Читать книгу My Secret Life - Various, Glenda Jackson - Страница 5

‘You look tired, Ms Lang. Long night?’

Tressa looked up from her iPad to her driver. As always, Marco’s eyes weren’t on the road. They were dark in the rear-view mirror and on her. ‘Not too bad. I just needed to get ready for this meeting with Professor Walton.’

Marco shook his head. ‘You work too hard, boss lady. You should have other things keeping you up at night.’

His gaze flicked down, and she felt it on her thighs where her skirt had ridden too high. She shifted her iPad to cover her bare skin. It didn’t matter what the man said to her, there always seemed to be sexual undertones. Still, he was right. She’d worked double-time to get her promotion, but now that she was the first female VP at Catharsis Pharmaceuticals, she had to work even harder to prove she deserved the job. The long hours left little time for things such as a personal life, men, or even flirtation.

‘This meeting is important,’ she said with a sigh. ‘With our budget tightening, I’m trying to determine if we should continue funding the professor’s research.’

‘What’s he study?’

Marco’s gaze had slid up to her chest, and Tressa suddenly felt as if the silk tank was cut too low. Her cleavage warmed, and she murmured an answer as she tugged at her suit jacket.

‘What was that?’

‘Women.’ She cleared her throat. ‘Professor Walton is a leading expert in Women’s Studies.’

The grin on Marco’s face nearly filled the mirror. ‘A man after my own heart.’

‘Not like that,’ she snapped. ‘He’s researching the effects of gender and social inequalities on health care.’

As far as she could tell, anyway. It was one reason why she’d taken the time for a personal visit. With as much money as her company had delegated towards the professor’s research, she’d been having trouble tracking down the actual study protocols and results.

Marco winked. ‘Believe me, beautiful boss. With men, it’s always like that.’ Slowing, he pulled over to the kerb and parked. ‘Here we are.’

They’d already arrived at the university. Tressa hurried to collect her things but her driver rounded the car before she could exit on her own. He opened the door and took her briefcase. When he extended his other hand, she took it. The clasp was warm and firm, somehow more intimate than a handshake with other men.

The intimacy increased by ten-fold when she stretched her foot to the kerb. The skirt that was already riding too high crept up to her hip. Marco let out a low hum when a sliver of her white panties was exposed. She scrambled out of the car, stood and yanked down the material.

He smiled at her. ‘Have a good meeting.’

He tucked her briefcase in her hand and she turned away, feeling far from professional. How did he do that to her? With just a look and a touch? She felt his stare on her ass with every step she took and by the time she made it inside the Women’s Studies building, she was a warm, flustered mess.

Smoothing her hair, she searched for her composure before knocking at Office 248.

‘Come in.’

She was in control again when she opened the door. ‘Dr Walton?’

‘Ms Lang.’ The professor stood and shook her hand. His touch was firm but cool. He was a thin, erudite man, the opposite of Marco in nearly every way. ‘Welcome. We’re excited to have someone from Catharsis visit the lab.’

Her nod was non-committal. He wouldn’t be excited if he knew the reason behind her visit. ‘I’m interested to see your research.’

‘Wonderful.’ The professor adjusted his glasses. ‘We’ve been doing some innovative things with the funding your company has provided. So far, the results have been very enlightening. If you’ll come this way …’

Intrigued, she followed as he led her to his lab. Would she finally get some answers? The door was locked. She watched as he put in a complicated code and verified it with a thumbprint sensor. As far as security went, he got top marks. Stepping aside, he let her enter. Tressa looked around with curiosity. The space was cramped. Books and manuals took up one entire wall, while equipment and tools were scattered everywhere else.

‘This is an important area of work that has been largely ignored,’ the professor said. ‘We believe that women will benefit greatly from the results.’

Tressa wasn’t familiar with the devices, but she wasn’t a physician or a scientist. Her background was in business. ‘I’m sorry, but what area would that be?’

The professor’s head cocked and his brow furrowed. ‘Why, orgasmic manipulation, of course.’

Orgasmic … The words slowly took meaning in her head, but he couldn’t be talking about …

‘Sex toys, Ms Lang. You look surprised.’

Tressa gaped at him. Surprised? She was shocked, to say the least. ‘Catharsis funded you to look into issues in women’s health care.’

‘Yes, that’s precisely what we’re doing here. Women’s sexual health, to be precise.’

Oh, dear Lord. Tressa’s fingernails bit into her palms. Marco was right. It was exactly like that. She felt blind-sided. Nothing in her preparation for this meeting had indicated this was what was going on at Western University. Had her predecessor known?

She shook her head. ‘I’m sorry, Professor, but Catharsis can’t support something like this.’

