My Secret Life. Various

her in places that had never been touched. She felt thoroughly impaled, and she squirmed until the professor placed a comforting hand on her tense thigh.

      ‘There are straps overhead if you need something to hold on to.’

      Blindly, she reached upwards. Her fingers wrapped around the nylon straps, and the muscles in her arms flexed. With her legs splayed open, there wasn’t anywhere she could move. The hardness pushing into her made her want to move, though. Badly.

      ‘A little more … Yes, there.’ Walton leaned down and read the markings on the instrument sticking out of her opening. He picked up his pencil and carefully noted the measurement in his lab book. ‘Now this will be a little more intense.’

      Tressa’s fingers turned white around the straps. God, she wanted to move. The professor, though, was still cool as a cucumber. ‘All right,’ she said with as much dignity as she could muster.

      He flicked the switch, and the effects were devastating. She could feel the pressure increasing. It was as if a man’s cock was swelling inside her. Closing her eyes, she let herself enjoy the sensation. Almost immediately, Marco’s rugged face appeared.

      She whimpered when her mind latched on to the fantasy and wouldn’t let go.

      ‘You’re doing well.’ The professor’s hand dropped onto her abdomen. With a firm touch, he tried to calm her.

      She was too caught up in the erotic daydream to be soothed. Marco’s cock was deep inside her, and it was growing. Her hips surged off the table to take more of him.

      ‘Oh, my!’ Professor Walton tried to settle her, but she couldn’t stop writhing. Finally, he used his weight to pin her to the table and watched the diameter measurement increase. ‘Don’t fight it. Let yourself open. Yes, that will do fine.’

      ‘Move it,’ she begged. ‘Please, do me with it.’

      ‘Now, now. If you orgasm too soon, the experiment will be a failure.’

      Tressa groaned as he reversed the motion of the tool and pulled it out of her. She felt empty. She needed something inside her. Her pussy was crying for it. ‘Professor, hurry.’

      He seemed thrown by the sudden change in her demeanour. Drumming his fingers against his chin, he finally chose a strange-looking item from the nearby table. ‘I think this new manipulator will suit you. It’s an exciting innovation. The phallic module moves in a lateral fashion, thus simulating the thrusting motion of a man’s hips.’

      She didn’t really care. She just wanted something, anything inside her.

      ‘With this option, an added feature is engaged. This doughnut-shaped structure will traverse the length of the phallus, giving added stimulation to the walls of your vagina.’

      ‘Please, Professor.’ All her carefully cultivated poise had left her. She was a woman dying to be screwed.

      ‘All right.’ The professor frowned as his carefully designed experiment threatened to go awry. ‘We’ll get started.’

      Tressa felt no shyness when he assumed his position between the stirrups. Her hips lifted and her shoulders pressed hard against the table as she waited. The professor didn’t waste any time. He’d measured her carefully, and she was displaying all the signs of a woman ready for penetration. He settled the knob of the device against her.

      She let out a cry when it slid firmly home.

      Walton didn’t need any more prompting. He turned on the automated sex toy and watched her reactions closely as the rod pumped in and out of her. ‘That’s working admirably.’

      God, was it! Waves of pleasure coursed through her body. When the shaft lodged deep inside her, she ground her hips into the mattress. In her fantasy, it was Marco fucking her, making her do things they shouldn’t.

      She jerked, though, when the professor turned on the other feature and that delectable little doughnut began creeping up inside her. The sensation was alarming, and it threw her out of her erotic daydream. She wasn’t with Marco. She was on a table in a research lab with her pussy being stretched and invaded.

      ‘Is that stimulus enjoyable?’

      She wasn’t sure. It felt foreign and unnatural. Sordid. ‘Yes,’ she groaned.

      Her body began thrashing about on the table, and the professor jotted down observations in his notebook as fast as he could write.

      ‘Ahh. I can’t …’ Tressa’s breath rasped in and out of her lungs. ‘Help me.’

      The professor frowned. ‘You can’t climax?’ The question prompted his curiosity, and he bent closer to watch the toy fuck her. ‘Oh, I see. You have no stimulus on your clitoris.’

      His thumb settled against her clit, and her hips surged. Her hands clamped down on the straps, and the stirrups bit into her feet. Electricity swept through her body, and she cried out as she crested. The orgasm held her for a long time. Her body strained to enjoy every last second of it before collapsing onto the table.

      Eyes closed, she sank into sated oblivion. Her body lay motionless as the professor removed the toy from her tired pussy.

      ‘That was a most successful case study. I will certainly enjoy analysing the results.’

      Tressa flinched when she felt a cool rag settle between her legs, but she was too exhausted to shy away. The professor cleaned the stickiness from her mound and thighs before helping her sit up. ‘So what is your conclusion, Ms Lang?’

      Her conclusion? God, she couldn’t think, much less conclude. Her mind was still reeling.

      ‘About the funding.’

      Oh, that. The real world came back in bits and pieces until she realised she was a vice president at Catharsis Pharmaceuticals – and she was sitting stark naked in front of a man she didn’t even know. She swallowed hard. ‘Your funding is secure.’

      He was right. Women’s sexuality was just as important as men’s, and she’d been ignoring her own for too long.

      Walton handed her her clothes and she dressed, but he was already entering data into his computer when she slipped on her shoes.

      Tressa licked her lips nervously. ‘Should I let myself out?’

      The professor glanced up and adjusted his glasses on his nose. ‘Can I expect you back next week?’

      She stopped in her tracks. ‘Oh, I don’t know. In my position …’

      He looked anxiously at his computer. ‘I really need to replicate the results in order for them to have any significance at all.’

      Tressa vacillated. ‘My schedule is very busy.’

      ‘Twice monthly then.’

      She bit her lip. It was tempting to continue. ‘You can assure me confidentiality?’

      ‘None of my test subjects has ever been revealed.’

      She glanced at the stirrups and felt a tremor run through her. Not even she had been able to find details of these studies, and her never-ending stress had been lifted. She felt relaxed, fulfilled, and sexy as hell.

      Marco would never know the better.

      That sealed the deal. ‘Have the confidentiality agreement written up. I’ll be here the second and fourth Wednesdays of the month.’

      Walton smiled. ‘Your data could mean the difference to countless women struggling with frigidity.’

      And it would mean the difference to her in a life that had become too intent on work and so devoid of pleasure. A secret little interlude. Tressa smiled softly. She couldn’t risk her job by having an affair with her driver – not yet – but she could be a test subject for one of the country’s leading sex researchers.

      She just had to make sure Marco drove her every week.