Two PhD candidates in human sexuality are collecting data for their dissertations. They hoped to recruit ordinary coeds as study participants. They should have been more careful.
Read on for an excerpt.
“Tell us what you see—please.”
“I can’t really see his penis or much of it. The part that’s not in the woman’s mouth is pretty thick. I could only guess that it’s long as well, based on her expression. She looks …stuffed. I think she’s taken him as deep as she can. The other two men, I’m not sure what to make of them. They might be into each other or they might be into her. It’s hard to tell. They’re facing the girl, but they’re staring at each other’s erections while they jerk off. The men are very attractive: tall, well built and well groomed. They could be twins, actually—except for their cocks.”
“Um …Okay, I get it—I think. I bet you have a whole stack of photos for me to scrutinize and label. You’re after my perception of what’s big, what’s small, what’s desirable and what’s repulsive. You’re collecting a bunch of subjective impressions, hoping to dispel the labels or erase the benchmarks that define attractiveness and ugliness. But you don’t even know me. What qualifies me to be part of your representative sample?”
“I’m very impressed, Amy. You’re quite sharp. However, you’re far off the track in this case.” Jeremy paused for a few seconds before continuing, “You’re reading too much into what we’re doing here. It’s a simple survey about sex, sexual habits and sexual proclivities—that’s all. We’re not trying to change the world’s standards. We simply want to help categorize them and better understand them. You’ll answer our questions, sometimes with a simple ‘yes’ or ‘no,’ sometimes, if you would, with as much detail as you can provide.”
“What’s with the photograph?”
“We want to be assured that you’re comfortable verbalizing your thoughts. Approximations aren’t a lot of help to us. Anyway, I think we’re good. Let’s keep this moving.”
“You mean because you heard me say ‘cock.’ So I passed the test?”
“We want you to be able to communicate your responses using precise language, yes. And no more photographs for you to detail. I promise.” Jeremy searched through his notes, as if he’d lost his place.
“One of the men—the one with the Prince Albert piercing—has just finished ejaculating. Some of his come has landed on the woman’s ass. Some of it’s dripping down her thigh. I think I understand her expression better now. She wants to collect a dollop of jizz with her finger and have a taste. Yeah, I can tell she wants to spit that monster prick out of her mouth and suck the other guy’s salty cream from her finger. What do you think?” Amy nodded at Brooke.
Brooke lowered her gaze to the computer tablet that was slipping across her tightly crossed legs like a wet bar of soap. “This isn’t about me, Amy. Thank you for that interpretation, though. We’re going to move on with the survey now.”
Amy folded her hands together and let them fall to her lap. She hadn’t realized there would be a test she’d have to pass before advancing to Brooke and Jeremy’s precious survey questions. She wanted the hundred bucks; but, geez, it was only a hundred bucks. She decided that one more outburst of pretentiousness from either of them and she was out of there. She had better things to do with her Friday than spell out a porn scene to a couple of tightly wound, pompous grad students. Screw the money. And screw Dylan. It was his fault she was in such a testy mood anyway.