need. New and more reassuring waves of a once familiar pleasure washed over her.

Within moments, Helen had begun to twist and turn, her legs moved crazily about on the sofa, one frequently hanging off toward the thickly rugged floor, the other sometimes climbing up to the back of the cushion. Wide, wide, wider! The naked wife gyrated lewdly, obscenely beneath her own self-fucking, as if she were seeking to win some kind of prize for lasciviousness. Helen's loins ground up eagerly now, her mouth working grotesquely in an incessant stream of passionate mewls.

Then with appalling suddenness, she was on the verge of her longed-for release. It was too soon, and yet not soon enough. How long had she waited and wanted this moment? In her fury, the professor's wife jammed the elegant sculpture, the thick wooden pole of her lust, harder and faster into her churning cuntal depths.

Helen's face flushed with a pink moistness, her expression twisted so that she had a look of utter insanity as she strove to fulfill both the roles she had given herself. She was both giving and receiving the hard, thrusting fucking. And then a low, almost mournful wail slipped from her throat as the first shudders of her long awaited pleasure began to convulse her. The golden strands of her hair spread in an iridescent tangle about her head as the excited wife began to spin in the wild vortex of her orgasm. Colors and feelings molded into one behind her tightly closed eyelids. The wet, sluicing sounds of her shameless masturbation met her ears and increased her excitement at this moment of intense climax. In and out, in and out, the substitute penis worked upon the sensitive tissues, bringing her a joy she's almost forgotten existed. What Helen wanted, she gave herself with the help of the lewdly shaped piece of sculpture. Moan after moan escaped the harried woman's lips as the pseudo-cock fucked upward between her widespread thighs until finally a whirlpool of desire grabbed her and spun her about until she had lost all sense of time and place until she had forgotten just who she was and why she was nakedly sprawled upon the living-room sofa.

"I'm there! I'm there!" she called into the darkness as the acute sensations reached their impossible heights. Body trembling and glistening with perspiration, Helen hovered at the peak of her pleasure and then fell back, plunged into the dark unconsciousness of oblivion.

It was hours later when the exhausted wife awoke to find herself trembling with cold, still lying on the sofa. The gray light of dawn was filtering in through the sheer curtains of the living room.

Mortification and guilt struck her and clung like a heavy fog as she looked at the obscene object that lay beside the couch. With a gasp of horror, Helen jumped up and tried to clean off the statue. She did the best she could at the moment and then hid the thing in a far corner of the cupboard. Trembling with shame and cold, Helen ran into the bathroom adjoining the bedroom she shared with her husband. She stood under the hot shower for as long as she could, and then total fatigue, both physical and mental, made her stagger out, dry herself and cover up with a thick terry-cloth robe. The bedroom had a depressing look about it as, still clad in her robe, Helen got in beside the lump that was her sleeping husband. She refrained from touching him as she fell into a restless sleep.

CHAPTER THREE

"Hello, Stan! This is Helen Randolph... I... What? Oh Goddamned answering service! Tell Stan I need an extra appointment this week. Yes, tell him I'm coming today whether he likes it or not!" Helen slammed down the telephone and went to her mirror again. Her nervous fingers moved through her hair as she tried to cope with the facts of the night before. "This is it!" she said to herself. "I can't take any more. Something has to give!"

***

"Yes, this will do fine!" Adam Randolph was extremely pleased. The apartment was very close to the campus of the university. In fact, it was one of several off-campus buildings owned by the university. This proximity would make it simple for him to continue his teaching while he began the new work that would make him famous.

"Sexual Research Foundation." The words sounded just right in the interior of Adam's head as he signed the papers stating that he would rent the apartment for the next two years. Yes, in only one year's time, Adam knew that he would have moved on to bigger and better spaces, but meanwhile, this would do just fine.

"I'll be using the place for my research," Adam told the superintendent who was in charge of rentals.

"Certainly," the super said, feeling proud that he was renting to one of the profs at the university. Much better than the usual rowdy students up there smoking dope and carrying on. It would lift the reputation of the place a bit, he thought to himself as he accepted the one month's rent for deposit, and two month's rent in advance from Dr. Adam Randolph. He looked at the signature on the check and then pocketed it with a little smile of satisfaction.

"Just let me know when you'll be moving in," he said.

"Why, immediately! If not sooner!" Adam replied, massaging his hands as he thought of the young waitress up at the College Cafe. What a fine subject she was going to make!

***

It was three days later, and Susi stood pouting at the angle of the counter, her mind a million miles away. God, if she could only get out of there. Did she dare to say she wasn't feeling well. She could tell Mort, the boss, that she had a headache. But she'd already done that last week. She would have to wait at least another week before she could try again. Already Mort seemed displeased with her. Well, what did he expect? Did have to act as if the damned College Cafe was her whole life? Even though she spent so many hours working there, Susi wasn't about to think about it as having anything to do with her real self!

