Amber's Research Study Ch. 01

Amber's Research Study

Author Note:

If you haven't read through previous Amber stories, or don't recall her job, Amber is a research scientist at a contract research organization (CRO). She designs and implements validation studies for client companies that may not have the capability to do their own or need an independent third party validation of their diagnostics or treatments.

Normally, the company only does client based work. But sometimes, if there are lag periods and they want to keep staff on hand, they'll allow limited individual research. They also use that to build expertise of staff. This is a story of Amber designing a validation study during a night of drinking that grew into a life of its own. I'll try to keep as much sciency stuff out of it, but that's kind of necessary sometimes.

Also, for those not familiar with the Amber stories. I'm Steve and Amber is my wife. We are now 28. A while back, we got into having her get racy pictures taken, including a set of pictures and video where she works. You don't need to have read those stories to read this. But you're welcome to!

**

Backyard BBQ

My rec basketball team had done relatively well during the regular season. However, we took it in the shorts in the post-season tournament, getting bounced in two games. Since that was the last game of the year, we invited the team and guests to an impromptu picnic at our house and backyard. We had recently moved to just at the base of the Appalachian Mountains, close to Amber's work and easy for me to get to the office once a week for our in-person meetings.

Initially, the event was kind of somber. But with food and alcohol, the conversations turned more positive about the regular season and the good and bad plays. Plus, there were some rumors about extra-curricular activities among some of the players, spouses and girlfriends, and other "fans" of the team. Most of the rumors were true.

One of the guys on the team, Slick (that's the name he went by and had on his jersey and I never learned his real name), announced that he had just signed on to sell supplements. Before she could say anything, I kicked Amber's leg under the table and shook my head to signal her not to just jump in and burst his dreams.

But that didn't prevent others from asking Slick questions and/or making fun of him. Hey, we all need jobs. And some supplements are valuable and others are snake oil.

Of course, being the young perverts we are, when Slick mentioned one of their largest selling supplements is a boner powder, the conversations took a serious drop into the gutter. Keith's wife Janice seemed exceptionally interested. To Keith's embarrassment.

"Like, really. What is this powder supposed to do?" Janice asked as she leaned forward. She put her hand on Keith's leg.

Slick got into full sales mode, hamming it up. "The reason it is such a big seller," he started, "is because it works! 10-20% increase in both length and... um, what's the term? Girth! That's the word!"

"Really?" Janice whispered. And Slick knew he had a sale as we all laughed.

The conversation continued to degrade as all the guys tried to brag about already being too big for most women. One of us, maybe me, said that a 10% increase in length would put me over a foot long. I don't know why everyone laughed and Amber patted my knee.

Keith kept trying to say funny things, making everyone laugh more. Janice moved to sit on his lap. She pressed her breasts against his face for a moment and then whispered into his ear, just loud enough for me to hear right next to them. "I didn't marry you for that. I married you for what you do with this." She put her finger into his mouth and onto his tongue.

With her finger still in his mouth, Keith commented, "maybe it will make my tongue bigger, too." But it came out more like, "mebbe ake I ung igga ooh."

Janice and I, being the only ones to hear the comment, burst out laughing, garnering some questioning looks from the group.

Laughing so hard, Janice pulled her finger from Keith's mouth, giving him the chance to look at Slick and say, "anything to make boobs bigger?"

There was a dramatic pause of silence. The guys in the group looked around at each other and all the girls. One wrong move could be catastrophic. The girls were also quiet. Waiting for Janice's lead.

Personally, I thought Janice was going to slap Keith. Also, there was no way I would ever mention the potential double standard of her joking about his dick size and being offended if he said something about her boobs.

But I was wrong. Instead, Janice slowly stood up off Keith's lap. She looked at him, then around at the other dozen or so of us in the group. Still in silence she looked back at her husband Keith and slowly, slowly, lifted her shirt up and over her head, dropping it to the ground beside her.

Keith went bug eyed. I assume I did too, seeing Janice's boobs for the first and hopefully not the last time. She's not stacked like Amber, but certainly a very fine pair. And her nipples pointed out.

Janice held her hands and did a slow 360-degree turn, giving everyone a good view. She asked, "anyone else think I need bigger tits?"

Most of us guys were gently shaking our heads no, not wanting to get in trouble like Keith. Most of us guys. But not Colin. Holding a beer in one hand, he offered, "I could use a closer look to be sure."

The crowd erupted in laughter and the end of the tension. Janice dropped her arms and immediately raced the few steps over to Colin, placing her breasts just inches from his face. With her back to me I couldn't see clearly, but it sure looked like she even pressed them against his face.

Over everyone's ongoing laughter, I could've sworn I heard Janice gasp as Colin held her waist.

A few moments later, Janice backed away from Colin and returned to Keith. Sitting on his lap and cuddling against him. She hadn't bothered to put her shirt back on but she did ask one of the guys to get her a fresh beer.

Other than people whispering to each other, the group was very quiet. As host, I didn't want things to go south for too long. I had an idea to get it back on track. An idea that would turn out to be one of the classic blunders of all time. Along the lines of getting involved in a land war in Asia or going in against a Sicilian when death is on the line.

I said, "back to the boner powder. You know Amber is a clinical researcher and could design a study to see if that stuff works."

Well, if you've read past Amber stories, and you're reading this, you're more than likely a perv like the rest of us and can imagine where this is headed.

Everyone looked at wide-eyed Amber. She had been unusually quiet tonight, focused on being a good host for a last minute backyard gathering. But then Amber got a truly evil glint in her eye.

"Oh, shit yes! I know exactly how this study can go," she started. She actually stood up and began pacing back and forth, not looking at anyone in particular. She started describing a study of before and after, blind and double blind experiments, and even research funding. I've seen this before so it didn't surprise me. But the science stuff went over most people's heads.

I saw furtive glances between some people, and a couple got up to get another beer. That's when Colin jumped in again.

"I think Janice set the standard that if you're going to be up in front of the group you have to take off your shirt."

It took Amber several more steps and finishing a sentence about calipers when she paused and looked up. "What?" she asked.

Colin didn't hesitate. "Your shirt. Janice's rule is that if you're up in front of the group, your shirt needs to be off."

Amber looked at Janice, still topless on Keith's lap. Suddenly, Amber's shirt and sports bra hit the ground. And there was my wife, topless, in front of almost all of my basketball team and their wives, girlfriends, and friends.

Now, two of the six women in the group were topless. The guys were silent, except for Colin who whooped and hollered. I think he was hoping Amber would press her boobs into his face like Janice had. Instead, Amber went back to designing the study, pacing back and forth in front of us. Topless.

