Dr. Chloe Burrell, Sex Researcher

"A mi dios!" he growled, his cock twitching rapidly.

"You taste wonderful," she said, rocking back on her heels to gaze in satisfaction at the shiny orifice in front of her. "My little virgin just experienced another first, didn't he?" she asked, confident in the answer as she stood up and stepped in front of him, wrapping one hand around his erect dick and pulling him behind her, leading him like a puppy to a spot at the side of the sofa.

"I want to take you with your gorgeous ass up high in the air, Miguel," Lela said as she untied the jersey fabric belt around her waist. "I am very wet thinking about this." She pushed him down over the arm of the sofa, tapping lightly on his ass. "High, my love. Keep this lovely naked butt way up high. That way, I can see how nice and hard you are as your cock and balls put on a sexy show for me between your spread legs." She shrugged off her dress. "Ummmm, that's it. Such a lovely sight."

The camera took the cue and panned back to frame the sight Lela had just described. Miguel was a man in great shape, his body toned, his ass firm and taut. He was also nicely endowed, and his erect cock bobbed beneath him until he reached one hand to the base of his dick and levered it backwards so he could lower himself just enough over the arm of the sofa to rest his abdomen on it yet have his cock and snugged-up balls available to Lela's manipulation in front of the sofa arm. The result was that he did keep his ass up high for her, but he was also offering his genitals to her gaze, her hands, her mouth, or any other means she wanted to employ as a way to use his cock and his balls—as well as his asshole—for her personal arousal.

It was a stunning display of naked male lust for a good, hard, deep-grinding strapon fucking.

Chloe had an orgasm.

In the video, Lela reached for a bottle of lube on the coffee table, popped the cap and tipped it toward the top of Miguel's ass crack. "Reach back and spread yourself open for me," Lela said in a husky voice. "Hold yourself wide apart and relax your asshole, lover. I want to watch the lube slide down over the place where I'm going to fuck you."

God! thought Chloe, hugging her knees to her chest as the tremors from her orgasm coursed through her body. I can't stand how sexy this is!

In spite of an orgasm only moments before and the resulting sensitivity of her clit, Chloe inched her hand back to her crotch, gingerly nudging one finger against the shaft of her clitoris. The visuals before her—Lela stepping into the harness as she cooed to Miguel how hot she was as she readied herself to take his upturned and exposed ass, which was sexily displayed as the glistening lube slid downward onto and over his eager pucker—forced Chloe to reach for another climax. Retracted under its hood, her pleasure nub was still firm, though exquisitely sensitive, and Chloe grasped it lightly through the engorged tunnel of the slick skin covering her hard little shaft. The almost unbearable mixture of tortuously intense sexual arousal mixed with desperation for ecstasy was like nothing she had ever put herself through before. With gasps coming in a short, uneven staccato rhythm as she watched Lela's masterful taking of the third, and final, conquest necessary to satisfy the terms of the bet, Chloe drove herself past every over-sensitized physical sensation as she witnessed the consummation before her on the screen.

Lela had squeezed out lube into her palm and was stroking her fake cock as it jutted forward, proud and firm, glistening slick. Miguel had released the grip on his firm glutes that Lela had directed so the lube could roll down the valley between his cheeks and onto his asshole, and now his buttocks were squirming in anticipation. "Please, Lela, you are a most naughty lady teasing your man like this!" He arched his back even more, thrusting his ass upwards in a display of pure lust to be opened and penetrated. "You will do me now, yes?"

It was a question, a plea, a mournful begging all in one sentence.

Chloe was stroking her clit furiously now, the intensity of her arousal overpowering every physical sensation except a nothing-else-exists-in-the-world need to come. She had pushed two fingers of her other hand inside her sopping pussy, sliding the fingertips against the walls of her silky depths, then pausing to press a fingertip against her G-spot.

The camera showed Lela advancing toward her desperate male, his hips gyrating in anticipation as he continued his pleas for the sexy woman to take his anal virginity. "See, mi mujer, I am open for you. See my invitation!"

