Personal Journal – The Researcher – Entry 3
The camera turns on to show the artificially lit office. The room is identical. The man is sitting on the office chair facing the camera which seems to be sitting on either a shelf or something above the sea of paperwork and discarded junk that litters the surface of the desk.
He runs a hand through his hair as he pulls his glasses out from under an old magazine. He unfolds the arms and slides them onto his face and up his nose. He is frowning.
"What is wrong with me?" he asks no one in particular, "I'm proving all the doubters right. They said that this dissertation was a folly, an excuse for gratuitous sex, and that the proposition, methodology and reasoning was flawed."
He inhales a deep breath as he closes his eyes and clenches his fists.
"They can't see what I'm trying to do," he sneered, "The misunderstood my objectives and the entire reasoning behind me studying the psychology behind sexual behavior. I've always been fascinated by human mating practices. It's not because of the rejections I've endured."
"It's true that my own sexual history isn't far from a horror story," he huffs, "But that's not my fault. Women these days expect too much from men. They see men as a fashion accessory, with the perfect six-pack-abs, pecks and biceps. Normal men don't cut it anymore. And if, by some miracle, you make it past the visual test, then you have to morph yourself into a female pleasure instrument. Women these days have seen the movies, books, and they firmly believe that men exist purely to satisfy them multiple times. They expect us to be sex machines and be able to hold back everything while they reach several consecutive mind-blowing orgasms."
"It's a burden," he winces as he whispers, "And there's no apology you can give, should you fail to meet her needs. There's no forgiveness should you cum before she does."
"It's true my failures did inspire this research," he looks away, "But isn't that the case with most legitimate research? I identified a problem, and I'm investigating whether it's a valid observation, that's all. There's nothing sinister or selfish about what I'm doing. It's scientific."
"Once I'm finished my thesis," he looks back at the camera, "Then they'll have to accept it and grant me my doctorate. They'll see then that the rationale was genuine, and that the underlying assumption was accurate. They will have to approve it."
"But first," he rubbed his face, "I need to get my head back on track. I'm deviating from my plan too much. She's influencing my reactions and I'm failing to be objective."
"I knew that she was ideal for this study but I wasn't prepared for how much I'd want her," his fingers dug into his forehead and rotated the skin there, "I lost control on day one and almost threw everything away. And today, I couldn't resist her again. I followed the outline of the plan but failed to implement the spirit of it. Yesterday I fell on her, like a beast, today I was supposed to have sex with her like a yester-year man. With her virginity gone, I wanted to expose her to sex as per the nineteen-fifties where the woman was aroused but existed to give pleasure not expected to receive it."
"Without knowing any difference," he lifted his eye to the camera, "I wanted to gauge her reaction to satisfying my needs first, despite what I promised her. I wanted to see if someone who was unfamiliar and who'd never experienced one before could be disappointed by not achieving orgasm."
"This doesn't mean that I wanted to force myself on to her," he said firmly, "I wanted her willing and ready for me, but I wanted her to enjoy the act without reaching her own completion. And I intended to use a condom."
"The condom demonstrates to her that this isn't a permanent relationship," he looks away as he rubs his forehead again, this time with the heel of his hand, "That it's a transitory sexual intercourse and that I intend to have intimacy with her purely for pleasure without any consequences."
"I failed on both agendas," he drops his head, "I didn't stop to put on a condom, and I couldn't resist taking her to orgasm."
"As I've said before, she's the first woman I've ever had unprotected sex with," he fidgets his hands, "And my first virgin. I don't know whether my need to cum inside her is due to the excitement of being her first, of marking my territory, or just the pure exhilaration of having my cock wrapped in her flesh. Whatever the reason, I don't want to deny myself the pleasure of fucking her without a barrier. It's pure heaven to feel the skin of my cock thrusting against the velvet of her vagina, and when I cum it's like I've reached the pinnacle of man's worth. Knowing she's flooded with my sperm, my seed, makes orgasming feel like a drug."