**

The Study

That was Tuesday. By Wednesday afternoon, Amber presented her draft study design to her boss. She claims she wore a top for the presentation but just smiled when I wanted to verify if she wore a bottom. You just never know with her.

Anyway, by Thursday afternoon she got feedback from her boss and the company. They approved her project with a couple of slight modifications Amber said were about potential sales opportunities in the future. Amber was so excited about the study she was bouncing off the walls. I normally like watching her bounce. Because it makes her boobs bounce. And I like that. A lot.

The company liked the idea a lot, she told me, because it would be really cheap to do, needing only a dozen volunteers that they might not even need to pay. All the equipment and resources were already on hand at the lab. She said they also liked her initiative to come up with the idea as it offers professional development and business development. Even if the powder is useless, the whole intent is to design and complete the study and analyze the results.

But I didn't really like what the "study" would involve and require Amber to do. Or feel.

I'm doing my best to translate science talk here. For the study, there will be 12 participants. Six will get the powder and six will get a placebo. We used to call them sugar pills but apparently there is no longer sugar in them.

For this study, Amber will know who gets which dose but the participants won't know. There will be a weekly "evaluation" where the guys come in, take a dose, wait the appropriate time, and get measured. There will also be a lot of surveys they'll need to fill out while waiting for the drug to take effect.

I think you can tell I'm beating around the bush here. Because the study requires Amber to scientifically measure a dozen guys' hard cocks. Once a week for 9 weeks. I can't get out of my head that a dozen guys will go into her office, close the door, strip down, get as hard as possible, and have Amber measure all parts of them.

"It's just science, Steve," Amber has said multiple times while rolling her eyes. "Just like being at the doctor.

"I've never had a doctor appointment where someone helps me get hard and then measures me," I responded.

Amber gave me a sweet smile. "Really? That's too bad. I always thought that was part of your physical exams." I swatted her ass.

She paused and then gave me her evil look.

"What now?" I asked, worried I would learn.

"Nothing! Nothing. Just thought of something," Amber got out as she ran to her work bag to jot down a note.

The next evening, after getting ready for bed, I left the bathroom and found Amber dressed in her lab garb. Well, maybe not lab garb. As far as I could tell, all she was wearing was her white lab coat.

On the bed was a large towel with a whole bunch of implements. Not sexy fun implements. Metal things. With grips and curves and handles. She noticed me looking at the tools on the bed.

"Good afternoon, Participant 69. I see you've completed your surveys and forms. Are you ready for your inspection?" lab Amber asked. She was turned sideways looking at a notepad, which opened up the lab coat so I could see most of her left boob.

"Uh. Inspection?"

Lab Amber looked at me seriously. "They explained what is involved in the study I thought."

"Well, kind of," I offered sheepishly.

She sighed. "Have you read the study materials?" She gave me an impatient look.

"Um..." I started to understand and play along. "I just scanned them. I've done these before. Just answer questions, take a pill, maybe run on a treadmill. Hopefully not grow a third ear or something. Right?"

She sighed again. "More or less. I really do think you should read the materials. But today is just the entrance exam. Essentially, we need to get some base measurements today, so when we do the study, that hopefully doesn't grow you a new ear, we'll be able to quantify any changes."

"Oh. Of course. That's easy. Like the other ones. I don't really need to do anything other than take the pills and report anything."

She nodded at me. "Don't forget about the examinations. We'll be testing you each week, an hour after you finish your forms and take your dose."

"Gotcha. But they already weighed me and took my blood pressure and everything. And counted my ears I assume."

"That's what they'll do each week out in the lab. In here, we'll do measurements and evaluation. Now, please remove your clothes and lay down on your back on the exam table."

I stripped down to my underwear like at the doctor and lay on the bed, which served as the exam table for this fantasy.

"Amber turned to me and sighed, yet again. "Everything. I really wish you would have read about the study."

"Sorry," I said as I pulled my underwear off, leaving me completely naked.

Amber proceeded to measure every part of me, from my toes to the distance from the top of my ear to my scalp. She had different measurement tools for many of the angles and curves. She never announced any numbers, just jotted them down.

She had done basic measurements around my crotch, but mostly distance from the base of my cock to my belly button. Or distance from knee to my balls.

After lots of measuring and jotting notes, she looked up from the pad. "Ok Participant 69. This is where your participation starts." Amber wrapped her hand around my cock that was still mostly flaccid.

"Is this normally this soft when you're with a woman?" she asked.

"Soft? Um. No. I'm just a little nervous I guess."

"Hmm. Should we bring in a male intern? Would that help?"

"Male? What? What is going on?" I pleaded.

Amber, still gripping my shaft that was now starting to grow, commented, "the intent of this study is to see if the drug we will give you will have an impact on your penis and performance. Again. You should have read about this. You signed the form that you understood this," she chided.

I let my eyes widen in shock, playing the part. And then I acted like I knew what was happening. "Oh, yes. Of course. Now I remember."

"Sure you do," Amber said. "You said on your form that you don't have trouble getting an erection. Is this your normal size? Before we measure your Bone Pressed Erect Length, or BPEL, we need to ensure maximum arousal." She continued to grip and pull on my cock, that was starting to twinge more. Her hand motion opened her lab coat further, displaying a full breast.

I looked away from her breast and at my growing cock in her hand. "Not yet," I said. "It usually gets bigger. But I'm nervous. Maybe if you use your mouth," I trailed off as she gave me a serious look.

"That's not what we're here for, Participant 69. This is the baseline measurement we need to accurately determine if the drug has an impact and how much." Amber continued stroking me. That's when I imagined her doing this "study" on a dozen guys. Every week for nine weeks.

It made my stomach churn, but The Traitor decided he needed to stand at attention.

Lab Amber smiled. "Oh, my. I was afraid we were going to have an issue with your participation in the study." She kept stroking me, alternating between looking at me and at The Traitor.

Oh -- quick note if you haven't read the other stories -- we named my penis "The Traitor" because I would tell Amber to have boundaries but my cock would demonstrate his excitement despite what I was saying. And Amber took the actions of my cock far more seriously than anything I said.

I was starting to feel a head rush and the early stages of getting close to the ledge. Amber noticed that while also commenting on the pre-cum that started emerging.

"How about now? Is this about normal for you? Remember, we have to be at maximum arousal."

"Huh? What?" I didn't want her to stop. I looked down and saw it about normal for me, so I nodded.

Lab Amber smiled and removed her hand. She grabbed two measuring instruments and started lining them up along my cock, either lengthwise or circular. From the base to the head. All the while she jotted into the notebook.

