The Experiment

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The Experiment

It began with a notice in our college newspaper.

“Wanted. Students for a psychological experience involving sexual attitudes. Must be open-minded, willing to experiment. Couples only! $500 each, for a five-day study during Spring break.”

$500 to a college student is a fortune. I’d do a lot for that. But the requirement for couples was a problem. While Betty and I had been going together for months, she was not the “willing to experiment” type. That in fact was one impediment in what was otherwise a happy and affectionate relationship. We’d been intimate, sure, but anything that your average missionary wouldn’t approve of, was off limits.

Even though I knew she also needed the money, I knew it would be a hard sell. Her initial reaction was as expected.

“No way am I buying into a sex-besotted experiment, doing God-knows what,” she said. “Are you insane?”

She uses words like “besotted.” The hazards of dating an English major.

“You don’t even know what it entails,” I said. “Don’t reject it out of hand.”

“Well, but you don’t know either. I’m not willing to have our sex life probed and examined.”

“Who said it involves our sex life?” I responded. Then foolishly added, “As limited as it is.”

“I beg your pardon?” she flared. “Are you back on that kick, trying to get me to do unnatural stuff?”

Oh my. I’d never persuade her like this. I changed tactics.

“With a $1,000 between us, we could go on a weekend retreat to that bed and breakfast you’ve talked about. It’d be a nice reward after exams.”

That bait bobbed on the surface for a while. Then she nibbled.

“Let’s talk with the professor running the study. He can give us more information,” she suggested.

A few days later, we arranged a Zoom call with the professor.

“Dr. McIntyre, we’d like to know some more about the psychological study you’re doing over Spring break. What’s the purpose, and what’s expected of the participants?”

He responded: “The study is designed to analyze participants’ reaction to uncomfortable sexual situations. We’ll deliberately expose them to things that are unfamiliar. Some tests will feature a reward or a punishment, as an inducement. Then we’ll try to discern what motivates people to buy into, or to reject, new attitudes.”

Betty was wary. “What exactly are we talking about? Is there sex involved?

“I can’t go into more details, as we want the participants’ reaction to be spontaneous. No one will be forced to do something they absolutely don’t want to do. But you have to commit to carefully consider everything, and to be articulate in your responses as why you chose or refuse to do something. I’ve had great response to the notice, so I only have a few slots left. Let me know soon if you’re interested.”

Articulate was not a problem for my English major but the exact nature of what we were to do was still shrouded in mystery. To me, the prospect of her confronting new sexual attitudes was very appealing. So, I pressed her.

“Look, college is about expanding horizons. The professor says you’d never have to do something you hate. Why not take a chance? We could really use $1,000.”

She was skeptical, but in the end, she agreed. We signed up.

When Spring break began, the 12 couples who were part of the study gathered in the meeting room of one of the dorms. Most students had gone home for the break, so we basically had the dorm to ourselves.

Day 1: Dr. McIntyre greeted us.

“Thank you all for agreeing to be part of this study. You’re doing the psychology department a service by your participation, and I suspect you’ll know a lot more about yourselves when this is over.

“I know you’re curious what we’ll be doing. Many of you asked for details, but we were careful not to reveal much. That changes now.

“Sex is one of the strongest influences in our lives, if not the strongest. If we’re not engaged with sex, we’re usually thinking about it.”

There was some nervous agreement and laughter about this.

“Sex is a universal presence, but we hide it away behind phobias and restrictions. We view sex through societal rules and conventions, some logical, others not. Girls don’t think twice about being in a skimpy bikini on a beach, but would you wear one down Main Street — or to class? We’re going to examine those attitudes toward our bodies. For our first exercise, tomorrow I’m asking you is to come to this session wearing a bathing suit, girls in bikinis, guys in swim trunks.”

There was a predictable murmur over that directive. Many guys had a smug look, contemplating seeing all the females wearing very little. The girls were less gleeful — despite the fact that the guys would be similarly underdressed.

Dr. McIntyre let this sink in for a while, then asked: “Who here is uncomfortable with coming to class in swimwear? If you are, we can talk about your getting an exemption.”

