G-Spot

Dr. Devon congratulated both of us, and specifically me. It was, after all, my project. "Miss Grady, I hope you will consider furthering your education at our university. If so, we're prepared to offer you a full ride scholarship, and furthermore, we're prepared to fund another study—this one, off campus and concentrating on married subjects. Right off the top of your head, do you have a gut feeling about how that study might vary from this one?"

Dr. Geote, looked at me. He already knew my answer, "Yes, Ma'am. I believe the percentage of positive results will go up substantially."

"Oh?" Dr. Devon raised her eyebrows, "And why is that?"

"In my opinion, the physiology won't differ at all, but I believe the subject's level of comfort with sexual situations will result in their being more relaxed, and therefore achieving higher levels of sexual arousal. Therefore, I believe a higher number of them will exhibit discernable results."

* * *

Back in our office, Dr. Geote told me in a sincere voice, "Congratulations, Gina. I never would have believed it; but you've made me a believer."

"Thank you, Doctor. That means a lot, coming from you. Now, I think a celebration is in order."

He chuckled, "Sorry, I didn't think to have a bottle of Champagne at the ready."

"Well, you could always take me out to dinner."

"I uh . . . I don't think that would be appropriate. I'm your . . . and you're my . . . we should keep our relationship professional."

"I understand." I told him as I got up and began meandering mindlessly around the office. When I was behind him, I said, "In the first place, we no longer have a professional relationship. That ended when our study did." And then I leaned over and purred into his ear, "And in the second place, it would just be dinner. I wasn't inviting you to search for my G-Spot AGAIN!" And then I walked back around the desk, "And besides, it's obvious you don't have a wife or girlfriend, so I'm guessing you don't have any big plans for dinner tonight."

* * *

When we met at the restaurant, I was dressed rather conservatively—not unlike how I dressed for school. He looked the same, except that his tie showed no signs of being previously used as a napkin.

Once we were seated and enjoying a glass of wine, he asked me, "How did you know . . . that I don't have a girlfriend, I mean?"

I showed him a scolding look, "No wife or girlfriend would let you out of the house dressed like that."

"What's wrong with the way I'm dressed?"

"Doctor . . . oh hell, what is your first name anyway?"

He sighed heavily, "Vincent".

I slid out of the booth and offered him my hand. When he was standing, I said, "C'mon, Vinny." And I began leading him toward the back of the restaurant.

"I huh, I don't really like . . . I'm not fond of . . . never mind."

I was afraid if I led him into the Ladies room, someone might call the manager—or worse, the police. So I pushed my way into the Men's room and pulled him in behind me. Fortunately, the Men's room was unoccupied.

And then I stood 'Vinny' in front of the large mirror above the sinks and slid up behind him and slightly to one side, "Tell me what you see. Describe your appearance to me."

When he hesitated I said, "Vinny, you're a scientist. You're trained to observe and report, so forget that it's you you're looking at. Just observe and report."

"Okay, okay, I'm a slob. I admit it. It's just that my job . . . it doesn't . . . oh hell, why do you care anyway?"

"Vinny, I don't go out with slobs. I do have my standards."

His whole body stiffened, "Go out? But I'm a . . . you're a . . . oh hell, Gina, are you trying to seduce me?"

That made me laugh out loud, "Seduce you? I don't think so. I might though, after we get you cleaned up and looking presentable. After all, it's not like we're strangers. We've been working together for months . . . and you've already had your fingers inside my pussy."

The instant I said THAT word, the blood drained from his face. And then a few seconds later, it was replaced with ten times as much blood. His face and neck turned a precious shade of red.

"Vincent!" I said in a scolding voice, "We're not in the office or the lab. We don't have to keep things so 'clinical'. I have a pussy, and you've had your fingers inside it."

He acted exasperated, "That was . . . oh, never mind."

All of a sudden, the door opened. The teenage boy stopped in his tracks when he saw me.

I giggled, "Sorry, we were just leaving." And I urged Vinny toward the door.

* * *

When we got back to our table, I told Vinny, "You look like you could use something a little stronger than wine." And I waved over our waiter. Before our waiter got to us, I ask Vinny, "Any preferences?"

He just shook his head, so I told the waiter when he got to our table, "Two double Scotch on the rocks please."

Vinny protested, "We're both driving."

I rolled my eyes, "We haven't even ordered our food yet. We'll be fine by the time we're ready to leave. And besides, you're going to need it for the rest of our conversation."

He glanced up at the ceiling and then back to me, "What conversation do we need to have?"

I giggled, "It can wait until we've had our drinks."

* * *

Dr. Geote and I didn't talk at all until after our Scotch had been delivered and we'd consumed about half of them. And then I looked right at him and said, "There's nothing more I can do on my project until next semester, so I need a new project to keep me busy."

He looked somewhat relieved, obviously thinking I was referring to something school related. "Oh? What kind of project are you considering?"

