Loading...It was a warm day, so even though I wanted to dress up a bit for the interview, I still dressed with the temperature in mind. I wore a lift and separate type of bra under a white blouse – high necked with lots of ruffles on it, a cute little black tie and long sleeves. The sleeves were only a little puffy.
I also wore a severe little open blue jacket that in some way countered and offset the impression of my conservative blouse. With this top, I wore a simple, loose-fit, knee-length blue skirt, the same shade as my jacket. I also wore matching blue heels. I don’t like wearing stockings.
It was a nine-fifteen o’clock interview for a science experiment, but a very well-paying science experiment, and I really needed the five hundred dollars. The interview was held in a gymnasium of all things, but it had been very strangely furnished. At the front was a simple table with a lady sitting behind it. There were two empty chairs in front of the table and the rest of the gymnasium was walled off from view by canvas drops from the ceiling. I didn’t know what to make of it, but it seemed like it might be a great maze. I walked forward and seated myself in one of the empty chairs in front of the table. The woman behind the desk glanced up to smile at me and went back to writing something on a notepad. She had all sorts of papers, files and pads in front of her.
I waited a few minutes and another girl came in. She had a slender boyish figure with shoulder length dark brown hair and black-framed glasses. She had worn a two-piece casual suit – a light brown jacket that doubled as a blouse, and matching light brown slacks and dark brown loafers with no socks. She looked to be about twenty-two and sat down in the chair beside me. I noticed from what little skin she showed that she either had a very even tan or was of Mediterranean extraction. Like me, she only rated a glance from the woman behind the desk. No one said a word.
After five minutes of silence, just when I was getting ready to start asking questions, the lady behind the desk sighed, stacked some loose papers and put her hands flat on the desk. “Now we can get started,” she said briefly. She looked to be in her fifties and was wearing a laboratory smock. There was no telling what she wore beneath the smock as only bare legs wearing nursing shoes protruded. She had old-fashioned horn-rimmed glasses. She picked up another sheet of paper and a pencil and looked from the other girl to me, and back to the other girl. “Name?”
“Cheryl,” she answered, “Cheryl Newcas…”
“Don’t need the last name,” the woman interrupted as she turned to me, “Name?”
“Ella.”
The woman behind the desk nodded, “I’m Janice. Ella do you smoke? You, Cheryl?”
We both said no in turn, and then Janice continued with an incredibly long list of questions including a few that I thought were very personal like, “Sexual preference, Cheryl?”
Cheryl stammered a bit while turning pink, “I don’t see how… um, that is…” I could imagine in her head she was watching the five hundred dollars flying away, and then she took a breath and said, “Well, if you must know, I’ve slept with a few men, and a few women, and I haven’t really decided…”
Janice rolled her eyes sarcastically and interrupted again, “Choose from Straight, Curious, Bisexual, or Gay.” For some reason Janice suddenly pinned me with her eyes and added, “You choose curious only if you are completely sexually confused.”
“Um, bisexual, I guess,” Cheryl said a bit miserably, still turning redder.
“Ella?”
“Oh, straight for sure!” I declared. And there more even more personal questions like, have you ever had sex in public? Are you dominant or submissive – I had no idea how to answer that one since neither was appropriate, but Janice insisted on an answer, so I said dominant. I think the worst was ‘Which do you prefer: giving or receiving oral sex?’ Cheryl said giving and I said receiving. And it went on like that, with Janice making her mysterious markings on paper. Then it seemed Janice finally ran out of questions.
She gave us each a serious look then said, “This experiment has two types of characters: Accomplishers and Subjects. All the Accomplisher slots are filled so there is only room left for Subjects. Are you both willing to be Subjects?”
“Is the pay the same?” asked Cheryl cautiously. Her voice was a little high in pitch but somehow still melodious.
“The same,” Janice answered with a nod, so we both expressed our willingness to be subjects.
Half over her shoulder, Janice yelled, “Wilber!”
A moment later a young man wearing a smock and black trousers came out from behind a fold in the canvas and beckoned to Cheryl and myself, “You’re to follow me, please.” He said with a shy little grin. And we followed him down canvas hallway after hallway. It was a maze and it was peppered with what I assumed to be rooms since some pieces of canvas had numbers on them. Finally, Wilber stopped in front of a canvas marked 37. He held it open like a tent flap and said, “Step in here please,” and then he followed us in.