If she noticed The Traitor sagging, she would resume stroking and pulling on him to get him back. While this was all clinical in nature, it was still hot as fuck, pretending to be a study participant and having her jack me off and measure me. While she wore only a lab coat.

Eventually, she dropped the measuring equipment. Lab Amber had me roll on my side as she stroked and yanked. She noticed my breathing change and moved one hand faster while grabbing something with her other hand. My eyes rolled back in my head and I stopped breathing for a moment.

"Here we go," Lab Amber whispered. I was focused entirely on watching Amber's hand rubbing up and down my hard cock.

I was way too far gone to know where things would fly as my orgasm shook me. I could hear the first two squirts shooting out as Lab Amber continued milking me. Even mostly spent, she kept pulling. I looked down and she had captured everything into a sample cup. Except a little that dribbled on her hand.

I tried to slow my breathing. Normally, we cuddle a little after playing some fantasy. Instead, Amber stood up and took her notepad and sample cup over to the desk by her work bag.

Once I caught my breath, the "post nut clarity" hit and I realized this might not be fantasy. Was Amber practicing on me what she was planning to do with a dozen guys every week for 9 weeks?

My brain filled my vision with her measuring and yanking and stroking a steady stream of guys, cooing at them to get them to what she called "maximum arousal."

"You just came. Are you getting hard again?" Amber asked in a surprised voice. I looked down and, indeed, thinking about her doing this with other study participants had done something seemingly impossible.

"Fucking traitor," I mumbled as Amber smiled.

Yes, my fellow pervs. I made sure to return the favor, getting her off with some oral ministrations.

**

Amber still had her pickleball group once a week and came home horny as fuck those nights. However, after work on Mondays when she did the "exams" each week was a whole new level of horniness.

Each week when she got home, she would strip down to Lab Amber attire and give me a pill to take. She would then tease and arouse me to the point where she took measurements. Sometimes, after hitting "maximum arousal," she would demonstrate the lab coat was all she wore. She would straddle me and ease herself onto my cock and ride me while screaming in long-dead languages.

It only took a few weeks to realize I was unofficially one of the study subjects and that my measurements could be in her report, even if my name might not be. Also, for the entire time, I told myself that she wore regular clothes under her labcoat when she was measuring other study members. And that she wasn't jerking them off into cups. And she wasn't cuddling with them afterwards.

Whenever I would ask her about that, she would just laugh and tap my nose. I could never tell what that meant.

Finally, the study was over and Amber gave me a final examination. This included all the measurements she took on that first night. The ones that seemed innocuous, but are part of baseline studies.

Also, during those weeks, I got so paranoid whenever I would see Amber talking with friends, coworkers, my basketball team guys, and any others, as I wondered if they had been recruited by Amber into the study. Especially if they were out of earshot but laughing about something.

Were some of them study participants? Since this was an initial evaluation, there hadn't been a rigorous selection process. She wouldn't tell me how participants applied and were selected. Did we know any of them? Were they the guys laughing with Amber when I couldn't hear what they were laughing about?

Just as I was known as Participant 69, Amber told me that all the participants also only had a number instead of a name.

Every once in a while, The Traitor would inject into my brain the thought that sometimes Amber would collect the samples in her mouth. Or that she would drop her pussy on them to feel their length and girth from the inside. Even worse, The Traitor would tell me that I knew many of the guys in the study and that she was sucking and fucking all of them.

And my brain would tell me that The Traitor was being a dick (literally) and not to listen to him. Amber just laughed when I brought up my fears. Then she would ask me what I wanted to be the truth.

Again, my brain told me this was an anonymous study, that we didn't know any of the participants, that she just measured them, and nothing else.

I loved being part of the experiment and hated it at the same time, even if I might not be a true participant. And I wondered what I would be feeling if Amber didn't act out the evaluation on me. Was she really yanking on their cocks and helping them get hard? Was that just a way to tease me for sex play?

While this was making me crazy, Amber seemed as happy as I've ever known her. She seemed to have found a real purpose in her work. Normally, she was just running samples and analyzing data for drugs for random things. But now she was designing a study and implementing the process.

**

Sample Study Results and Presentation

Once the sample study concluded, it didn't take Amber long to put together the report for her company. She'd been tracking and analyzing the data the whole time, so the only thing left clinically was for her to add the final evaluation and compare results between participants taking the real drug or the placebo.

She wouldn't even tell me the results until she presented them to the company. One night she came home late from work a little depressed. She gave her draft report to her boss for first review and they ended up working on it a lot longer than expected. She admitted that her boss made the report better, and that he has more experience on these, but she felt the report became too clinical and robotic.

With the changes made, they put her on the calendar to present the report to some team leads and section heads on Friday morning.

I started getting text messages just before lunch.

Amber: OMFG! They moved the presentation to the auditorium! There were at least 100 people there. Some even flew in from corporate!

Me: Holy shit! Did you know they were going to do that? How did it go?

Amber: No -- I had no idea corporate was so interested. Monty must have shared the draft or something.

Monty is Amber's boss.

Amber: I was so nervous on the stage. My hands were shaking so bad I could barely change slides. People were asking so many questions that Monty had to cut them off and let me finish the presentation first.

Me: Wow! Most presentations I go to are snoozers and nobody wants to ask questions.

Amber: I know! I've seen you practice your presentations. (winky face)

Me: Party foul (waving yellow flag)

Amber: I've got to go. They're taking me to lunch to talk about the study and making it bigger! Get it? BIGGER

I didn't hear from her again until she pulled into the driveway as I was trying to wash the squashed bugs off the front of my car. So. Many. Bugs.

She barely let the car stop before she hopped out and ran at me for a big hug with a huge smile on her face.

When we finally released each other, I asked, "do I know you?"

"Oh you silly," she replied. "I just hope Steve can't see us together through his office window. He gets so weird about the guys I fuck."

Amber went back to her car to get her things. I noticed something in the bright sunlight that I hadn't noticed about her outfit this morning. Her white dress shirt was nearly transparent. From the back, I could clearly see her bra strap. I'd seen her even in the bright light of the bathroom and only saw a hint of bra outline.

When she turned to walk toward me, the front was even more dramatic. The bright sunlight showed everything. I could see her belly button and even the flower texture shapes on her demi-cup bra. Her breasts moved with each step. I thought I could see a hint of areola peeking over the top of a cup.

"Is that what you wore for your presentation?"

She gazed down and then back at me with a puzzled look. "This is my best business shirt." I realized that maybe she couldn't see it from above.