No one stirred, until one girl raised her hand. As soon as she did, Ankara escort half the girls raised their hands. One spoke:

“I don’t want people to be staring at me. On the beach, there’s a reason for a bathing suit. It’s hot, you’re sweating, you can go in the water. The only reason to wear a bathing suit here is so that guys can stare at us.”

There were a lot of heads nodding in agreement.

“Well, I can understand that,” said the Professor. “No one wants to be objectified. So let me change the equation. I’ll give $50 to every girl who wears a bikini here tomorrow. Does that make a difference?”

It made a big difference. Every girl in the class said they’d be okay with that incentive, even Betty.

The guys wanted to know if they would get $50 too.

“No way,” said Dr. McIntyre. “You’re lucky I don’t charge you guys $50 each to see the girls in their swim suits.”

We laughed, and I don’t think any of us guys really expected men would get the cash bonus. But the societal construct over how men and women treat revealing their bodies was stark.

Before we left, Dr. McIntyre asked us tomorrow to also bring regular street clothes, as we would not be wearing the bathing suits the entire class.

Day 2. We came as we were instructed. There was a noticeable excitement in the air, as we eyed each other. Clothes hide and shape our bodies, concealing what we want concealed and displaying the shape we’re proud of. A bikini doesn’t allow for much deception. We eyed the girls, noticing whose breasts spilled from their tops, whose did not, and who had a few extra pounds around their middle. Guys were likewise exposed as to their musculature. The girls were right. There is no purpose to a bathing suit outside of a beach, except to reveal the body.

The discussion drove home the point that our professed attitudes can be influenced by many factors. No girl wanted to be objectified. But funny how that understandable concern evaporated for $50.

But the Professor had a wrinkle prepared.

“Now that we’ve spent a fair amount of time wearing swimwear, we’re going to change. I want you all to change into your underwear. There’s hardly any difference between the garments, so no one should object to being viewed in underwear.”

But there was a mini mutiny over this directive. The girls protested that underwear was different.

“I know it feels different,” said Professor McIntyre. “That’s the whole point. I want you to experience the difference, so later we can discuss it.”

With some grumbling, the girls went into the women’s bathroom, and began to change into their bras and panties. In truth, panties often covered more of their skin than bikini bottoms. Yet they felt more vulnerable knowing it was underwear.

We guys, who’d gone into the men’s bathroom, were actually the ones more exposed, as men’s underwear is thinner than swim trunks. The girls could see more of us, especially a few whose penises bulged against the fabric from the sexual tension.

We all discussed how the atmosphere was more sexually charged sitting around in underwear, despite that the same amount of bare skin was revealed. Most of all, we wondered where this study was headed.

Dr. McIntyre gave us the answer as he dismissed us for the day. “Tomorrow we’re going to extend our exploration of attitudes toward the body. One girl and one guy will be asked to volunteer to be nude for the class. Please consider who it will be.”

We were stunned. There was silence as this dramatic news seeped in.

“Professor, what if no one volunteers?” asked one of the girls.

“It’s required that someone from each gender volunteer. You have to work that out.”

It was a slow walk back to the dorm rooms. The guys and girls each huddled, trying to figure out who the sacrificial lamb would be.

It went quickly for the guys; two volunteered. Both guys were physically very fit, gym rats, and proud of their bodies. Obviously proud of all parts of their body. Lots were drawn and one was selected.

For the girls, it was different. No one volunteered. Several insisted they would never, ever, agree to it. There were expressions of outrage and a sense of betrayal. Hadn’t they been told they’d not be forced to do something they didn’t want to? But one girl, Tiffany, was mostly silent in the heated discussion. She was a thin girl, with small breasts. Not voluptuous, and one who looked better with clothes on than without. The last person who should want to flaunt her body. After the discussion had raged on for a half hour, she spoke.

“I’ll do it.”

“You don’t have to,” said another girl. “If we all stand firm, we can force the Professor’s hand. He can’t oppose all of us.”

“No, I want to do it. I’ve spent my life wearing padded bras and hoping I looked better than I know I do. I look more like a boy than a girl. But if this study is about changing our attitudes toward our bodies, I shouldn’t hide. I’ll let everyone look at me. Ankara escort bayan Naked and unafraid.”

It was hard to argue with that courage. So, it was decided.