"I thought I could control it," he shakes his head, "I thought this feeling would go away after the first time, that it was tied to taking her virginity. But today I couldn't force myself to stop either. I didn't hesitate to take her skin-to-skin even though I knew how important wearing the condom was to the research. And when she started to react to my sex, I forgot everything. I wanted her to unravel as a result of my cock. I pushed on with that goal in mind and when she came, I felt a feeling of jubilation that I'd never experienced before. I did that. I caused that. I made her like that."
"This was another first, truth be told," he winces, "I thought I'd done it before, made a woman orgasm, but when she did it today, I realized that my previous partners weren't genuine. When she clamped herself around me, cried out involuntarily, convulsed her pleasure, and coated my cock with her cream, I knew she wasn't faking. It was like being hit by lightning. It opened my eyes to a new world and the knowledge that I needed to do that again, that my life wasn't complete without a sated woman in my bed."
"And now I'm fucked," he exhales, "I barely dragged myself out from between her legs this afternoon. I wanted to sink myself into her repeatedly, but not for research, purely for my own satisfaction. Only the shock of realizing that stopped me from continuing. I needed to refocus. I have to collect my thoughts. But now, after leaving her, all I want to do is go back to her and fuck her until my balls ache."
"This is just sex," his eyes flick up to the camera, "Pure sex. I can't afford to think anything else. I simply must get over feeling this way and concentrate on what I'm here to achieve."
"And I'm going to spend the rest of the evening in mediation," he glances at the door, "Until I convince myself that being impartial is the only option for me."
He stands to turn off the camera but freezes with his arm extended to the device. His head turns towards the door where the knocking noise came from. He is frowning.
"Yes," he asks tentatively, "What's wrong Subject-3?"
"Can I come in?" she asks from behind the closed door.
He gets up, forgetting the camera, and opens the door inwards making the room seem even smaller.
"Master," she's standing there in a loosely fitting white satin wrapped gown, "I'm sorry to interrupt but I was wondering if I could ask you some questions about today?"
"Where you listening? Did you hear what I said?" he steps back from her as he shoots his questions at her standing in the doorway, "Were you listening to my Journal recording?"
"No, not at all," her eyes widen as she shakes her head, "I wouldn't do that."
"Oh," he doesn't move from his position, almost as if he's waiting to catch her lie, "And you didn't hear what I said?"
"No, I didn't," she blinks her wide eyes as if to emphasize her innocence, "Is this a bad time, then? I didn't realize you were doing your journal. I'll come back later."
"I've just finished," he blurts out too quickly, "What did you want to ask me?"
"Do you mind if I come in?" she asks as she looks around the room before she ventures forward to perch on the edge of the desk squashing some paperwork beneath her, "I want to know if it was okay for you too. I didn't ask before when you asked me. I should have asked to make sure you enjoyed it too."
"I ejaculated Subject-3," he eyes travel down the satin wrap she's wearing as he pushes the office chair back and sits on it, "That's usually all the proof you need that a man's satisfied."
"Really?" she frowns, "So, does that mean that all sex is the same for you? As long as you come, you're happy?"
"No," he laughs as his eyes linger on the split of the gown which shows off her naked thighs, "That's not true. Ejaculation is the climax of a man's pleasure, but the journey towards that peak and the height achieved, varies depending on the partner."
"Was your journey good?" she asks with her head dropped and her eyes lifted toward him, "Did it make you feel good?"
"Yes," he shifts on the chair, "It felt very good."
"But you didn't want to do it again?" she frowns as she looks down at the groin are in the soft pants he's wearing, "Even though you were getting hard again?"
"As I said before," he looks away, "It wasn't that I didn't want to, it was because I shouldn't."
"Oh," she smiles as she looks at the bulge forming in his lap, "Then does that means you want to now?"
"Subject-3," he exhales, "I'm a man. We always want to have sex. And having my most recent lover partly dressed in front of me is all that I need to get hard. But this isn't the right time or place for the next recording."
"And what if I don't want to wait," she drops herself to the floor and leans over so that she's leaning into him, "What if I need you right now?"
"Subject-3," his Adams apple bounces as he tries to swallow.