As harmless and scholarly as the professor looked, his eyes went steely. ‘Like what? Billions of dollars have been spent studying erectile dysfunction in men. Are you saying, Ms Lang, that women’s sexual satisfaction is unimportant?’

‘Of course not.’ Not when he put it that way.

Walton sighed heavily. ‘Ms Lang, I have five graduate assistants relying on that money to get them to their degrees. Five young, brilliant women, as a matter of fact. Before you decide to cut our funding, at least take the time to learn more.’

Tressa wasn’t sure what she was supposed to do. There was clearly a double standard in play, but where did the ethics stand? He was studying sex toys. She needed to talk to the company’s lawyers and marketing at the very least, but all that attention would put the spotlight on her. This was not how she wanted to start her career as VP.

Her brain clicked fast. ‘Explain to me exactly what the research entails.’

The professor’s eyebrows jumped above the rims of his glasses in hope. ‘I can do more than explain it to you, I can show you.’

She held up her hand. ‘I won’t watch something like this.’

‘Don’t watch. Participate.’

Her mouth dropped open. ‘You want to use sex toys on me?’

‘How old are you?’

‘Thirty-two.’ But that was immaterial. It wasn’t going to happen. Was it?

‘Perfect. I need more data points in that age group. Most of my research subjects are in their early twenties.’

Tressa’s weight shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other. She couldn’t actually be considering this – but she was. If the research was on the up and up and she cancelled it, women’s groups would surely come after Catharsis. Yet if the studies were strictly prurient, right-leaning political groups would come out with guns blazing. It was a no-win situation for her. ‘I suppose I should learn more. Let’s just look at our calendars and find a time.’

‘Let’s do it now.’

She stopped short. ‘Now? But …’

‘I don’t have another class for hours, and I do have the protocol established for my next study.’

‘But …’ She couldn’t think of a good excuse. She needed to clear up this mess as quickly and quietly as possible, but Marco was right outside, waiting for her.

Marco.

Oh God. Her body began humming again. What would he say if he found out? What would he do if he learned what had happened in here? In the back of her mind, she could hear him daring her. She’d worked for too long. Wasn’t it time she got some pleasure in return?

‘All right,’ she agreed. ‘But nobody can know about this.’

‘Nobody will. Your identity will be kept confidential.’ The professor’s shoulders relaxed. Now that he’d been given the chance to fight for his funding, he seemed more at ease. ‘I’m sure you’ll be happy with your decision. Is there anything in particular that you like? Is there an erogenous zone I should pay special attention to?’

Tressa squirmed. She’d die before she’d tell this analytical geek what got her off. ‘Where do we start?’

‘You can take off your clothes.’ Walton glanced about the room and drummed his fingers against his chin. ‘I need to get things ready. I wasn’t prepared to run a test case today.’

With that, he left her. Tressa didn’t know whether to laugh or be grateful when the studious man practically forgot her. He began puttering around the desk, and she hesitantly reached for her clothes.

The insanity of it all made her numb.

What was she doing? She was the VP for a Fortune 500 company. Had she seriously just volunteered to be a test subject for sex research?

‘Modesty is unnecessary.’ The professor glanced her way, but then went back to unloading books off a medical table she hadn’t noticed before. ‘I want you to feel secure and open to new experiences.’

With a deep breath, Tressa took off her suit jacket. The top that she’d thought too low-cut went next, but her hands were sweaty as she reached for the clasp of her bra. The need to hide her nakedness became too strong to ignore. She turned her back on the professor and felt her face heat with embarrassment.

Just get it over with, she told herself. It was too late to back out now.

She yanked on the zipper of her skirt with shaking hands. At last, the only thing holding it up were her clenched fists. Taking a deep breath, she lowered the skirt and stepped out of it.

‘The shoes, too,’ Walton said. ‘It arouses some women to keep them on, but I need you comparable to my control case.’

God, could he be more clinical? Still, it was only that impartiality that allowed her to continue stripping. Soon, she was standing in nothing but her skimpy white panties – the ones Marco had liked so much. She looked down at them.

She simply couldn’t.

‘Here, let me assist.’ The professor was suddenly in front of her. Kneeling, he pulled her underwear down to her ankles.

‘Oh!’ Tressa gasped. The cool air touched her private parts, and her nakedness was suddenly overwhelming. She couldn’t take the intimacy. This man was a stranger and his face was practically in her crotch! She covered her breasts with a forearm as her other hand clamped over the light-coloured curls at the juncture of her legs.

‘I need to get some measurements.’ Walton walked to his desk and returned with a notebook, a pencil and a tape measure. ‘Lift your arms, please.’