To make sure I wasn't crazy, I pulled out my phone and asked to take a picture of my wife, home from her big presentation. She posed and smiled prettily as I snapped a few to look at later.

If the lights in the auditorium were as bright as the sunlight, everyone would have seen this view during her presentation.

We went inside as she babbled about the presentation and the questions and that they even wanted to make the full study so much more than she imagined. Her boss told her to press to be Principal Investigator for the study and he'd back her up.

I couldn't be prouder and watching her be so happy makes my heart sing.

When she took a breath to use the bathroom and change clothes, I took out my phone to check the pictures I just took. Sure enough, the camera captured everything like it was completely sheer. Zooming in, I even confirmed that a third of her areola could be seen. But when we came inside, it was just a white shirt.

I decided not to tell her for fear of diminishing her wonderful day.

"So where are you taking me to celebrate tonight?" I heard from the bedroom.

"Ooh. I've got a coupon for McDonalds that's about to expire," I yelled back.

I didn't even get a laugh from her. Instead, a few minutes later she came back into the living room. "Well, while you're using a coupon at McDonald's, I'll be at the bar getting everything free," she said.

She was wearing a micro skirt and a cut-off tank top that showed both underboob and sideboob. It is one of my favorite outfits but we'd never had her go out in public with it.

"You're going to need a security detail if you go out in that thing."

"Mmm. Maybe I can get the bouncer at the bar to frisk me for dangerous weapons," she hummed.

**

The Car Ride

An hour later we were on our way to a local bar that has bands play on Fridays. I hadn't been able to talk her into wearing something different. Friends and maybe neighbors will be there, since there weren't too many night options nearby. But she told me she was celebrating.

Even driving down the bumpy gravel road, I could see the sides of her boobs bouncing and swaying. The crop top would rise higher, showing more underboob, then drop back down.

Trying to distract myself from the sexy vision to my side, so I wouldn't run off the road, I asked her to tell me more about the presentation and the lunch and everything.

We took her car for the evening and Amber actually had a copy of her presentation. She started flipping through the pages and describing that the results actually did show some improvement. And that's why the executives came in town to see and ask questions.

"Really. The boner powder actually worked?" I always thought those things were bogus.

"Yeah. And the weird thing was that even the control group had some improvement in size and girth."

"That's odd."

"It really is. Another good reason to do a larger study and follow up on the surveys, not just the sizes."

As she was flipping through the report and slides, I noticed out of the corner of my eye that she skipped over the data collection process. There were several slides titled Standard Operating Procedures that she flashed by.

"What were those earlier slides you skipped over?" I asked.

"Oh, those? They were just the boring data analytics and other processes I used in the study design," she answered.

That seemed odd. Before I could follow up, she changed the subject in a way that might have been worse.

"So. Now that the study is over, there are some things you should know." She gave me a sheepish look that I noticed even though her left boob had fallen out the side of her top.

"Um. Ok." My stomach churned with what could possibly make her nervous.

She took a breath. "Well, it's possible we know some of the pilot study participants." I jerked my head over to her and almost ran off the road.

"What? Who?" This was one of the many fears I had about this study. Too many times I pictured Amber doing an "examination" or "data collection" with just about every guy I saw her talking to. Especially if she seemed to be flirting with them. And she flirts a lot.

She bit at her finger. "Remember, I'm not supposed to tell anyone outside the company anything about this. Even you. But I think you should know."

I tried to mentally prepare myself for something terrible. Like that she'd been spending every Monday yanking off her coworkers at the office. And then working with them casually the rest of the week. Maybe doing other practice sessions at other times too.

I had to shake my head again to get that thought out. "Why am I nervous right now?" I asked her.

"Please don't be mad," she started. "I had to recruit test subjects quickly. Some of the subjects are coworkers. And..." She kind of trailed off.

"And? And? Don't tell me you recruited pickleball guys."

"Um. Yes. Guys from pickleball."

"Amber! What the hell?"

"I know, I know. We're not supposed to use people we know as test subjects."

"What? That.. that's not the issue!" I could feel my face getting warm. She thought the issue I had was bad study design? "You've been. You know..." I couldn't find words and only made a masturbation gesture. ".. to guys you know? Every week?"

I imagined the sign-up sheet at her work for guys to get naked with Amber so she could "measure" them. There'd even be an image of her naked and stroking a cock as part of the recruitment.

"Next you're going to tell me you recruited my friends too." I imagined how that recruitment would have gone. Maybe doing naked tryouts with my friends. You know, for science.

"Um..." Amber looked down at her lap.

"What?!? Who?"

I was more mad than I realized. Even though I had imagined her test subjects might be people I knew, I really believed that was just her teasing me and making me crazy. And I was mad at myself as I drove, since The Traitor seemed eager to learn about all the gory details.

We still had 15 minutes before arriving at the bar for dinner. I considered turning the car around. This no longer seemed like a celebration. It was quiet for a minute or two and I took some breaths to calm down.

Eventually, my heart rate reduced. "I need to know," I said, trying not to sound angry.

Amber nodded and started telling me about the test subjects.

The first two she mentioned were her labmates. Labmates! She works with them every day! These two were fairly new hires and she didn't think I had met them. But still. Could you imagine if one of your first jobs out of college involved having a hot coworker strip you naked and measure you? From their perspective, that had to be a no-brainer. Now imagine you're the hot coworker's husband.

The next two were executives at the company who she also works with regularly, if not every day. They had heard somehow about the study and went to Amber to "volunteer" their services. My stomach lurched when I learned that one of them was "Mr. Smith," the guy who wore the POV camera during the shower scene in Amber's Racy Photos Chapter 6.

In that video, he had played a role as part of the product and sales team trying to share results from a study Amber had run for a client. The client moved the video meeting up, catching Amber just back from a run and all sweaty and not presentable for video. So, they did the meeting while she showered and she explained the results, thinking she was off camera. Instead, she was on camera the whole time.

For the story line, that was an accident but it had all been planned out. The POV moved from the shower to the changing room bench, where Amber was laid out and Mr. Smith's POV getting close ups of her spread pussy while he ate her out. And then stood her up and turned her around so he could fuck her from behind while she blew the other sales guy.

It looked very realistic that the POV guy was fucking her. But she told me that was just video processing and that he hadn't been. She admitted though, that every once in a while he would "accidentally" slide in for a while until she pushed him back out. The end result of the video had her laying on the bench again as Mr. Smith's POV came all over her pussy and the other guy came all over her face. They had also done 3-4 practice runs to get the scene right.

That scene was done in their building. Now, for weeks, Amber had been "measuring" a guy who had numerous times slipped inside her pussy and cum all over her.