We were in a canvas room that went from the floor to the rafters on the walls and even the door. The room was about ten feet square. One side had a flat couch like the kind that doctor’s use to examine patients, and across from it was a wooden chair. Even the floor was covered in canvas. It seemed very quiet as if the canvas muffled sound. Wilber gave us another of his shy smiles and said, “I’ll be back in about thirty minutes, and should be able to give you some idea of the waiting time.” Then he disappeared.
I walked directly over to the wooden chair and sat down. There was absolutely nothing in the room but the color of canvas; even the examining couch and the wooden chair were painted the tan/off-white of the canvas. That is, except for Cheryl and I, who suddenly seemed very colorful. Cheryl gave me a fishy look for grabbing the chair and went over to examine the controls at the far end of the examining couch. She found a way to lower the couch to chair height and primly sat down in the middle of it. Cheryl had sat down precisely opposite to me, crossed her legs and then just looked downward.
Neither of us said anything for a while, and Cheryl seemed fixed to a downward gaze, but eventually she cleared her throat and said, “I had to wait nine hours yesterday, and when they sent me home, they told me that no decision had been made about me, and to come back tomorrow.”
She had brown eyes that looked a little sad and soulful at the moment. I swallowed and asked, “You really waited nine hours? Was it a room like this?”
She nodded and said, “Just like this, only when they told us that the wait would be four hours or more, the other girl just got up and left. I heard them tell her not bother to come back tomorrow.” Cheryl gave me a direct look and a little smile, “So I’m waitin’ until the cows come home if it’s necessary.”
I nodded, privately agreeing with her. After a few more minutes, Cheryl asked, “Is that your natural hair color?” then she added with a stammer, “I-I only ask because it’s such a lovely shade of blond.”
“Yes,” I answered, “its called honey blond, I think.” I glanced at my watch. It had been ten minutes since Wilber left.
“It’s the same color as your eyebrows,” continued Cheryl mildly, “and you know what they say about that?”
“No, what do people say about eyebrows?” I frowned. Not only was she asking leading questions, but Cheryl had also answered bisexual to that sexual preference question. I thought to myself, surely she isn’t trying to hit on me, or something like that?
“Well they say,” Cheryl said slowly looking at me over the edge of her black-framed glasses, “That if the eyebrows match the head, it’s a safe bet on the color of the pubic hair.”
“I’ve never heard any such thing!” I said flatly, wondering in the back of my mind if there was any truth to it.
“‘Tis in my case,” Cheryl said coyly.
I fell for it. I looked at her eyebrows. Dark brown, almost black like her hair. I blushed when she gave me an open friendly grin for looking at her eyebrows. “That’s a bit predictable for a brunette, isn’t it?” I scoffed.
Cheryl gave a slight shrug of one shoulder while still gazing into my eyes, “So how about it? Does your pubic hair match your eyebrows?”
I glared at her, “I’ve no intention of discussing the color of my pubic hair with you, Cheryl!”
“Would you show it to me then?”
“No!”
She gave another tiny shrug, but this time the ghost of a smile moved across her face, almost too quick to see. She went back to looking down but didn’t say anything else.
I waited five more minutes and glanced at my watch again – fifteen minutes had gone by. I glanced at Cheryl, looked away and then did a double-take on Cheryl. I realized that just possibly, Cheryl had been staring at my legs the whole time, except for when she was actively conversing with me. I crossed my legs while watching her carefully. I was pretty sure I’d seen her eyes move ever so slightly. I had formerly been sitting with my feet flat on the floor, and I wasn’t sure if I’d been keeping my knees tight together – had I been showing my panties, or something? I felt annoyed. I couldn’t really accuse her of looking at my legs as she could quite believably deny it and then I would look paranoid. I glanced again at my watch – one minute had passed since the last time I looked. I crossed my legs again.
“So what could be the difference between accomplishers and subjects?” I asked, going out of my mind with boredom.
Slowly Cheryl raised her eyes to mine, “I have no idea,” she said.
There was just something about her slow movements and the way she spoke. Was it just a little too sensuous? Is that the right word for her movements, I wondered? I could almost swear that Cheryl was trying to seduce me. She maintained eye contact with me, her lips slightly parted – until I looked away, and then her gaze sank downward again. Exasperated I went ahead and asked, “Cheryl, are you staring at my legs?”
Cheryl blinked at me owlishly for a startled moment, then answered, “I can’t believe you can smell me from all the way over there.”
I was dumbfounded. Smell her? What could she be talking about, unless… But no, surely not! But I had to ask, “So let me understand this. You are staring at my legs and that sexually excites you to the point that your genitals are releasing pheromones or something?”