Lift her arms? She didn’t think so! Remembering the situation, though, forced her to act through her shyness. By fits and starts, she held her arms out to the side. Conflicting emotions ran through her, and she didn’t know quite how she felt about this.

‘Are your nipples always this turgid?’

He flicked one with his pencil, and she jumped. ‘No, not always,’ she stammered.

Instinct made her reach for herself again, but Walton had already wrapped the tape around her and was measuring her bust.

‘I’ll make a note of it. To ensure consistency, next time I’ll have to manipulate them to arousal before I take my measurements.’

Her stomach sucked in hard. Next time? ‘This is a one-time deal.’

He looked at her over the top of his glasses. ‘Yes, well, one can never tell.’

What did he mean by that?

Tressa yelped when he crouched down in front of her to take another reading. She shifted as embarrassment filled her again, only this time the discomfiture was tinged with arousal.

The tape measure ran directly through her pubic hair, but the professor remained clinical in his evaluation. His nearly stoic behaviour was ironically sensual to her. Her body began to feel almost challenged to gain his attention.

‘You have a very nice shape, Ms Lang.’ He rolled the tape measure up in his hand. ‘You should do well in our experiments. Now, if you’ll please move onto the table, feet in the stirrups.’

She eyed the gynaecologist’s table with something close to dread, yet Walton seemed immune to her uneasiness as she climbed onto the table. He attached sensors to her chest and neck to monitor her temperature, heart rate and blood pressure. She leaned back but, when he moved to stand between the stirrups, her legs instinctively clamped closed. He waited patiently until she summoned the courage to lift one leg and place her foot in the metal support.

She froze when his gaze went straight to her pussy, but his academic mask was firmly in place. Suddenly, Tressa realised why she was so hesitant. He’d gotten her horny. With all his seeming disinterest and absent-minded touches, he’d aroused her.

It didn’t make her feel any better. Now, she was embarrassed that he’d see.

When she didn’t move, he caught her other ankle and shifted her into position. Vulnerability made her squeeze her eyes closed. Her pussy was bare and fully visible, but this man wasn’t her doctor or her lover.

‘Slide down closer to the edge of the table,’ he instructed.

The move forced her legs wider open, but even that didn’t meet with his approval. He adjusted the stirrups until her knees were spread and her hips were tilted. The position made her defenceless, and her heart began pounding like a big bass drum.

‘I need to touch you now,’ he said. ‘Please relax.’

It was impossible to relax as his hands settled on her inner thighs. Her muscles tightened almost painfully, yet he paid no attention to her resistance. Using his thumbs, he smoothed out the lips of her pussy. ‘You’re wet. Have you been excited sexually earlier today or are you becoming aroused?’

Her breaths were coming hard. He was looking right into the depths of her, yet Marco unwillingly came to mind. ‘Both,’ she said in a strained voice.

He slid a finger into her. She was unprepared for the penetration, and the muscles of her lower back contracted reflexively. ‘Ooooh,’ she moaned as her feet pressed hard against the stirrups.

‘That’s good.’ The professor removed his finger and wiped it on a towel. ‘You need to be aroused for the experiment to be effective. It will reduce the amount of lubricant I have to use.’

Tressa’s fingers curled into the paper sheet beneath her. Arousal was one thing, but she was fighting to keep it under control. For some reason, she felt she needed to stay at his level, which was purely observatory and analytical.

‘I have one more measurement to take before we begin the actual test,’ Walton said as he tinkered around his desk. ‘I should warn you that you may experience some discomfort.’

Her eyes widened when she saw him pick up a long cylindrical object. ‘What is that?’

‘I need to measure your vagina. Today’s designers have come up with a wide array of orgasmic manipulators, but I wouldn’t want to hurt you. The measurements will help me choose the most appropriate device for your pleasure.’

‘Oh.’ The air seeped out of her lungs. His clinical language reinforced her need to stay controlled, but as she looked at the tool, she didn’t know if she could stay objective. ‘How does it work?’

He showed her the markings. ‘This will measure the length that you are comfortable taking.’

He showed her a switch at the base of the instrument. When pressed, the device expanded. ‘Obviously, this will determine the breadth. It can cause some discomfort, but our studies have shown that this can be a key factor for females to achieve orgasm.’

‘I understand,’ she said inanely. Size mattered.

Once again, the banal little man stepped between her legs. Her hips automatically tilted and he nodded with approval. He tested her wetness with a swipe of his finger and decided to avoid the lubricant entirely. She felt the blunt end of the tool press against her a moment before it was sliding into her.

The hard plastic went up, up, and up. ‘Oh! I didn’t … Oooooh!’

The smooth cylinder was touching 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.