Lela spread his cheeks wide apart, and Miguel's asshole relaxed, an aperture appearing in the center. The camera caught it in gorgeous, loving detail, every crinkle of his surrender open and available for inspection by both Lela and all who watched the scene in this powerfully erotic film. The viscous lube coating his pink anus did not camouflage or obstruct the evidence that he had, indeed, opened himself to Lela's strapon—the small opening in the center verified his overpowering desire to be penetrated.

Chloe's hungry gaze fixed on Miguel's pink, vulnerable opening as she climbed quickly toward the inevitable.

"You are such a sexy little virgin, Miguel," Lela said, pushing her hips slowly forward as she held him open to the camera's focus. "I am going to slide this strapon dildo deep inside you." She positioned the tip of the purple phallus directly over the opening he had surrendered. The tip made contact with the lube that was slowly sinking into the depths of him. "I can't possibly be slow and gentle with you right now, lover. You've made me too hot and horny for that!"

Lela drove the full length of the shaft in one thrust deep into Miguel's asshole.

Chloe saw Lela push her hips against Miguel's flanks, the dildo buried completely inside him as he yelled in lustful surprise, bucking back against her. Her lovely tits jiggled with the motions created when she grabbed onto his powerful shoulders, riding him to her own approaching orgasm.

Whatever came after that, Chloe missed. She had slipped into some kind of oblivion that allowed no sense of where she was, what was to be seen, or what sounds were to be heard.

The only thing in Chloe's existence at that moment was the most powerful and absolute sexual release she had ever known.

When she was able to refocus her senses from near black-out ecstasy to what was happening on the screen, she had missed what must have been an explosive mutual climax by Lela and Miguel.

"Oh, baby, you did great," Lela panted, stretched out on Miguel's back as he lay still bent over the arm of the sofa, her strapon dildo having slipped from his asshole and hanging down between her legs, brushing up against his ball sac. "You took every inch that I stroked into you, my love."

Miguel was shaking his head, as though clearing stars from his eyes. "You did not tell me, mujer deliciosa, that taking me like that would make me come so hard and so much. You are very, very bad."

Lela eased up from on top of him and stepped back just enough to once more spread his asscheeks open to her gaze. "You are the one who is bad, Miguel." She leaned down to blow gently against his asshole. "You lied to me about being a virgin, didn't you?"

The camera caught Miguel's smile as he levered up from over the arm of the sofa.

Chloe was an absolute basket case, a puddle of spent desire, body wracked with the kind of overwhelming sensation that made her wonder if some cosmic genie had just granted a request to force upon her the most physical pleasure possible. Drunk with the aftereffects, she was barely lucid enough to have a single thought:

Georgia was right!

***

Chloe was excited on Friday morning. Georgia would come to the lab that afternoon, and if things went as Chloe hoped, she would get brain scans of the kind of intense, long-duration female orgasm that would be a gold mine of information to support a noteworthy journal article. The researcher/tenure-track professor in her was giddy at the thought of a research breakthrough.

Beyond doubt, though, she was also excited at the thought of witnessing Georgia's excitement, knowing what the co-ed was watching while masturbating. Having seen some of the crazy-sexy scenarios that well-done strapon man-fucking videos could produce, Chloe now had first-hand experience with the multiple erotic aspects of a woman penetrating the male asshole for her pleasure and his. She had lived through the mind-blowing orgasm that masturbating while watching a hot, nude, prime-time, hunky stud take it in the ass from a sexy woman strapped into a stiff, fake cock could produce.

That knowledge meant she would have a far better perspective on what was happening during the read-outs on her computer screen as Georgia lay beneath the scanner. No male researcher would ever have that perspective, that intimate knowledge of what was going on in the mind of the research subject.

She grinned to herself as she began preparations for the afternoon's experiment. Maybe now she should consider herself the same kind of researcher as those intrepid souls who gather anthropological research by living with native tribes, learning their languages, and dressing and acting like them in order to discover from an "embedded" perspective what it was like to "be" a member of that society in order to learn what and how they think.