“Well actually,” Cheryl looked flustered, “Yes, I’m staring at your legs, and yes looking at you is arousing me quite a bit, but I couldn’t believe you could smell me from all the way over there, so you don’t really KNOW anything.”
I closed my eyes slowly, “I don’t smell you, Cheryl.” I opened my eyes and she was still looking into mine, “Do you think you could look somewhere else for a while, Cheryl?”
She shook her head but spoke reasonably. “There’s nothing else in here to look at but you. And isn’t time passing slowly enough as it is? So I am entertaining myself. What’s wrong with that?”
I couldn’t answer, so I clammed up. I tried looking anywhere in the room but at Cheryl. It was impossible. My eyes always swung back to the only color in the room – the woman across from me. I glanced at my watch – Wilber should be returning any time now. I glanced at Cheryl, and she was still looking at my legs, her lips slightly parted. I thought about how she was just sitting there, staring at my legs and thinking lewd thoughts about my body and becoming aroused. Suddenly a hot flash spread through me, coming from the base of my spine. I suddenly felt warm, sensual, and yes, even a little aroused. Cheryl’s thinking about me was turning me on? Is this what exhibitionism is all about?
Suddenly Wilber was in the room with only a slight rustle of canvas to suggest how he got there. “I’m really sorry, ladies, but it looks like it will be at least four more hours or even more. If you’ll stay, we can bring you a light snack in about two hours?”
I found myself glancing at Wilber’s crotch while I said, “Okay, I’ll stay.” Cheryl echoed my response. I added, “Could we get some magazines or something?”
Wilber spread his hands helplessly, “Sorry, we don’t have any magazines.” And he disappeared before I could think of asking for anything else.
Cheryl sighed, and I echoed it. Cheryl glanced sharply at me, “If we’re going to be here for at least four more hours, and just possibly nine hours, don’t you think you could be a little more cooperative? I mean, just to pass the time?”
“Huh?” I said looking at her blankly. “What do you mean cooperative?”
Cheryl looked me up and down, “Well, if you won’t show me your pubic hair, you could at least tell me what color it is.”
I folded my arms and crossed my legs. “What would be the point, Cheryl?” I was a little angry, but I really knew how she would answer that, so I added, “Okay then, if it will help your fantasies, yes it is also a honey blond color, only maybe a little darker.”
“Thank you, Ella,” Cheryl said, her voice softening to velvet, “That’s very generous of you.”
A couple of minutes passed, and I finally noticed Cheryl was staring at my legs again, her lips slightly parted, no doubt fantasizing about… about what? I needed something to do as desperately as Cheryl did. I felt myself getting warm and aroused again. As much as I tried to smother my sexual feelings, they just got stronger.
Suddenly Cheryl asked, “Are you scared of me because I answered bisexual?”
“Maybe a little,” I admitted. “It just feels so creepy that you are just sitting there having sexual thoughts about me.”
Cheryl raised her gaze to mine, “Why not think about it this way: It feels good, no matter who is doing the touching.”
I shuddered, “That is so gross!”
“Oh come on, Ella,” she persisted, “am I really that disgusting to you?”
“Well, no,” I found myself admitting again, “Actually, you are pretty, and if I was inclined to be bisexual, I’m sure we could joyfully kill the whole day.”
“You’d have terrific fun, and it would be SO interesting, don’t you think?” asked Cheryl wistfully.
I shrugged, “I suppose so, but you know, anyone could walk in here any minute. How would it look for someone to come in and find us with your face in my lap?”
Cheryl blinked, “It would look normal enough. I mean, I admitted I was bisexual, and sex is certainly a natural enough pastime when there is nothing else to do.” Cheryl looked at me shyly over the rim of her glasses, “I guess you’d have to change your answer about your sexual preference though.”
That got a smile from me. I couldn’t help it. I cleared my throat, having trouble believing what I was getting ready to say, “If it would help you pass the time, Cheryl, well, I wouldn’t be offended if you touched yourself.”
Cheryl made a little squeak in her throat, “That is just so sweet of you, Ella! I honestly wish I could kiss you in gratitude.”
I’m sure I turned redder than I already was, “Oh, think nothing of it, Cheryl.” I grudgingly added, “I’ll even watch you touch yourself, if you really want me to.”
“No,” Cheryl insisted, standing up and walking over to the front of my chair, “I honestly wish I could kiss you in gratitude.”