She continued explaining about the test subjects. Two more of the subjects she recruited from her pickleball group. Again, these are guys that she plays pickleball with just about every week. And they flirt mercilessly while she and the other girls wear nearly nothing. And sometimes completely nothing when they go to someone's house for food and drink after playing.

Things got really out of hand one time when I showed up one afternoon.

And then the banger. Amber sheepishly admitted that two of the guys in the study were on my basketball team. Colin and Keith. I mentioned them before at the BBQ where this whole stupid idea came up.

We'd hung out with them several times over the last few months. And each Monday, they had been in Amber's office getting "maximum arousal" from Amber for science. Supposedly. I felt like a fool. I'd even bought them beers. How about that, buying and handing beers to guys and not knowing that your wife has been stroking them and probably helping get them off.

Fuck me.

The final four guys in the study she didn't know, recruited by her boss.

So, it turned out many of my fears were confirmed. Not all, fortunately. Like, my fear that she had collected semen samples in her mouth and spit them into the container. Amber laughed at me and told me that didn't happen. Not because she wouldn't, but because it would contaminate the sample.

But my fear about the study involving people we knew was very true. Keith and Colin from basketball were in the study. Two guys from Amber's pickleball group were included. Four guys from her work and four more guys she didn't know. But she does now, obviously.

My head spun with the confirmation. For nine weeks, Amber had been "measuring" Keith's and Colin's cocks. And sometimes collecting semen samples. These are guys I played basketball with once or twice a week during season. And we sometimes have group barbecues together.

Plus her coworkers? Under the guise of a scientific study, she'd been yanking the cocks of four of her coworkers.

Fuck. How does this happen?

And goddammit, why am I hard?

I asked again how she dressed and what she did during the inspections and she mostly smiled, dreamily. She only offered, "I did what I had to do to collect the data."

Stupidly, I did the math. Twelve guys, nine "inspections" each, every Monday for 9 weeks. That's 108 times she would have been looking at, measuring, and yanking guys' hard cocks.

"I feel so much better getting that off my chest and out in the open," Amber said as if that was the only issue.

I looked at her, not knowing what to say at all.

She took that pause as an opportunity to move back to her presentation. She babbled about how everyone was excited about the data tables and outcomes she described from the sample study. Even after she was done, she was surrounded by guys asking her questions. Monty helped with some items, but Amber did the whole study and was best at answering.

I thought about all those corporate types getting close to Amber to see her sheer shirt.

Then, some bigwigs invited her to lunch at an outdoor courtyard restaurant nearby. Again, corporate guys, sunlight, sheer top. I lost track of what she was saying as I imagined what that looked like. Her sitting with guys in suits at a professional lunch with most of her tits showing.

I came back to reality when I heard the words "promotion" and "raise."

"What?" I asked in surprise. I looked over at her in the seat next to me and saw that most of her left nipple was showing through the arm hole of her shirt.

"Yeah. If the project gets fully funded, they'll make me the PI like Monty promised!"

I gave her a high five. Which popped her boob right out. We had arrived at the bar and I decided it was too late to back out of the celebration, especially if it was about a possible promotion. Everything had already happened and I would have to get over my issues. Thankfully, the study was done and a larger study would involve more people and controls and not test subjects I know.

I was about to open the car door when I remembered something. "Wait. What was on those pages you flipped by earlier?" I asked.

She smiled and looked at me. "Are you sure you want to know?"

"I think we're way past holding anything back."

I turned on the dome light and she flipped through the pages of her presentation. "To make sure they knew it was as valid as possible for a small pilot study, I had to go over the standard procedures for collecting data."

She showed me a picture of the measuring items used to measure the "Bone-Pressed Erect Length." And another to measure the circumference and diameter to get girth measurements.

She flipped a few slide pages over and sheepishly showed one where a hand, her hand, was holding onto a large erect cock while the other hand held a caliper at the head to measure diameter. Some pre-cum could be seen at the tip.

Another showed her hands holding a string, one hand at the top of the base of the shaft and the other at the tip. Both photos were from above, implying that the photographer was also the subject.

"See, clinical," she said, leaving in view the picture of her measuring a cock.

It wasn't the first time I'd seen pictures of her holding other guys' cocks. And probably wouldn't be the last time. Again, terrified my brain and stimulated The Traitor.

**

The Bar Celebration

The doorman at the bar, and by doorman, just the large guy who checks IDs to keep kids out, was even more happy than normal to see Amber. She ran up to him for a big hug and he lifted her in the air. Doing so made her micro skirt climb even higher, exposing almost all of her ass as he spun her around.

"We're celebrating!" she shouted in his ear. That type of thing would become a pattern for the evening.

By the time we finished our dinners, there were more free drinks at the table than we could drink in days. And Amber was right, not only had guys bought all those drinks for her (and I would have a few), but someone even covered our dinners.

Of course, all the guys who bought things for her (us) asked her to dance at least once while the band played.

I felt Amber's foot rub on my hard cock under the table. She had a glint in her eye. I was about to say I was happy that as Principal Investigator (PI), she would be handing off the grunt work to team members. But at that point another drink donor asked her to dance.

Without hesitation, she jumped from her seat, nearly exposing her boobs in the process, and walked with him to the dance floor. I sipped my drink and couldn't stop watching the train wreck that is my wife dancing with other guys.

This most recent guy took every opportunity he could to feel Amber's side boobs. Spinning her around several times lifted her arms over her head, also lifting her crop top so that it was regularly nearly to her neck before she would laugh and adjust it back.

As the song was ending, he reached down and lifted her in the air while spinning. This motion lifted her micro skirt up to her waist, showing off her nearly naked ass, with only a g-string covering, well, nothing.

She again just laughed and batted at his shoulder before bothering to pull her skirt back in place and then staggering back to our table. She sat on my lap and immediately noticed I was hard, taking that as approval.

Amber put my hand on her side. It would have been impossible to not touch her boob even if I wanted to. She leaned in and whispered in my ear, "he begged me to take off my panties, but I said I had to ask you."

As I was telling her that wasn't a good idea, especially with the micro skirt, she was already pulling them down her legs and off her feet. She put them on the table right in front of me and started nuzzling my ear. Anyone sitting to our right, where Amber's legs were pointing, would easily see her naked pussy.

I'd had my fill of being out. Plus, I had a nearly naked Amber wiggling on my lap, telling me about all the things she was going to have me do to her tonight. I was about to say, "we should probably get going, then, so I can do my civic duty to you." I started to lean forward to get her off my lap so we could go.