Giggling out loud at the thought as she checked through items needed for the afternoon's experiment, Chloe decided that doing anthropological exploration in a society where women donned strapons as part of a regularly occurring religious ceremony would truly be a marvelous research assignment. All manner of detail rushed to her mind at this thought: The women would take the men of the tribe one by one on a symbolic sacrificial altar where the act of screwing them in the ass until intense female orgasm was triggered was deemed a cleansing ritual that purified the men's souls, allowing them to be proficient hunters as well as proficient lovers. The men would approach the altar, reverently presenting their naked genitals for inspection by the women, who would handle their cocks and balls to the point of erection, with glistening pre-cum on the head of their dicks the indication that they were ready for the gods to bless them with the purification their women would provide in the form of a thick phallus stroked repeatedly into their assholes until the act brought the women to resounding orgasms.

Labeling the folders for the data that would be generated this afternoon, Chloe licked her lips unconsciously as her mind drifted to the sight of a lithe, finely muscled young native man of, say, 25 years, spreading his legs as he leaned over the altar, his cock and balls clearly visible and in an evident state of arousal. He would be told to reach back and spread himself open to allow one of the teen-aged and virginal girls of the tribe tasked with uncorking a large urn of lubricant and tipping it at the top of his ass crack to perform her duty. She would step back from the ceremony, and the woman who was about to take the young hunter would press a finger through the lubricant and into the man's asshole, stroking in and out as the women witnessing the ritual chanted in unison to the thrusts of her finger: "Gods of plenty, bless our tribe with successful hunting and many babies! See our promise made to live in peace and harmony, woman with man, and man with woman!"

Withdrawing her thoroughly coated finger as evidence that she had completely coated the dark tunnel inside the hunter's ass, the woman would approach the bent-over male, grasping her strapon at the base and running its smooth surface around and over his glistening asshole, crack, and balls to smear the gooey substance all over her fake cock. She would then point the phallus directly at his asshole, nudge it into place, and then drape herself over his back while grabbing onto his hips, all in strict accordance with the ceremonial protocols for the ritual. Then, the globes of her beautiful ass would shimmy with each thrust as she fucked him with utter abandon (as required by the gods) until he cried out in delirium and she had a quaking orgasm.

The ceremony would conclude as she withdrew her strapon from her tribe's hunter, the side of the altar dripping with the cum he ejaculated as she screwed him in the ass.

The wide-eyed, virginal teen who had performed her duty with the urn of lubricant would have watched intensely, learning from the woman wearing the strapon, and knowing that she would someday take her turn at the altar behind the muscular flanks of one of the tribe's men.

Snapping back to reality as she noticed she had repetitively created sixteen data folders during her daydream, Chloe shook her head in wonderment.

What is happening to me? Why am I obsessing on the thought of women screwing men in the ass with strapons?

She would return to that native-tribe-religious-ceremony fantasy, she knew.

The morning crawled by at a snail's pace until Chloe was ready to check out the operation of the goggles Georgia would wear underneath the scanner in order to view either "Tutoring Samuel" or "Losing the Bet, Winning the Game." The process was usually one in which she turned on the DVD player, donned the goggles, and watched in disinterest for five seconds or so just to ensure the machinery was all working properly, and then checking a computer read-out against the amount of time she had spent with the video running as shown on the digital display of her stop watch.

This morning was different. Samuel's education was too arousing to limit to five seconds.

"Dr. Burrell?"

Chloe almost jumped out of her skin at the light touch on her arm as she leaned against the scanner platform with the goggles and earphones on, stopwatch in hand.

Katrina was plunging her strapon into Samuel's upturned ass as he moaned repeatedly about how good it felt.

"Dr. Burrell, that replacement ethernet card for the number five computer just came, and the tech resources guy needs your signature."

It was Mandy, one of the lab's research assistants.

God! Had she heard anything from the headphones Chloe was wearing as she "checked out" the system for the afternoon's experiment?

"What?" Chloe said, immediately pressing the stop button on the side of the goggle's cumbersome mechanism for keeping the entire contraption properly positioned over the user's eyes. "What did you say, Mandy?" she asked, placing the stopwatch on the scanner platform.

The girl looked closely at her as she laid the goggles-earphones combination next to the stopwatch. "You know, that ethernet board that got fried yesterday during the server surge?"