I looked up at her in dismay, “Well, I’m sorry Cheryl, but I don’t want to kiss you.” She reached down for my hands and tugged. To my surprise I found myself standing up for her. She was standing too close to me, and I wanted to back up but I couldn’t as my legs were already touching the edge of the chair. Cheryl put her hands on my upper chest and slid them up and over my shoulders, then she was hugging my neck in her arms and her face turned diagonally and she was kissing me. All before I really knew or had time to artfully escape. I suppose I could have turned my cheek to her but I hadn’t. I had just stood there, helpless as a mannequin while she manipulated me.
And here I was thinking how shocked I am by Cheryl’s kiss, and she’s still doing it! I had just automatically opened my mouth to her when her lips, molded over mine as they were, spread apart to let her hot tongue escape from her mouth and into mine. And I had no excuse at all for my tongue rubbing hers like that, and why did I find it so sweet to taste the underside of her tongue? The kiss was going on long enough that I notice my breathing through my nose and how my heart was beating faster, and there were butterflies in my lower abdomen, and a spreading warmth in my groin…
I could hear Cheryl’s breathing too, and how it was slowly speeding up. I could smell her hair, and noticed she was pressing her breasts against mine. Her breasts weren’t big but I could feel that they were firm. Finally her kiss broke and I stood there panting and gazing into her deep brown eyes. She spoke slowly and very softly, “Ella, I don’t think it would be too much trouble for you to pretend to be bisexual would it? Just for a day?”
I stepped sideways which freed me from the chair and let me back up to the canvas wall, which was solid – maybe there was a big cabinet on the other side or something. I stood there with my heart pounding and she just stepped forward, filling the distance I had gained until she was closer than ever, touching my breasts softly with her hands and kissing me again. Why couldn’t I stop this? But I really knew why – because I was so terrifically sexually aroused – more so than I had ever been before for some reason. But what reason could there be? It could only be because Cheryl was so powerfully seductive, and Cheryl was a woman, and that made this whole thing queer as it gets! I was literally dizzy with desire for Cheryl and at the same time, horrified at myself for feeling this way.
I finally found the strength to push back on Cheryl’s shoulders, “Please stop, Cheryl, this just isn’t my thing!”
Cheryl gave me a huge grin that showed her even white teeth, and turned her back on me, swaying her hips seductively as she crossed the room to sit on the edge of the couch again. I somehow fumbled into my chair. Cheryl was still smiling, “That’s all you had to say, just stop. I wonder why it took you so long?”
“I’m not sure,” I answered, “you just made me doubt everything I ever believed about myself.”
“And what do you think would have happened if you hadn’t have told me to stop?” asked Cheryl while literally tonguing her cheek.
“I don’t know,” I shivered, “Anything you wanted, I guess. I was just so excited…”
“You still are, Ella,” Cheryl’s licked her lips, “I bet if you felt your panties right now, you’d find them wet with desire. Desire for me, isn’t that right, Ella?”
“Yes, I mean, I don’t know,” I blurted trying to take a deep breath, “Okay, yes. I think it’s perverted, but yes, that’s how I feel, and I’m sure my panties are wet, Cheryl. I don’t know why I desire you, but I do.”
“And you can have me,” said Cheryl softly and sweetly, “All you have to do is walk across the room to me and take what you want. Or invite me back over there. If you do that, I will come over there and this time I will take what I want, and I won’t stop until your cum juices are running down my chin.”
Despite the vulgarity of her words, they hit me with sledgehammer force, just about tipping me over the edge, just to the verge of asking her to come to me, I gasped, “Cheryl, don’t say such things! Please!” My demand ended on a near hysterical high note.
“Just admit it to me, Ella, please. Admit that my face would look beautiful between your legs, come on, say it.” Cheryl suggestively unbuttoned the top button on her jacket/blouse. She only had three buttons, and unbuttoning the top one served to give a V neck that went well beneath her breasts, making it plain she wasn’t wearing a bra. I remembered how firm her breasts had felt pressed against mine. “Say it, Ella,” Cheryl persisted, “Either say it or I’ll just come do it, Ella!”
“Okay,” I gasped, shutting my eyes, “Your face would look beautiful between my legs, Cheryl.” Where was my self-control? Why was I still aroused to fever pitch?
“Take your panties off, Ella.” Cheryl said softly.
“What?” I felt confused; I wasn’t sure what I was hearing.
“Please Ella, just reach under your skirt and pull down your panties to your feet and step out of them.” Cheryl repeated patiently.