I giggled and showed him a devilish grin, "I'm way past the 'considering' stage. I've already decided on one."

"Well?"

Staring him right in the eyes, I said, "My new project is YOU!"

Before responding, he picked up his glass and gulped down the rest of his Scotch. I could almost see his brain whirling. "Aren't you taking a lot for granted?"

I showed him another grin, "Nope".

* * *

On Saturday, I found that Vin, which I learned was a lot less irritating to Vincent than Vinny, had a very nice apartment. It was generally clean, but cluttered. He'd turned the second bedroom into his office, and that's where he stayed while I straightened up some.

I gathered up his dirty shirts, slacks and ties, and put them in a pile by the front door. Those would go to the dry cleaners. The rest of his dirty clothes, socks, boxers and such went straight to the laundry room, as did his sheets and pillow cases.

The only time I saw Vin was when he came out of his office to get another bottle of seltzer water from the kitchen or go to the bathroom. It was obvious he was avoiding me.

When it was time for me to leave, I stuck my head into his office, "I'm heading out. I'll be back at one tomorrow to give you a haircut." And then I closed door quickly before he had a chance to protest.

* * *

No one ever paid for a haircut in the Grady home. Mom had been a beautician in a previous life, and she taught me the tricks of the trade. I didn't bring my hair cutting stuff with me to college, so I had to buy a new cape, spray bottle, scissors, and straight razor.

The following day, Sunday, Vin practically begged me, "Please don't chop off my pony tail." He was sitting on his balcony, covered with the cape, and I was dampening his hair with water from the spray bottle.

I assured him I was only going to even up the ends a little, and then I went to work. Forty-five minutes later, Vin stepped in front of the mirror in his bathroom and evaluated my handiwork. Not only was his hair much neater, but I'd also trimmed his beard and mustache.

"Look at that handsome devil." I teased him.

He took a deep breath and seemed to relax, "Actually, I do like it."

I giggled, "I told you I knew what I was doing. Now, when I get your clothes out of the dry cleaners tomorrow, I'll allow you to ask me out . . . and I'll even consider saying 'yes'. Oh, and I'll bring you the receipt from the dry cleaners. I expect to be reimbursed."

* * * * *

It was Sunday evening and I didn't have any early classes on Monday, so I made the ten block walk from my dorm to Chili's. That was a popular hang out for students whose dorms were on that side of campus. The sidewalk was well lit, and the campus police and Austin police kept a close eye on it after dark.

I got there just after six p.m., early enough to get a booth, which would have been almost impossible later in the evening. The waiter had just delivered my Southwestern Egg Rolls when two girls slid into the booth behind me.

I wasn't trying to eavesdrop, but they were talking so loud, it would have been impossible for me not to hear, even over the music. At first, they were just engaging in normal chitchat: Which professors they thought were dreamy, and which were assholes and bitches and loaded them down with homework. However, a few minutes after getting their food, their conversation got much more interesting to me.

I was surprised when the one talking didn't lower her voice while explaining to her companion about a study she'd been a part of a few weeks earlier, "It was the easiest fifty bucks I ever made."

"What did you have to do?" Her friend asked.

"You'll think I'm lying. All I had to do was go into a room and play with myself. I was supposed to get myself all turned on."

Her friend screeched, "Oh my god! They paid you for getting yourself off? Were they watching or filming you or something?"

"No, I wasn't supposed to get off. I just had to push a button when I was really turned on, and then this nurse came in and looked at my pussy while she was making some notes."

"That's it? That's all you had to do?"

"Pretty much, except the nurse put her fingers inside me for like ten seconds, made some more notes, and then told me I could get dressed."

"So she was like an OBGYN student or something, huh?"

"I guess, I'm not really sure."

Her friend laughed, "Shit, I'd get myself off two or three times a day for fifty bucks a whack, and I don't care who watches."

I heard a cell phone ring. The friend answered it, "Hey Gary, what's up?"

After a few seconds, she said "Okay, okay, I'm at Chili's. Pick me up out front in five minutes."

"Five minutes! We're not even finished eating." The first girl told her friend.

"I'm full anyway. He sounded like he's been drinking, so I assume he just wants a blowjob or something."

The first girl laughed, "So, go on and have some dessert. I'm going to hang here for a few minutes. You can hit me for your share of the bill later."

When her friend was gone, I couldn't resist introducing myself. I got up and stood at their table, "I'm sorry. I wasn't trying to eavesdrop, but I couldn't help overhearing some of your conversation. I was involved in the study you were talking about. May I join you? I'll spring for the drinks."

When she agreed, I looked around until I spotted my waitress. I waved her over, and when she was there, I told her I was done at my table, "Please close out my ticket and hers, and start me a new tab." After checking our IDs, she took our drink order, a Screwdriver for Shelly, and a Scotch on the rocks for me.

When the waitress was gone, I turned my attention back to Shelly, "So, do you have any idea what that study was all about?"