"Oh, yes. Of course," Chloe responded, pushing her hair back into place after the mussing it had taken with her surprised and hasty removal of the goggles and earphones. "I was checking the time code against the visuals for this afternoon's experiment. Sorry."

It was logical. It was to be expected. Mandy should believe it.

"I apologize for interrupting your work, but you did ask me to let you know the instant they brought the new board up," Mandy said, anxious to let her supervising faculty member know she was just following instructions.

Overcompensating in her relief, Chloe said, "Thanks, Mandy. You did the right thing, the exact right thing. You know that these time code checks are routine and can be restarted with no problem. Getting this board installed, though, well, that's a high priority." She took the paper and pen the girl proffered and signed the work order. "Please unhook the cables and cords—you know I don't trust anybody but you with our computer set-up—and then let the TR guy take it down to their shop."

"No problem," said Mandy as she left the scanner room. "Sorry again to have disturbed you," she said, closing the door behind her.

Good grief! thought Chloe. She felt like a teen-aged girl who, having heard a knock on her bedroom door, hastily stuffed the Playgirl Magazine she'd been looking at and giggling about with her friend on the phone who was looking at the same issue.

Damn! There wasn't any reason to apologize for grown-up sex! An adult woman shouldn't have to feel apologetic or guilty about having sex with an adult man in a way that involved a strapon dildo, his lubricated asshole, and their mutual enjoyment.

But she did.

Maybe that was part of the appeal . . .

It would NOT be right, though, for her dean, her research subjects, Mandy, or anyone she came in contact with as part of her work at the university to ever, for even a second, suspect that she was being sexually aroused by any topic in her research. No, that was the ultimate taboo. Grant funding, journal article and book chapter acceptance, speaking invitations to professional conferences—they all depended on her ability to maintain a coolly analytical, this-is-totally-about-scientific-research approach to her work.

Breathing a sigh of relief after pressing the cups of the earphones against her thighs and playing "Tutoring Samuel" through the goggles and phones to verify that no sounds escaped that Mandy might have heard, Chloe vowed not to watch anymore strapon man-fucking in the lab for ANY reason, equipment check or no. It was just too easy to get sucked into the fantasy, to forget where she was. From now on, she would check out the time code using the credits of the DVDs, not the scenes that she knew would distract her to the point of becoming lost in the fantasy of being there, of being the woman in the video who was gripping the naked man's hips as she thrust her strapon deep into his asshole, riding him to their mutual, intense sexual satisfaction.

Then, for what?—maybe the hundredth time?—Chloe wondered what it would feel like for real to do this incredibly erotic, naughty, intimate, fantastic thing. Her nipples were erect from watching Samuel take it in the ass and had remained erect during the rush of anxious worry that Mandy might have discovered her enjoying Samuel's penetration. Finally, she gave herself permission to squeeze them lightly through the material of her blouse and bra in an attempt to relieve, at least temporarily, the ache that had so quickly developed after she pressed the play button on the DVD only minutes before.

It didn't help, and she knew it wouldn't. The pinch only intensified her lust to actually be strapped into a fake cock, a nude man bent over in front of her, his cute, pink pucker exposed as he surrendered himself to the screwing she would give him as she rode him to an inevitable, intense, and completely draining—yet totally satisfying—orgasm.

What would it be like? To feel it? To do it? Could she handle the orgasm? If she had come so intensely watching the act, would DOING THE ACT be even more mind-blowing?

Would she ever find a man to do this with her? Oh, how good it had felt that first time she contemplated finding a lover, a mate, who also would play with her like this! Did such men exist? Would she ever meet one?

And then a cloud settled over Chloe's mind. She hadn't even had a date in six weeks. How long would it be before the next? What were the odds that her next date would be with a man who would acquiesce and be turned on by surrendering his asshole to her strapon penetrations? Even if she did find such a guy, how long would it take to reach that point with him? Months, at least, probably years. And where, given her current circle of professional acquaintances, grad students, faculty colleagues, and various journal editors or co-researchers (which were just about the only people with whom she interacted, owing to the insanity of her schedule and work load) would she find a potential lover adventurous enough to explore her desire to take his anal virginity?