"Creep!" she said, mentally noting that Mort was looking out from the office door in the back, seeing that there were already two customers waiting at her station while she stood ignoring them. "What a colossal bore!" she thought, casting a glance in the glass roll box which allowed her to see a reflection of her pretty baby doll features highlighted by the bright lights in the cafe. Her wide blue eyes looked as if she had never had a wicked thought in her life. In fact she had had a few, but so far most of her wicked actions had been confined to generally making her admiring boyfriends' lives miserable.

With a walk that told a great deal about how cute Susi thought she was, the eighteen year old waitress ambled over to the first customer, the one nearest her. The other seemed to be gesticulating, indicating that he had arrived first, but Susi kept her eyes carefully away from his. She'd wait on the closest first, and that was that! Let Mort, the manager, crap in the back room if he saw. Let him fire her! Tonight she couldn't care less. Susi held her pad poised, the little pencil was already circling doodles on the sheet of paper. "Yes?" she inquired.

"Good evening, Susi," Professor Adam Randolph smiled and cleared his throat. "This evening I'll have a cup of the Minestrone soup. Is it good? Do you recommend it?"

"Sure! The chef made it up fresh this afternoon!" Susi said. She liked Professor Randolph. He came in almost every evening, making his little jokes. It was better than the dull simps and the weirdoes and the wise-acre students who thought that they were something because they were at the university and she wasn't.

Susi turned and gave one of her little wiggles, knowing that Professor Randolph would appreciate the splendid curvature of her un-pantied ass-cheeks. The nylon slip that she wore under the white nylon uniform allowed the clear outline of them to show, including the split of her curvy buttocks. Then she went to the soup shelf, took down a can of Minestrone and opened it, then put it in the special soup heater. She turned and winked at Professor Randolph as it got hot. He was really cute, she decided, with his gray hair and his brief-case. She'd heard some of the kids talking about him too and had learned that he was a hard, but a good teacher. They always sounded a little bit in awe of him, whereas she was on really friendly terms with him. It made her feel good. She turned back to the machine and poured the hot soup into a bowl, her other hand already reaching for the little pack of Saltine crackers that would be served with it.

Susi wondered if her boyfriend Ben was really going to meet her that night like he'd said. He'd want to make love to her later on, that was for sure, and Susi wasn't sure she wanted him to. Make him wait a little? Instead, maybe when she got home she'd call up somebody who wasn't expecting to hear from her, and go over and fuck all night long. That might be more fun, she decided, for Susi wasn't a girl to do things in any ordered way. The more she confused her lovers and drove them out of their minds, the happier she seemed to be.

Don't let them count on anything! That was one of her little mottoes, and stuck to it pretty well, never becoming terribly emotionally involved with anyone while at the same time stringing as many people along as she could.

"Here you are, Professor Randolph," she said, moving as slowly as she could back to the counter to prevent from spilling the soup. Susi was not the most agile waitress in the world, but she didn't lose any sleep worrying about it. She was noticing, however, that Adam Randolph's eyes were fixed upon her proudly jiggling breasts as she set the soup in front of him. This pleased her immensely that a man of such scientific background could find her attractive. She stood posing in front of him a moment to let him get a good look at her size 38C, ignoring the continued gesticulations of the other customer who was still waiting.

Susi finally turned to the other man. "What do you want?" she said nastily. Routinely, she took his order, aware that Professor Randolph was following her every motion with his eyes. This was more attention than he usually paid to her, and Susi couldn't help wondering if he was going to make a pass at her that night. She waited on two more people while Adam finished his soup at a leisurely pace. What would it be like sleeping with Dr. Randolph, she wondered. It might be interesting, she thought. He would probably tremble when he touched her, she thought, a little smile of amusement playing about her full, Bardot-type lips. Susi's strawberry-colored hair gave off a sheen that no real hair color could ever imitate, but it gave her a certain effect none-the-less. It had been a dull uninteresting chestnut color before, and then blonde, and now this "stylish" red. Susi went over to a far corner of the cafe and surreptitiously ran her comb through her shoulder length hair before tying it back once more. She didn't care if any of the customers saw, but Mort would give her hell if he saw her.

Her other customers had gone now, and only Professor Randolph remained. If he was going to make a pass it would be now, she figured as she walked back toward her counter. The last "older" man she'd slept with, Susi recalled, was her high school principal, and she knew that if she hadn't she never would have graduated. What a lousy lay he'd been too, she thought ruefully. Lots of panting and tugging and then wham team, thank you, ma'am. Then he'd asked her to watch while he masturbated. What a bore!

