Chapter Twenty-Two

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After their initial frenzy, David lay on the bed with Maria sprawled on top of him, connected and gently moving. He told her about his meetings with Horst and how they had led to his being freed from the remainder of the course. Then he conveyed from memory the data from his observations in the shower room.

"I'm pleased you can now look objectively at this." She chuckled. "At those."

"So liberating. No longer hiding. Nor denying myself a look at others. So, do these fit with what you've read?"

"They do. Most are from seven to nine centimetres, which according to my hypothesis would erect to between eleven and thirteen and a half."

"Your hypothesis? How have you come up with that?"

"By doing an analysis." She giggled. "I don't have any other source, so I used your measurements."

"So, how have you arrived at a hypothesis from these?"

"By attempting to correlate flaccid and tumescent lengths."

"What are those?"

"Dangling and erect. They're the medical terms to describe the state of a penis." She shifted her hips and moaned. "I prefer tumescent."

He chuckled and gave a slow thrust. "And what is your hypothesis?"

"We've seen yours is nine centimetres from its root to where it emerges from your pubes, which added to the fifteen point five of your dangle, gives twenty-four point five. Your effective erection, the portion beyond your pubes, is twenty-one point seven, so added to the nine buried, a total of thirty point seven, which is just over a twenty-five percent increase."

Maria shifted her hips and hummed a quiet moan. "So, applying my formula, buried plus flaccid lengths, add twenty-five percent and subtract the buried, takes seven to nine up to eleven to thirteen point five. Now, consider the five centimetre ones you saw. Flaccid, they would be fourteen from root to tip, and with a twenty-five percent increase, they would have a tumescent length of seventeen point five, with eight point five centimetres of that available for penetration."

David nodded. "So, like the thumb-sized erection your mother talked about in the mountains." 

"I thought about that as I fiddled with data I had found in the library. The inconsistent correlations between flaccid and tumescent lengths caused me to think the buried length must be factored into the equation." 

"So, even the one barely peeking out..." David paused to do a mental calculation. "His one centimetre would be three point five erect. Still enough to excite and impregnate."

"It would be. As we've seen, greater penetration does little to increase my pleasure. My major excitation is not inside, but on my clitoris, my button. Your girth allows me all the contact I need with a small tilt of my hips." She shifted and moaned a deep sigh. "Like that."

"So, thickness is the important factor, isn't it? With a normal penis, or a smaller one, would concentrating on pubic contact or on fingers work?"

"Oh, for sure. One journal article reports the experiences of unfulfilled women whose men pay little or no attention to anything but penetration. They were counselled to manually manipulate, and for most, it worked."

"So, back to your hypothesis. Where will you find reliable measurements to prove it? Surely there are few so specific."

"I could find none, so we'll have to gather the data. Dr Betancourt loved my hypothesis, and he proposed the project to the Board. They approved it yesterday, so measuring as large a sampling as possible will be among our research activities through the summer. I'm so excited." She churned her hips. "Let me concentrate on another."

"I'll accompany you. We soon need to clean and dress for dinner."

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At nineteen twenty-five, David and Maria descended the stairs and crossed the foyer to the anteroom where they were greeted by John Wallinger. "You look more beautiful each time I see you, Maria." He took her offered hand to his lips, then he shook David's.

"Have you thought that it might be because you're still unattached?" Maria giggled. "And increasingly desperate?"

John shrugged. "That may be, but it doesn't negate your..."

He paused when the Grant Duffs entered the room and Evelyn greeted, "I'm pleased you could join us, John." Then Evelyn turned to David and Henry. "Let's keep our dinner conversation on matters other than espionage. We'll discuss that with brandy and cigars afterwards."

The six maintained a lively conversation through dinner, Edith updating David on the evolution of the Bern Bread Bureau. "We're now baking and sending to Germany over six thousand loaves each day, supplying thirty thousand prisoners."

"And are we still assured they reach British prisoners?" David asked.

"Yes, we are. The Red Cross supervises the distribution. Each package contains two loaves of bread, plus tinned meat, condensed milk, chocolate and other edibles, Also tobacco, soap, towels and small clothing. The Germans welcome the deliveries, relieving them from a portion of the burden of feeding the prisoners."

"And we'll soon be relieving them of the burden of caring for wounded and sick ones," Henry added. "The first group of tuberculous are due to arrive here in a few weeks."

John pursed his lips and nodded. "They are rather contagious, aren't they? Where will they be accommodated?"

"In the mountain resorts. Many of the hotels there are idle or nearly so with the loss of tourism, and most are eager to receive the compensation provided by the program. It's not their regular tariff, but it's a better alternative than remaining vacant. Specialised medical and care personnel are being provided and contagion countermeasures arranged."

The conversation continued, and much later, David answered questions about his past several weeks, and he related observations and anecdotes from his training with the Swiss Army. As he talked about the barrack inspection routine, he laughed. "I'm now an expert in indoctrination, having done basic training three times."

After the cheese board had been depleted and the port decanter emptied, Evelyn rose. "If the ladies will excuse us, we have boring matters to discuss." He motioned to the men and to the door.

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