Day 3. The tension in the room was palpable. Our two guinea pigs, Tom for the guys, Tiffany for the girls, sat dressed, waiting for instructions. Would they be asked to strip in front of us? Sit naked in their chairs, walk around? What about during the lunch break? Would the guys have erections? How to handle that?

“Good morning class,” said the Professor. “Let’s talk about how you handled selecting today’s volunteers.”

One of the guys spoke. “It went quickly. Two of us volunteered right away, and most of the time was spent figuring out which one would be selected. Took about 5 minutes.”

“It was very different for us girls,” one said. “We were outraged.” She described the back-and-forth arguments, and how Tiffany had at the end bravely volunteered herself.

“So, what does that tell you about the role of men’s and women’s bodies in our society?” asked the Professor. “Women’s naked bodies and curves are flaunted everywhere; in advertisements, in photographs, in movies. Yet when asked to be naked here, it was the guys who had the easier time. Perhaps it’s ok for “other” women to expose their bodies, but good girls don’t. You’ll analyze the dynamics at play here during the discussion group. But now it’s time for our volunteers.”

Dead silence.

“Tom, Tiffany, please come forward.”

The two came to the front.

“Please remove your clothes.”

No one was breathing. Was this really going to happen? We knew it was, but it was still shocking.

Tom quickly began shucking off his clothes. He was down to his underpants before Tiffany got off her blouse. He paused, and all eyes shifted to Tiffany.

With a resolute look on her face, Tiffany took off her blouse and then the bra. Her small breasts were even smaller without the artifice of the bra, but they were shapely and well formed. Even cute. She pulled off her pants. Then the two volunteers removed their last underwear. They stood there, naked. Tom, who had worried if he’d have an erection, breathed a sigh of relief. It was nudity, but it wasn’t erotic.

“Let’s give them a hand for their courage,” said the professor. And we all clapped. Someone called out “Bravo.” We were proud of them. And they smiled showing their appreciation. Then they took their seats.

The class continued, as the Professor led us in a discussion of the times when society’s strictures on nudity are lifted. In locker rooms, in artwork, on some beaches, getting a massage, hot tubs and certainly Hollywood movies. Tom and Tiffany participated as normal in the discussion. We soon stopped staring at their bodies. Once the excitement of the first exposure was past, we realized that we were looking at their faces when they talked. Their naked state was accepted as part of the scene. It stopped being titillating.

The Professor noted our acceptance of them. And asked if anyone else would like to join them in nudity.

Awkward silence. Bill, the other guy who had volunteered to be nude, looked around to see if anyone else would do it. He’d immediately be the second. But no one stirred.

“That’s ok,” said Dr. McIntyre. “You’re not ready. Understandable. Just gives us more opportunity to consider what’s going on.”

After a while, he had Tom and Tiffany put their clothes back on. When the class ended, he told us of our assignment for the next day.

“We insisted that you all agree to participate as couples. We did this because of our next exercise. Each couple is to discuss a sexual act or position that they’ve never been willing to engage in before. And consider what attitudes are holding them back. Tomorrow you’ll be asked to reveal it to the class. We’ll discuss our attitudes toward what I’ll call ‘non-conventional sex.’ But, and this is important, you are not to perform the act before we all discuss it.”

I figured I’d get an earful from Betty. This was exactly the intrusion into our private lives that she feared. But she surprised me.

“I see where this class is going,” she said. “The class is making us question every sexual attitude. I never thought that I’d accept the idea of a naked guy sitting across from me. But Tom is a beautiful man, and I got used to looking at him without shock.”

“I’ll bet,” I smiled at her.

“You know what I mean. The forbidden loses its power when it is normalized.”

“Exactly. So,” I said, “shall we discuss what has been forbidden in our sex life?”

“I guess I have to. It would be dishonest not to.”

Betty’s hang-up had always been receiving oral sex. She said it was unnatural. I enjoyed performing it, as it was such a powerful stimulant to the woman that the excitement of my partner excited me. To my surprise, Betty revealed that she had a fantasy. She was tempted by the idea of having a masseur who’d bring her to a sexual climax.

I Escort Ankara was more than willing to fulfill that fantasy, but the Professor had instructed us to wait. Damn it.

Day 4. It was awkward to be discussing one’s sex life with a group, with one’s partner sitting right there, listening. But we were getting used to awkward. The professor asked who wanted to go first.