I didn't get to say anything because a large group came into the bar, including some that made my heart stop. Colin and Keith and Janice and a batch of other people. Some from my basketball team and others not. Janice was the first to see us and smiled and waved and raced toward us.

"What the fuck? I whispered to Amber.

"I texted Janice to let her know where we were eating. I guess they all thought they'd join us," she said.

"Does she know about the study and Keith and.. you know."

"I don't know. Everyone signs an agreement saying they won't divulge anything. I don't know if Keith told her." Amber bit her lip when she said that.

By then Janice arrived and Amber jumped up to give her a big hug. Pulling away, Janice looked at Amber's outfit and whistled. "You're such a slut," she said with a laugh. "What's the occasion? The Navy in town?"

"Look who's talking, slut." Amber pointed at her low-cut shirt and push up bra peeking out.

Janice laughed and started to comment about all the drinks at the table. She stopped mid-sentence. "Whose panties are those? Slut."

"Oopsie. They just fell off and I haven't had a chance to put them back on," Amber smiled. She picked them up and handed them to me to put in my pocket. The rest of the group, seven in total, arrived from the bar with some pitchers of beer. The guys also looked confused at the accumulated drinks already there.

"What the..." Colin said, then looked at Amber. "Oh. Now I understand."

Amber smiled and said nothing. I didn't know what to say, considering I now knew that Amber had multiple times held his cock to help him get maximum arousal.

We all talked for a while. I lost track of things sometimes, realizing that Amber had spent every Monday stretching out Keith's and Colin's cocks. It was very distracting. And exhilarating. We couldn't talk about it because nobody knew who already knew.

When Colin asked Amber to dance, I started to object. But she gave me a serious look and took his hand. There were enough people on the dance floor that I could only catch glimpses of them while also trying to track the conversation in our group.

They were very closely dancing and talking. I assume they were talking about the study. My stupid brain threw out the idea that he was talking her into an extracurricular measurement session. He was sure things were bigger today. She looked down at his pants.

A few minutes later they were back from the dance floor. The underarm gaps on her top pulled far to the center, leaving almost all of the sides of her boobs visible and swaying.

"I thought you were going to stop him," she whispered in my ear.

"Stop him from what?" I had only seen them dancing and talking.

"You know... But I'm glad you're ok with it. Thank you for making this celebration so much fun!"

I had no idea what she was talking about, so took the compliment and carried on.

After two more guys from our group danced with Amber, she came back sweating from the exertion. Her crop top barely covered her boobs each time she came back. Sometimes not even covering them.

Janice asked me to dance so she and I went out for a song. I struggled to dance, as her low-cut shirt and bouncing boobs kept distracting me. And every time we got close, she could tell I had a raging hardon. She would smile each time and then hold me closer for a moment.

We headed back to the group and Amber was no longer there. I asked around and nobody knew where she had gone to. I figured she was in the restroom so hung out for a while and chatted. I tried to avoid Colin and Keith, not knowing how to act now.

I'm not sure how long Amber had been gone. I was getting worried something happened, like at the bar after her day of hiking. So I walked around the bar and dance area. I eventually found Amber with a group of about 6 men. Guys that looked out of place. Wearing dress pants and shirts and most of them older than the rest of the people at the bar on a Friday night.

She looked like she was in a heavy conversation. Not dangerous. But more serious than she is with our friend group. As I approached she noticed me and got a big smile and waved me over. Waving made her boob sway and a nipple pop out momentarily. At least two of the guys noticed and smiled. I always feel slightly better that when she seems to be flirting she's happy to see me rather than embarrassed.

"Stevie!" she called out as I approached. "There you are!" Her words were slightly slurred.

I think she recognized my puzzled look.

"Oh! My work people showed up! Only bar near their hotel." She explained that they had gone to dinner elsewhere with other team leads and this group decided not to end Friday night early. This was the only bar nearby.

She introduced me, sharing names that I couldn't keep in my head. These were some high-level executives, I learned. Some of them had flown in to see Amber's presentation today and had gone to lunch with her.

I thought back to her dress shirt that turned sheer in bright light.

Amber explained that before I got there, they had been talking about the study and the direction they would like to take for the next phase. One of the guys had already talked to a colleague at the NIH to look into funding. She let me know she admitted she had shared some details of the study with me.

I talked to a few of them on my own as the others surrounded Amber. They told me how impressed they had been with the study design and the initial results. Most times, when someone does a side project like this, it turns into a dud. But Amber's had shown interesting data that would be worth further review.

I told them I was very proud of her. I looked over and saw her posing for a picture with one of the execs. He had his hand around her side, clearly touching her breast.

She and the exec came back to talk with me. They were both clearly buzzing. "I've only met Amber twice now. But I love her fashion style," the exec yelled over the music. "Most scientists I work with are old, stodgy guys, with foreign accents I can't follow."

We looked at Amber and she gave a slow spin. I noticed, and I'm sure others noticed, that her skirt had risen about halfway up.

Two of the other execs chimed in about Amber's "fashion style" being so great. I figured that if an exec saw her dressed like that at a bar, they'd call HR. Instead, they were fawning all over her, making her smile even more.

She whispered into my ear and nodded at two of the guys, indicating that they were part of the study too. My stomach churned. These senior execs had been handled by Amber for the last nine weeks? And now, everyone is out drinking together and Amber is barely dressed herself?

I remember what Amber had revealed to me in the car earlier and looked closer at one of them and froze. "Fuck me. Mr. Smith?" I thought I said that in my head. Apparently, I said it out loud and Amber nodded. Mr. Smith was the POV guy in the shower scene video I described earlier. A guy who had eaten out Amber's pussy multiple times, pretended to fuck her multiple times, and had "accidentally" slipped his cock inside her. Would I have to shake his hand and talk to him?

And now, even though I told it not to, my brain overrode my wishes and gave me a vision of each of the execs naked, with Amber only wearing her lab coat as she jerked them off. "Maybe if you take your lab coat off," one of them said. "Then it will get bigger."

In my vision, Amber shrugged and removed her lab coat, leaving her naked and stroking their cocks. They each began mauling her breasts and then maneuvering her to a chair where she sat with her mouth at cock height. She looked up at them and smiled. "For science, right? That's all this is."

They both nodded vigorously as she alternated sucking on each of them.

"What do you think about Amber being PI for a large study? Pretty big promotion," I heard one of the execs say. I came back to reality.

"Uh. Yeah," was all I could think to say. While my brain forced that visualization on me, she had gone to the dance floor with one of them. One of the ones she indicated had been in the study.

