Chapter 3

As if I had to tell you, I signed on with the Sexual Experience Exchange as a volunteer without a moment's hesitation. After my eye opening interview with Jason Evans, I was thoroughly convinced that the end result of the research-to be called The S.E.X. Report-would be the most liberating force for the American people since the American Revolution itself. Outfitted in the beginning with just the questionnaires for the male respondents, I set out to gather the information that was mandatory to compile if The S.E.X. Report was to be the force for good that all of us at The Exchange were certain it could be. Where normally the prospect of asking people such personal questions would have terrified me, my feeling was just the opposite when possessed with the knowledge of how much good I'd be doing assisting S.E.X. with its vital research.

Yes, I was ready to get to work, armed with real purpose for the first time since I could remember. Actually excited about life again.

Using a scientific method that was so simple it was profound, S.E.X. encouraged its volunteers to select their respondents through such ingenious techniques as picking them out of the phone book, or bumping into them in the supermarket and starting a conversation. The whole design was really quite brilliant.

The supermarket technique intrigued me the most, so I went to the Big Bargain outlet at the nearest shopping center and stationed myself in front of the lunch meat counter to wait for a likely candidate. After about ten minutes of pretending to make up my mind between pimento loaf and cooked salami, I spied a guy out of the corner of my eye who looked just perfect.

Timing his progress, I whirled around just in time to bump into him just as I had been instructed to do by the experts at S.E.X.

"Oh, excuse me," he said, obviously taken by surprise.

"That's all right," I purred back, rubbing my body against his to get his interest.

My body was like glue as it provocatively insinuated itself against his muscular form. Within seconds, he wasn't any more anxious to pull away than I was.

I suppose the fact I'd taken the precaution not to wear any underwear accounted for that.

"I'm Debbie," I cooed. "I'd like to ask you a few questions. Could we go someplace private?" "How about in the back of the store?" he said quickly.

"You mean in the alley?" "No... over there," he pointed toward a door marked "Employees Only." "But what about the people who work in the store?" "That's okay," he grinned. "I'm the manager." "The manager?" I blurted with surprise.

"Yes," he grinned again. "I was keeping an eye on you because I thought you were a shoplifter. I hope you'll forgive my suspicion, but we've got a very low profit margin in the supermarket business. We can't afford to give anything away," He was such a hunk, he was easy to forgive.

"All right, I'll overlook it if you'll answer my questions," I replied, taking his hand and leading him toward the "Employees Only" door.

Once inside, surprise was generated inside me all over again. I don't know what I'd expected... but it certainly wasn't a frozen food vault.

"We won't be disturbed here," he attempted to assuage my concern, and then dropped a latch from the inside on the freezer door. "I'm the only one with a key." "Well, I guess it's okay," I went along with him, and extracted the questionnaire from my purse.

"Say," he said, raising my eyebrows, "you really are going to ask me some questions, aren't you?" "What did you think I was going to do?" I answered coyly.

"Proposition me," he bluntly rejoined.

Before I'd volunteered for S.E.X. I would have been burning with embarrassment. However, the experts at The Exchange had prepared me for the eventuality of this kind of misunderstanding, so I just shrugged it off with a laugh.

"Come on," I said professionally, "let's get down to the question." "Wow," he shook his head as he sat down on a crate of veal cutlets, "I still can't get over the fact you're really legit." "Try me." "Okay, what's your first question?" "How long is your penis?" I fired away without blinking.

He turned white.

Then shocking pink.

Then bright red.

"W... what d... did you say?" he finally managed to gleep.

"How long is your penis?" "H... hard or... or soft?" "Hard, of course," I answered efficiently.

"E... eight inches," he stuttered.

"My," I smiled as I looked toward his suddenly bulging fly, "it certainly seems bigger than that." It took him a moment to catch on to my point of reference. When he finally did figure out where I was looking, his ability to speak coherently vanished and his mouth released a gurgling series of nonsensical stammers.

"Don't be embarrassed," I attempted to reassure him. "I've been trained to be at home with the realities of the male anatomy. Believe me, it doesn't fluster me in the slightest to know that I've inadvertently made your penis hard. I realize that you're a man in the prime of life, and that I'm an attractive woman. A certain amount of arousal is only natural." "I wish my wife was so understanding," he suddenly blurted.

"You're having trouble with your wife?" I departed from the questionnaire and asked understandingly.

"Yes... yes," he bleated, the words starting to run away with him now that he had regained his ability to articulate. "She can't understand why I want to have sex so often. I practically have to beg her to... to make love."

"A good-looking guy like you?" "Thanks," he said, hanging his head shyly, "but you didn't have to say that." "But it's true," I assured him. "If I were married to you, I don't think I could get enough, judging from the size of the bulge in your pants... Are you sure you're only eight inches?" "Well, actually, I've never really measured it with a ruler or anything." "Suppose you take it out of your trousers and let me be the judge," I suggested. "After all, I have the obligation to have the information I compile accurate." "Are you kidding?" "Do I look like I'm kidding?" I asked as I closed the distance. between us. "Here, if you're shy, I'll help you.

My hands dropped to his fly and pulled down his zipper before he could move. Pushing my fingers into the open slit, I fumbled past the barrier of his shorts and found the lump of pulsing flesh I was looking for. Before he knew it, I had his cock out in the open and was lightly caressing its elongated shaft.

"It certainly looks like more than eight inches to me," I commented as I drew the foreskin back and forth over the turgidly purple knob on the end. Then, feeling him tremble nervously in my grip, I added, "Don't be concerned. Anything we do is only in the interest of science." "Even having sex?" he uncontrollably gushed.

"If you think it will help you respond to my questions more easily, I'll certainly consider it," I improvised, terribly anxious to do good work. "If it will make you more comfortable, I'll be happy to remove my clothing." "Please... please do," he panted. "I'll bet you have a fantastic body." "You judge for yourself, Mr. Supermarket manager," I winked, and let go of his hard-on so I could begin stripping.

It was cold in the freezer, but by the time I was naked I wasn't feeling it. Something about my nudity made me tingle with warmth.

Especially when I saw the way the manager's eyes bugged out of his head when he saw what Nature had endowed me with.

"You're beautiful," he finally managed to gasp.

"You're not so bad yourself," I replied, gripping his throbbing dick again for emphasis. "I'd say you're at least ten inches. I think you've been underestimating yourself." "Do... do you really think so?" he asked anxiously.

"Definitely. You've got a very large prick," I buttered him up. "There must be something the matter with your wife. Any normal woman would jump at the change to try it." "Are... , are you a normal woman?" "You better believe it." "I know you're just here on business, but would you... would you let me fuck you?"