Susi found herself hoping that Professor Randolph might be more interesting. For one time, what did she have to lose?

"A little experiment?" she repeated, after Adam had broached the subject to her. "Nearby, you say?"

"Yes, my new lab is just around the corner, as a matter of fact. I would be honored if you might consider being one of my first, uh, assistants!"

"Yeah, sure!" Susi thought. "Why not?" she said aloud. "I get off at 11:00. Give me the address and I'll come on over." She arched an eyebrow and waggled her hips a bit.

Adam smiled and left a quarter tip, his usual, before sliding off the stool. Then he carried the check to the cashier, paid and stepped out into the crisp night air. He hurried back to the new "lab", for he had to have all in readiness for the young waitress's arrival.

Taking the steps two at a time, the graying scientist arrived at the third floor landing. He fit his key into the first lock, turned it, and fit a second key into the police lock. The iron bar slid aside as he entered the apartment. The hall was as grim and colorless as he had found it, but the living room had been turned into a rather comfortable looking room. There was little furniture except for a foam rubber mattress on the floor with an Indian throw over it and a few cushions spread about on the carpet. The walls however had been tampered with, and if one looked carefully one could see that the rug area around the bed had been carefully cut and recovered to allow for the placement of certain devices.

Adam hurried to the control panel that was in the adjoining room and turned on the electronically motivated instrument. It was a comparatively simple machine to construct, borrowing university equipment of course, and Adam himself had considerable experience with stimulatory devices where his test animals were concerned. To make certain changes allowing for a human experiment was a snap for the talented professor.

The two way mirror was archaic, but would work admirably for his own first experiments, Adam felt, as he peered into the empty living room, his "lab". Already the bed was beginning to vibrate, and Adam had but to touch a few other buttons and he knew that the whole thing would come alive. But this would wait. Right now, he had to hurry and change into his white coat. Carefully, the middle-aged professor removed all his clothing, and placed it in a closet. From the same closet he removed his working coat, and put it on over his naked body. A shiver went through him as he felt its cool crisp cotton fabric covering the warmth of his exposed flesh. Why, he wondered, had he waited so long before breaking away from the dull routine of the university? Why had he waited so long before beginning to live?

The excitement was making him get a full erection already, and hard, meaty head of his erect cock grazed against the material of his loose-fitting white coat arousing him even further. Adam rubbed his hands together and refrained from touching the blood-swollen girth of his penis. It was enough at the moment to anticipate Susi's arrival. Adam Randolph began to pace back and forth, reminding himself that a good scientist would never anticipate the results of an experiment. He would just have to wait and see what happened, given the laboratory conditions and the predispositions of the subject!

The bell rang with a strident sound that made him jump. Then Adam was coolness personified. The tougher it gets, he reminded himself, the cooler I must be! For already Adam had started thinking about his wife, Helen. He broke out into a sweat as he made ready to open the door. Why on earth would he be thinking about her now? But try as he might, even as Adam Randolph opened the door to see the pert eighteen year old standing there, he was remembering his wife's words as he left the apartment earlier that day. "You can't ignore me! I'll show you! You can't keep on pretending that I don't exist!"

Adam had closed the door behind him and gotten the elevator down to the garage. "Now why would she think that I don't think she exists?" he wondered to himself. Obviously, he knew she existed. Sometimes he got theater tickets and they would go out together. Sometimes, he even looked at television with her. True he wasn't much of a conversationalist, but then he always had so much on his mind.

Adam's thoughts trailed off, and he realized that he had been standing there for a good moment, staring at the first subject of his new "work".

"Well, are you going to ask me in?" Susi smiled a crooked little inquiring smile at the older man. Really, she was thinking. Is he potty or something? You'd think he didn't even remember inviting me by!

"Come in... oh yes, do come right in!" Adam said formally, ushering the curvaceous little teenager into the apartment, and carefully locking the door behind her.

"Expecting burglars?" Susi asked. She was chewing gum and wondering if she should have gone out with her boyfriend after all instead of standing him up.

"Not at all, not at all!" Adam was rubbing his hands again. "I, uh, well, in the big city, one can never be too careful, you know!"

"Oh, I don't believe all that stuff. Nothing ever happened to me!" Susi looked around her with a certain amount of distaste. "This is where you do your experiments?" she asked.

"As a matter of fact, yes," Adam replied. "Step right this way, won't you?"

"Oh boy!" Susi rolled her eyes as Adam turned his back to her and led the way to the living room. She looked inside. "Is this going to be boring!" she said to herself, not quite knowing what she had expected, but knowing that it was something more interesting than this!

Adam stood awkwardly beside the girl for a moment. She seemed smaller, shorter now that she was no longer behind that counter. And seeing her dress

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