The exec talking to me continued. He pulled out his phone. "I took some pictures of her presentation today. I think you'll like them. Give me your number and I'll text them to you." It seemed innocuous enough, so I gave him my number. I was trying to keep an eye on Amber, dancing slowly with one of the study subjects.

The exec with the pictures regained my attention as my phone buzzed in my pocket with text notifications. He held his phone in front of us to give me some highlights. The first was a picture that was clearly at the start of the presentation. Amber looked nervous on the stage with the slides projected next to her.

He scrolled a few and got to a close up. Amber looked much more comfortable. And in close up, it was clear that the lights were indeed strong and her dress shirt was sheer. Just as clear was that her demi cup bra had slipped down and almost all of her nipples were completely visible. I could smell the alcohol on the breath of the exec as he zoomed in further.

He flipped to a couple more like that and then showed one that made me gasp. Amber stood on the stage talking into the microphone. The picture also showed the slide. It must have been one of the ones she skipped over. The slide was titled, "Standard Operating Procedure to Achieve Maximum Arousal."

On the slide were six explicit pictures of Amber demonstrating the steps to "Achieve Maximum Arousal" with a test subject. "Preparation → Positioning → Stimulation → Measurement → Sample Collection.

And by explicit, I mean explicit. There was no doubt it was Amber and that she was jacking off a hard cock. And the angles and genitals weren't always the same. So she had done photo shoots multiple times with multiple guys. There was even a link at the bottom in case someone with access wanted to see more detail of each step in the process.

He left that on his phone longer than I would have liked, before flipping to the next one showing Amber and a group at lunch at an outdoor café. There was as much an array of different mixed drinks on the table as food. And that didn't include the glasses in hands as the picture showed them in a cheers pose.

The next showed Amber in between two execs as they smiled at the camera. My new buddy slurred his words and complimented Amber's "fashion sense" again. The sunlight still made her dress shirt sheer. And now her bra cups had dipped even further, at least an inch below the bottom of her areolas. Her nipples were hard and he zoomed in so tight on them that individual bumps could be seen.

"That's a high resolution camera," was all I could say.

He chuckled. "50 mega pixels," he said. He left the image focused on one of her nipples. "You're a lucky guy. You found a rare one. Really smart. And a hot wife."

"She's definitely both of those," I said.

That was about all I could take of the execs drunken perving on my wife. I stepped over to the table to get my drink and find Amber on the dance floor.

It was a slow song and they were dancing close. She turned her back to him and looked at me as they swayed, pressed tightly. He had one hand on the bare skin of her stomach under the crop top. His other hand was playing with her boob through the arm hole.

I was shocked. This was not a visualization my brain gave me. Amber was on the dance floor with a company exec that she just let me know had been studied intimately many times by her. And he was pressed against her ass playing with her boob while she smiled at me.

They continued to sway, her looking at me. She put her hands up over her head, giving the exec more access. His hand on her stomach slid slowly down, his fingers starting to slide under the top of her skirt. Slowly, slowly, the fingers dug further in and I remembered her panties were in my pocket.

This was too much, Amber being felt up in a bar by an executive while smiling at me with her eyes half shut in pleasure.

I think she saw my look and slowly, gracefully, pulled his hand from her skirt. She turned around and gave him a big hug and then returned to me.

"I think we should probably go now," I told her. I thought she was going to argue, but it appeared the whole day of excitement, the food, the alcohol, and everything else had exhausted her.

We started to say our goodbyes. The execs were disappointed but seemed to understand. One of them asked for a last dance and she agreed. I told her I was going to the restroom and I'd meet her at the door.

I really did need to pee, especially with a 30 minute drive ahead of us. I watched them on the floor and this exec, the guy who had been commenting on Amber's fashion sense, seemed to pick up right where the other guy had left off, a hand on the side of one of her breasts and whispering in her ear.

Or maybe not. They spun around and soon their backs were to me. I made a beeline to the bathroom.

The bathroom line was longer than expected and it might have been a few songs before I got back. I figured she would be waiting for me at the door, but I didn't see her there. I checked outside to see if she was out there, but nope.

That's when my brain decided to snap on me. Again. I had told her to meet me at the door and she wasn't inside or outside. Where else could she be? The restroom line probably took three songs, so if she came to the door after one song, what would have happened? My brain decided the only thing that could have happened was that Amber went into the parking lot with her dance partner. And maybe more guys.

I shook my head to get rid of the terrible thought, but my broken brain plodded on with evil intent. In my mind's eye, Amber and two execs had wandered drunkenly out to the parking lot, as she called for me. She had one on each side of her, elbows locked together. One of them released her elbow and reached over to grab her ass. He pushed her micro skirt up, essentially turning it into a belt around her waist. With not even a g-string on.

She just laughed and told them they were bad and that she promised me she would be good. That made them laugh and one of them said, "there are many ways to be good, you know."

Amber looked at him, "Oh, you know I'm good."

He looked at her skeptically. "Well, you dance ok and you look good. But I bet you're just plain vanilla when it comes down to it."

Amber stopped, offended. She looked at him, her skirt still around her waist, bare pussy showing in the parking lot lights. "Dance ok?! Look good?! Vanilla?!" Her face was red. "I'm way better than vanilla!" she yelled at him.

"Meh," he answered. "I doubt it. You'd have to prove it," he said, clearly goading her into the challenge. "Here's my truck," he said pointing next to them. "Here's your chance to prove you're more than looks."

I stood there as my brain ran through what happened next. Within moments, since time skips when your brain is broken, Amber was naked and pinned to the side of the truck, moaning. She had her legs wrapped around the waist of one of the guys as he pounded into her frantically.

She was screaming out all types of obscenities and deities as he pounded her against the truck. The other guy had disappeared. Then the passenger door of the truck opened and Amber was pulled off the first guy and toward the second who was sitting in the passenger seat. He had his hard cock out and soon in her face.

Amber didn't hesitate. She bent over slightly and began going to town on his cock. The first guy took the opportunity to slide in behind Amber and slid right in to resume his pounding. He alternated pulling her hair and groping her bouncing boobs. My brain even supplied the squishing sounds of her mouth on one cock and other pounding into her. It even supplied me with an imaginary close-up of his hard cock going in and out of her soaking wet pussy. On top of the moaning and gasping.

It didn't take long before the guy inside the truck erupted into her mouth and onto her face. A moment later, the guy pounding her from behind grunted and groaned, pounding harder and harder as he pumped inside her. With her mouth freed up, she uttered her own screams again as she orgasmed over and over.

She smiled over at me, cum dripping from her face and an exhausted guy still planted in her pussy. She turned to the guy who had fucked her. "Was that vanilla?"