“No,” I objected, “I won’t take my panties off for you Cheryl. And why should I?”
“Because you’ll feel humiliated if I come over there and take them off of you, Ella. You’ll feel humiliated because you wouldn’t make a move to stop me. You couldn’t.” Cheryl looked at me almost sadly and certainly with compassion, “Please make things easier for both of us and take off your own panties.”
I swallowed unable to believe I was going to do as she bid me. I put my hands under my skirt from the sides so I wouldn’t raise the front. I raised my hips a little and pulled down my panties, all the way down to my ankles. Why? Because every thing she said was true. I would do anything Cheryl wanted because I suddenly wanted Cheryl so badly, and couldn’t even have said why. My panties were light blue. I stepped out of them carefully, and held them wadded in my right hand. My panties were definitely damp.
“Bring them to me, Ella.” When I hesitated, Cheryl’s tone softened, “Please bring them to me Ella?”
I swallowed and stood and crossed the room. Blushing furiously, I held out my panties to Cheryl. She took them, touching my hand with her long fingers in the process. Her touch made me shiver. She held my panties close to her nose and sniffed, and looking directly into my eyes she said, “Oh that’s very nice, Ella. Very nice!” Then she tucked the panties inside her combo jacket and blouse, underneath her left breast.
She stood up in front of me, “Okay, Ella, now I want you to sniff your panties for me,” she unbuttoned her second button leaving her blouse wide open in the front. She pulled the left side of her blouse outward, so I could clearly see her left breast. It was only about half the size of my breasts, but it was round, firm and sported an already aroused plump chocolate-brown nipple. “Come on, Ella, just put your face inside here and sniff your panties for me.”
Once again I couldn’t say why exactly, but the sight of her lovely breast settled any possible argument, I leaned inside her blouse so that her turgid nipple was touching my left cheek and I sniffed. There was the slightest hint of pee in the almost overwhelming waft of musky pussy smell. I should have been disgusted, repulsed by this, but I wasn’t at all – quite the opposite in fact. I turned my head and kissed her breast, little kisses all over it, saving the best for last. I made my lips into a soft ‘o’ around her nipple and flicked it as gently as I could with the tip of my tongue.
I heard Cheryl sigh softly and her fingers moved through my hair and touched the back of my neck. I drew back and licked her nipple over and over but still very lightly, and then I sucked it firmly into my mouth and tongued it hard while tugging on it. I felt as much as saw her open the bottom button of her combo blouse and jacket. As my panties fell forgotten to the floor, I moved over to her right breast. While I made love to her right breast, Cheryl slipped off her jacket and set it on the couch beside her. Finally touching both her breasts with the palms of both my hands, I raised my face to Cheryl, wanting her to kiss me. But she didn’t. Instead she turned and walked to the end of the couch and used one of the controls to raise the couch about four inches.
“Bring your chair over here, Ella,” Cheryl said with a little urgency in her voice. While moving the chair over to the couch, Cheryl unfastened her trousers and stepped out of them. With no socks or panties, Cheryl was now completely naked. She stepped backward and with a little hop perched on the edge of the couch. “Pull your chair up in front of me dear, so you’ll be comfortable. This may take a little while.”
I knew what she wanted me to do, and somehow I knew this was my destination since I’d first sat down in the room. I sat in the chair facing her to find her groin just an inch or two lower than my chin. I looked at her, wondering why I found the sight of her pussy to be so lovely. Her dark hair seemed to be trimmed in length somewhat but otherwise Cheryl was presenting herself as nature made her. Her crevice was already slightly open from the spreading of her legs, showing her small hood and just a glimpse of the opening to her vagina beneath. I breathed in her smell as my face moved irresistibly forward. Her perfume filled my head like wine, and I actually felt thirst on my lips as my tongue invaded her moisture and then I filled her with kisses and licks. Cheryl let me explore her for a short while.
“I know that right now, you are having more fun than you ever did before, Ella, but please baby, I need you to make me come.” I accepted her gentle admonishment and laved her clit with her own vaginal juices and set to work with a rhythm – wobbling her hood left and right with the tip of my tongue and then every half dozen wobbles a love bite with my lips on her hood. I slid my two middle fingers up her vagina and hooked my fingertips to massage the slightly rougher patch of skin that made up her g-spot. It was with a fierce pride on my part that I made her come in just under four minutes – at least, four minutes past the admonishment. I wasted maybe two minutes just enjoying being there in her pussy.