His eye glance down along the loose fabric of her gown, her breasts are hanging loose and suspended in the open neckline of the wrap. She undoes the tied belt as he watches and lets the silky fabric slide off her body. While still leaning over him, she reaches a hand down and edges her fingers into the taut fabric tent. He groans and shuffles his hips outwards, towards the lip of the chair, as his legs part. Her hand reaches low and deep between his legs and the holds it there while she massages the item that she has found.
He lifts his hips, both giving her increased access and allowing his hands to pass the elastic band over his erection, down his thighs and the freedom to drop to the floor. Both now naked, he is slumped on the chair as she stands between his legs with his scrotum cupped in one hand. He closes his eyes as she teases the balls while lowering her lips to his erect penis.
"Should I stop?" she whispers as she licks the head of his penis, "Am I breaking the rules? Am I being naughty?"
"Yes," his voice his rough with desire, "But don't stop. Suck it harder."
She ducks her head down as she takes him into her mouth then bobs up and down as he moans his appreciation. His hands are in her hair, clasped behind her crown, encouraging her movement. He pushes her mouth to take more of his length as he lifts his hips from the seat. She jerks her head up, his penis popping from her open mouth as she takes a deep breath and coughs at the same time.
"Not yet, Master," she smirks, "Your journey isn't over yet. I want to see how high you can get before you climax."
"Subject-3," he watches as she rearranges him, pushing his legs closed and placing his scrotum neatly on his lap, "We shouldn't be doing this."
His voice trails off before finishing his sentence, because with him positioned she lifts herself up and over him and then slowly lowers herself onto him. His erection disappears within her as she lowers herself to sit on his lap. Her legs either side of him, she finally allows the split of her bottom to rest on his sac and push the balls outwards and to the extreme edge of their restrictive sack.
They both moan in synchronized pleasure before they open their eyes and look at each other. She stays impaled but perfectly still while they both search each other's face. He breaks the impasse first as his face lifts and his mouth seeks hers. He kisses her lips with a slow kiss as she starts to grind her hips against him with circular motion. With his arms wrapped around her, one at her waist, the other across her shoulders, he pushes his tongue into her mouth as he deepens the kiss. She rocks her hips back and forward on his lap as she kisses him back with as much desperation. He pulls her body and her breasts against his chest as he ravishes her lips.
Alternating between rocking and rotating, she maintains the friction between their joined bodies without pause. His hand leaves her back, snakes to her abdomen, then wedges itself between them, pushing it's fingers towards the place where they are connected. She gasps and one finger drives itself into her dampness and finds the junction between their two bodies. His fingertips graze on his own penetrating member and then they fan out over the flesh that precedes it and cup her as she gyrates. The added layer, corrugated fingers, rough skin and increased pressure seem to undo her rhythm. She bucks, thrusting her hips as she pulls her lips free from his and throws her body backward. Had he not had one arm around her she might have fallen from her position straddling him, but his arm around her shoulders fixes her in place.
"Master, please," she pleads as she closes her eyes and drops her center down hard on him.
With one upward shunt he undoes her. She screams out his name once more as she plunges her hips against his upward piercing erection. Then she collapses against his chest. She breathes soft mewing noises as she holds onto him, his erection still buried within her.
"Subject-3," he says as he withdraws his hand, glistening with her arousal, "You're in trouble now. You've broken the rules and I'm going to have to discipline you for that."
"Master?" she lifts her lazy eyes to him, "And how are you going to do that?"
"I'm going to fuck you," he growls, "All night, if necessary."
"Really?" she smiles her approval.
"And tomorrow," he lifted an dropped his hips, "We'll both be over this consuming need to fuck, and I'll be able to concentrate on what I'm here to do."
He jolts her upwards, an inch of his penis appearing then vanishing. He bounces her on his lap, his arms holding her straight as she rides him. His free hand skims up and catches one of her flopping breasts and he holds it firm. She gasps as his mouth finds the nipple. She is caught between the hard length that is vaulting her up and down and the anchor that is towing on her nipple. The two sensations so different but so complimentary force her towards another edge. She leans backwards, trying to find the perfect angle. His arms tight around her, holding her fixed so that he doesn't lose either points he's connected to her. She wiggles as he launches himself upwards and his teeth pinch catching her with a hard suck. Unable to escape she screams out a long high note as he whole body tenses and convulses for a full minute.