I felt a tap on my shoulder. It was Amber just returned from her own visit to the bathroom.

"Sorry for making you wait. There was a long line," she said. "Have you been out here long?"

"Uh, no. Just a minute or so," I answered. I had no idea if my imagination had taken seconds or minutes or hours.

She smiled at me with a sexy glint. "Thanks for the first part of the celebration. Let's get out of here and start the next celebration."

Before we even got out of the parking lot she was naked and touching herself. She started pulling out my cock but I told her to wait until we got on the highway. Soon, though, she was stroking me and grinding on her own fingers. I was trying to steer and play with her boobs and not get caught speeding.

She came at least twice on the drive home.

When she calmed down I asked her about what happened on the dance floor when she danced with Colin. She came back and said she was surprised I didn't stop things, but I told her I hadn't been able to see much due to the others on the dance floor.

She looked over at me, naked and slouched on the seat. "Oh. I thought you could see us. I figured since you saw and didn't step in, you were ok with it."

I inhaled, not knowing what I needed to know. "Um. Ok with what?"

"I thought you saw," she said again. I told her to tell me and she didn't want to, but did so anyway.

Amber described thinking I was watching as Colin and she danced and she had her back to him, grinding in. "He said you would enjoy it if I did a stomp n roll dance move."

"What's that?"

"You don't know?" I shook my head. "It's a cheerleader move. You spread your legs about shoulder width and then bend at the waist, roll your hips around, and then do a hair flip when you come back up quickly."

Now that she described that, I recognized the move, having watched cheerleaders do that. Many times. As I thought about it, if she was already grinding her ass on him, spreading her legs and bending at the waist would basically thrust her ass at him. And with her in a micro skirt and her panties in my pocket, that meant her bare pussy would be pressed against his crotch as she rolled her hips.

Plus, that move would inevitably lift her skirt, so when she popped back up with the hair flip, it was almost guaranteed to have climbed well above her pussy.

"I. um. I never saw that," I said.

"I guess not," she replied sheepishly. "When you didn't jump in, I thought you like it, so I let Colin keep grinding on me. Next thing I knew, he had his hand on my thigh and then rubbing on the cat."

"What?"

"I'm so sorry. I thought you were watching and that you liked it. So I let it keep going."

"It went further?" I asked.

She nodded. "He got his fingers in me, Steve. I'm so sorry. But it felt so good. And so naughty. And I thought you were watching."

"Oh God. So when you were dancing with other guys you thought all of that was ok?"

She nodded again.

Fuck me. "How many times did that happen?"

"I don't know. Three or four, maybe." The way she said it made me think it happened more than that.

"And Mr. Smith. Did he get his fingers in?"

Amber nodded. "I'm so sorry. It was just fun and teasing and I thought you knew. When you gave me that look I thought you were just mad about him doing it. Not that you didn't know at all.

I wanted to close my eyes and die. But I was driving.

"Do I want to know what happened during your last dance when I went to the bathroom?" This was the guy that had shown me the pictures of Amber during the presentation and at lunch where her nipples were visible under her shirt.

Amber looked over at me. "No," was all she said. But then she looked down and saw that The Traitor was at full attention, pushing as hard as he could to tent my shorts.

While she was naked I still had all my clothes on, so she reached over and unzipped my shorts and pulled my really hard cock through the fly. She gave me a look of amazement at the size. "I wish I had my measuring equipment now," she said.

I looked over and she had that evil glint in her eye again, and I could tell that she thought my angst at her dance moves and getting fingered on the dance floor was just an act. That I really enjoyed her sex antics, as demonstrated by The Traitor.

Fuck me again.

Her voice got husky as she described what happened. "We started out with him grinding on my ass as we faced you. He was whispering in my ear about how sexy I was and how jealous he was of you. Then he swung us around so I couldn't see you. He told me he talked to you about how excited he was that you said I was a hot wife."

She looked at me.

"You never said I could be a hot wife before, so I was surprised. Then he showed me a picture from lunch and said he showed you that and you both agreed I was a hot wife."

I was confused. Amber is hot. And she's my wife. What's the big deal. Shouldn't every guy think he's married to a hot wife?

"Uh, huh," was all I could say. Confused.

"I asked him if he was sure and he said absolutely. You both talked about it. So I said ok."

"You said ok. That's it?"

"I guess that gave him the green light. He danced us toward a darker corner and next thing I knew my skirt was completely up and he had one of my legs around his waist. He was whispering in my ear about how hot this would make you, seeing his hot wife dancing like this.

"Since you told him it was ok, I let him keep going. I had my eyes closed, just enjoying the feeling of being all slutty on the dance floor for you. He was rubbing me all over. I was just enjoying the dance and the feelings and then he lifted my leg a little higher and next thing I knew his whole penis was inside me.

"He was pushing in and out and it felt so good and naughty, so I let him keep going. I was losing my mind thinking about how much you were enjoying watching your hot wife getting fucked on the dance floor.

"I was about to cum and I looked up to make eye contact so you could watch, but you had left and then I saw you at the bar door and looking outside! I realized you hadn't been watching at all. And I was just fucking a company vice president on the dance floor.

"Then I realized that as hot as watching me makes you, you only wanted to see so much. And that you wanted me to tell you about it. But I didn't want to fuck him. I was only doing that for you to watch. So I pushed him away and out of me and put my skirt back down."

We were both quiet for a while, but she was still rubbing on The Traitor, who was still as hard as he'd ever been.

She finally spoke. "Do you want me to fuck other guys? In front of you? Or have me tell you about it?"

I shook my head no and then looked at her. "I love it when you flirt and stuff. Maybe even further. But I never intended to say that you should be fucking other guys. That thing with Terry was an accident, remember?"

She nodded. "But, this..." she said as she flexed her hand on my cock.

"I can't control him," I explained. "He likes it." I pointed at my irrelevant brain, "but he doesn't. Remember?"

She looked at me. "You're so confusing." She smiled again and resumed stroking my hard cock. He'd been so hard for so long and dealt with so much today. There was a lot pent up, so when I told her it was coming I wasn't kidding at all.

Fortunately, Amber know what to do with ejaculations and managed to keep everything close, including the first few shots that might have made it to the windshield without her management.

Once again, when I was finally done and caught my breath, I wished I could be normal. But then again, I'm glad I'm not normal and boring. These days with Amber are anything but boring. I can't imagine life without these experiences.

Maybe it's not so bad. Maybe it's really bad and the stress will give me a heart attack by the time I'm 30. I want to change and I absolutely don't want to change. And I'm desperate for Amber to be happy and fulfilled. I guess we'll figure all of this out together.