Her legs were wrapped around me and her thighs rested on my shoulders as she shook, shivered and grunted at the intensity of her orgasm, and I ruthlessly rode her little hood relentlessly to keep her orgasm going as long as possible. I’m not sure how long that orgasm lasted, but I felt like it was the happiest time of my life. I really think I enjoyed it almost as much as she did.
Then as soon as she relaxed she pushed me back and hopped off the couch. She hooked her hands under my arms and drew me to my feet. Staring intensely into my eyes, Cheryl said, “I don’t ever do this, but in your case, I just have to – but we need to hurry and not waste any time.” Of course I had no idea what she was talking about, but part of it cleared up as soon as she had me take her place on the couch. She sat in the chair, and just as I reached for the hem of my skirt, she put her hand firmly on top of mine and looked up at me, “Ella, please raise your skirt for me and give yourself to me, but only because you want to give something special to me.”
I was pretty sure she was trying to give me some of my dignity back, and although I really did appreciate her kindness, I pulled my skirt up as soon as she took her hand away, “Just shut up and eat me, Cheryl” I gasped as I locked my ankles behind her neck. And she did look incredibly beautiful between my legs. And right away she was making beautiful things happen inside my pussy. I came harder and faster than I ever had before, pulling Cheryl’s face into my pussy so hard I must have nearly suffocated her.
She only took the time to give me one, nice, long kiss of sharing each other’s pussy perfumes. And then she was rapidly getting dressed. Once she had dressed and I had pulled back on my damp panties, Cheryl patted her hair in place, gave me a wink and reached under the edge of the couch to push some secret button there. Smiling, she took me hand in hand through the canvas maze and back out to the front desk where Janice was still guarding our purses. Janice looked up smiling, “Not your best time or your worst, but still very good, Cheryl – you rung out at exactly ten forty-seven.”
I looked at Cheryl, trying not to feel hurt, “I get the impression that you are one of the people they call an accomplisher!”
“Not just an accomplisher,” said Janice with a little indignation, “Cheryl is the best!”
“So the point is to see how quickly a girl can be talked into giving oral sex to her accomplisher?” I was pretty sure I was on track by now. But I was also hurting a little more. I couldn’t believe it, but I wanted to see Cheryl again.
“Yep,” smiled Cheryl, “Yes, and it’s giving us valuable research data. Could you have guessed, for instance which group has the tendency to capitulate the fastest?”
“Group?” I asked, feeling confused again.
“Yeah, you know,” explained Janice, “Straight, Curious, Bisexual, or Gay.”
“Um, Curious?”
“Actually, that is the most extreme group. They either capitulate right away, or hold out for the longest. No, the quickest to tumble on average is Straight. Gay is the most resistant with bisexual bringing up a not too close second. There’s also quite a few quick capitulators in bisexual, but not as big of a percentage as in Curious.” Cheryl laid it all out in detail while Janice filled out my check for five hundred dollars – which made me feel a little better. After summing up, Cheryl asked, “Any questions?”
“Your phone number?” I asked wistfully, but knowing she would refuse.
“Sorry,” Cheryl said, giving me a sympathetic look, “Accomplishers can’t socialize with subjects. It would be unethical.”
“I understand,” I said, hoping I wouldn’t actually start to tear up.
“Well, there’s no rule against accomplishers socializing with each other,” said Janice with a slight smile.
“We have an opening for another accomplisher?” asked Cheryl sharply.
Janice blinked, “This experiment still has six months to run, and Angela is getting married next week and her husband is adamant about her not seducing women for a living. Can’t really blame him, you know.” Then Janice looked at me, “Pay is five hundred a week for an accomplisher, but you don’t get paid for the five days of training. And it’s a rule that you can’t apply for an accomplisher job without having been a subject, so you’re okay there. Here’s the form if you want to fill it out.”
As I was reaching for the pen to fill out the application, I asked idly, “What percentage of women actually refuse to service the accomplisher?”
Cheryl snorted through her nose, so Janice answered, “Zero. So you also have to be prepared to experience two to five orgasms a day, depending on how much you accomplish.”
Cheryl giggled, “Don’t worry, sweetie, as long as the subject puts in a decent effort, you can always fake it.”
“Hmm,” and then I asked, “How often do you fake it, Cheryl.”
She gave me that intense directly-into-my-soul look of hers and said, “I never fake it, sweetie. I’m a girl who just needs that many orgasms a day.” She gave me a little smile, “And if I say yes when you ask me for a date, I’ll expect at least two before the evening is over.”
I decided to let Cheryl have the last word.