As always, it just took one person to volunteer… then the others poured behind.

“I’d love to have sex in a public place, with the risk of being seen.”

“I’d opt for 69 sex, but my girlfriend thinks it’s nasty.”

“People talk of the pleasure of anal sex, but I’m afraid to suggest it because it makes me sound like a pervert.”

“I’d love to watch my girlfriend masturbate. But it seems sick to suggest that, when we could have intercourse.”

Others talked of intercourse with a third or fourth participant, voyeurism, even mild bondage. Some of the impediments to these acts were reasonable: you can be arrested for sex in a public place; there’s the difficulty of procuring additional and reliable sex partners. Some objections were cultural: societal objections to acts which are often performed in private, but cannot be discussed in public.

The more we talked, the more it became apparent that most everyone had some desire to experiment, to experience something even if just once. Those who claimed not to have a hidden secret nonetheless were turned on by the secrets of others.

The professor dutifully marked on the blackboard each desire and the interested participants. Then he made the linkage.

“We’re going to arrange for like-minded people to be paired in this safe setting. A couple who is thrilled by the risk of being observed should pair with someone who wishes to be a voyeur. Those who seek multiple partners should find others of the same inclination. Each member of a couple is urged to fulfill the desire of the other. But if you don’t want to do it, let your partner experience it with someone else.”

“Your assignment is to find a partner and act out your sexual wish. We’ll end the class early today so you can link up and make arrangements. See you all tomorrow. I want to know all the details.”

We each had to confront how to handle our partner’s wish. Betty blanched at the idea that I’d have oral sex with someone else. As reticent as she was, she’d prefer that we do this ourselves, rather than give me permission to find another. I all but raced her to the dormitory room.

“In the name of science,” I smirked as I pulled her down to the bed.

“Don’t be a wiseass with me, wiseass,” she replied, but she didn’t stop me. I began with our normal foreplay, kissing her lips, her neck, stroking her breasts under her blouse. But then I began kissing her bare stomach, inching lower toward her groin. I loosened the zipper of her pants, and dragged them off her. I kissed her abdomen, then her sex through her panties. She knew what was coming and was tense and rigid. She wasn’t stopping me but she wasn’t willing. Doing it like this would almost be like a violation. I had to get her to relax. Then I remembered her fantasy.

“Let me get some body oil,” as I reached into the nightstand by the bed. “I assume you want a massage, young lady,” I began to role play.

“That would be nice,” she said, realizing what I was doing. “Do you have much experience as a masseur?”

“Oh yes,” I said. “I’ve done this many, many times with beautiful women like yourself. I’ve never had a complaint.”

“Good, you come highly recommended. I’m all yours.”

I slowly stripped off all her clothes, and had her lie on her stomach on the bed. I poured oil onto my hands, and rubbed them together to warm the lotion. I let it drip onto her bare skin, then slowly but firmly kneaded the muscles of the back. I rubbed up to the neck, then down the spine toward her middle. Back up the rib cage, up to the shoulders. She was relaxed and supple beneath my fingers. I moved past the small of the back, and massaged the buttocks, down the back of the legs, to the feet. I massaged the feet and headed up. I moved her legs apart to give me access to the inner thighs.

Betty was moaning softly. I massaged the buttocks again, and reached a finger between her legs, into the vagina. Slowly in, slowly out, catching the clitoris with each passage. She was purring now. I rolled her over onto her back. I began again, circling the breasts, rubbing the stomach, down to her sex. But now, instead of using my finger, I lowered my face. My tongue licked the lips of the vagina. I began to suck on the clitoris, lapping at it with my tongue.

Betty was in a trance, eyes closed, body arched, moaning. I could feel she was getting close to a climax, and her sounds aroused me even more than her naked body. I pressed my penis into her. She responded immediately, and we rhythmically rocked against each other. It wasn’t long before Betty’s fingers dug into my back. She voiced a deep throated cry as she climaxed, a release that was fuller than I’ve ever seen her experience. She slumped back onto the bed as I climaxed inside her.

“Will you give me a good review on Yelp,” I inquired.

She smiled. ‘Unfortunately, I can’t do that. You’re a secret I want to keep all for myself.”

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