"Fuck," he growls, her breast flopping free and as she finally releases the muscles that have his erection trapped at the point where it gives her greatest please, "I'm going to cum."
"No, not yet," she whispers as she pushes her body off of his.
With confusion still all over his face, she slips off his lap and his penis pops free. It is coated in a wet slimey substance which makes it seem glazed. She struggles to stand, her legs wobbly. His eyes lift from his lap. His incomprehension as to why his erection has been evicted, vanishes and his eyes harden.
He stands and with one arm he sweeps the contents of the desk to one side and onto the floor. The camera stays mounted but everything else is wiped off and lands with a series of thumps and smashes. The fate of the coffee cups doesn't seem to faze him as he catches her in his grip and bends her over the desk. Her forearms are resting on the newly vacated surface and her ass is in his grip. With one hand either side, he lifts her hips higher as he stands directly behind her.
In one swift movement he rejoins their bodies. Her face, close to the camera, becomes distorted with surprise as he slams his erection into her and his abdomen against her ass cheeks. He doesn't give her time to recover her shock, with strong thrusts he pounds himself into her creating a slapping sound as he embeds his whole length within her.
She tries to right herself, to push off the desk and stand, but he rests a hand between her shoulder blades and that's all he needs to do to keep her in place. Her hair sweeps across the securing hand and he turns it to catch a lock and tug it. Her head pushes backwards to minimize the pain he's causing her scalp. Then she frees a hand to try to fight the fist that's both imprisoning her hair and forcing her downwards. He grabs her wrist, and then pulls the arm back to his waist.
She cries out, her body arched backwards, twisted, her hair caught and being tugged with each thrust and her other arm supporting her weight and balancing her body off the table. Unable to move and caught between pleasure and pain she is forced to submit to his needs. His bashing thrusts become more desperate as he twists her body to allow his erection the deepest possible access. He slides himself in and out of her, her sex slick with her own moisture, and her tunnel thick from the increased blood flow as a result of the orgasms she's had.
His eyes are closed, his eyes rolled back, and his mouth is skewed, all given the impression of a man close to climaxing. His glasses are gone and are lying on the floor, bent out of place by his foot. Breathing heavily, his body is damp with perspiration as he lunges his hips in time with each beat of his heart.
"I need this," he groans as he hooks himself upwards, lifting her feet off the floor, "I need you to come with me. Subject-3, fuck me as hard as I'm fucking you."
"Master," she whines but her hips bounce against him, "I can't move."
He opens his eyes and lets go of her wrist, hair and his hands return to either side of her hips. She straights herself, dropping her arms back to the surface of the desk which has the result of raising her ass higher. She groans and bounces her buttocks.
"Yes," he hisses as he tightens his grip, while encouraging her swiveling pelvis, "That's it. Now come for me and milk my cock with your orgasm."
She moans and with that sound he slams his entire lower body against her, pulling himself out until his head is at her entrance, then stabbing his erection to the base once more. He does this three times and then she hawks he legs wide and off the ground suspending her lower body on his erection as she bucks and surrenders to the wave of orgasm that breaks over her body.
With his hands dug into the flesh at her hips his thrust become fierce and uncontrolled as he fights to force himself as deep into her center as possible. Then he throws his upper body backward, his hips angling upward and lifting her skyward as he growls his pleasure and explodes his ejaculation into her womb.
"Holy fuck," he hisses as he leaks the last of his load into her.
He lowers her feet to the ground as he slides his spent member from her bringing a globule of semen with it. He stands free of her but still between her legs as he watches the white fluid ooze from her. She has flopped to the desk and is breathing heavily.
"I think we need to move to the bed," he says in a matter-of-fact tone.
"Master?" she twists to look at him.
"I'm not done with you yet," he lifts his eyes from her flooded vagina, "It's going to be a long night Subject-3 and you're not going to get very much sleep at all. Are you okay with that?"
"Yes, Master," she takes the hand he's offering her and allows him to help her stand before he tows her out the open door.