She shrugged, "I have no idea. I didn't really care. I just needed the cash."

"Do you remember what your number was—the one they gave you when you signed up?"

"Hrm, sixty-two, I think, why?"

I didn't know the faces or names of our subjects, but I did know the assigned numbers. I could recount the precise results of each and every one. Sixty-two was a negative result with respect to having a noticeable G-Spot, and her external genitals showed only modest signs of arousal. "To be totally honest, that was my study. I designed it . . . with some help, of course."

My revelation didn't seem to faze her, "Oh, then thanks for the cash. If you ever need another subject, I'm available."

"I remember the report on you—of all our subjects. You didn't get very turned on, did you?"

Our drinks arrived, but that didn't stop Shelly from answering with a chuckle, "Not really—I mean, the whole situation was kinda cold and clinical. I just couldn't get really into it."

"Oh? What do you think would have made it more 'conducive' to you being able to get into it?

She shrugged again, "I don't know. Other than having a good looking guy there to get me going, or at least the nurse helping with that, I guess dimming the lights, candles, mood music, maybe some porn on a TV."

I nodded, "I understand totally. Now, do you have any idea what the study was actually trying to accomplish?"

"I don't have a clue." She said while shaking her head.

"We were looking for your G-Spot. Have you ever tried to find yours?"

Shelly laughed out loud, "Tried to find it? That's too funny. Hell, when I'm really, really turned on; it's hard to miss mine."

"Gotcha"

And then, after draining the last of her Screwdriver, she shocked the shit out of me, "Hell, two more drinks, and we can conduct our own private study."

I'd never had any kind of sex with another girl, but I was very tempted. She was, after all, a very attractive girl. And too, the opportunity to confirm for myself that one of our negative results should have gone into the positive column, was more than I could resist. I caught the eye of our waitress and gave her the signal that we were ready for another round.

Shelly giggled, "I'll take that as a yes."

* * * * *

Before leaving the restaurant, Shelly made a phone call, "Hey, Dolly, I'm going to need the room for a couple of hours." After a brief pause, she said, "Hell, I don't know. Just get lost for a while. Go find Brenda or someone else. We'll be there in fifteen minutes, and I need you to be gone." And then she said to me, "Sorry about that. My roommate can be stubborn sometimes."

"Maybe she's jealous." I offered.

That caused Shelly to laugh, "Nah, she's straight as an arrow. I've been trying to seduce her all semester."

"Oh? So I'm not your first?" I asked with a giggle.

Shelly stopped in her tracks and turned me toward her. She immediately leaned in and gave me a passionate kiss. That was the first time I'd ever kissed a girl, and I enjoyed it so much, my pussy became instantly wet. Maybe the thing that made it so hot was the fact that there were other students walking by while we were kissing. Some made comments like "Looks like someone is going to be having fun tonight." But most just walked on by without comment.

"Whew!" I said when we broke our kiss, and I fanned my face with my hand. When we started walking again, I confessed, "That was a first for me."

Shelly showed me a surprised look, "First girl-girl kiss?"

"Yep."

"Wow! You could have fooled me. So?"

"I think that girl was right. 'Someone's going to be having fun tonight'."

She laughed, "I know I am."

* * * * *

When I hadn't heard from Vin all week, I called him on Friday. "Well, I'm waiting." I teased him.

To his credit, he got my meaning, "Uh, right. How about lunch tomorrow?"

"Lunch will be a good start. Where?"

"I thought I'd put some steaks on the grill."

"Okay, I'll be there at eleven. I have an update on our study to go over with you."

"What kind of update?"

"You'll find out." I told him with a teasing giggle.

* * * * *

Vin handed me a beer from his fridge, "Sorry, beer is all I have."

"It's fine." I said as I went out on the patio and sat in one of the folding camping chairs. While Vin was putting the tenderized and seasoned steaks onto the grill, I told him, "I met one of our subjects at Chili's after I left here last Sunday."

He looked around at me, "Oh?"

"She and a friend were in the next booth, and I heard her telling her friend about the study. When her friend left, I introduced myself. She was number sixty-two."

Vin held up a finger to tell me he'd be right back, and then he darted into the house. When he returned, he had the binder which contained the observations on each subject.

After flipping a few pages, he said, "She was a negative, and didn't display any signs of being aroused."

"I know, but we got that one wrong. She's definitely a positive."

"How can you be so sure?"

"She admitted she hadn't gotten turned on at all. She said the whole situation was too clinical, and she had some recommendations how to set it up better next time."

"I'm listening." He said, seemingly very interested.

"She suggested dimming the lights, candles, mood music," And then I added with a giggle, "And the 'nurse' helping get her in the mood."

"Oh." He said flatly as he checked on the steaks. "But all of that isn't proof that she should have been a positive. It's just circumstantial and speculation."

I shot him a stern look, "Vin, I wouldn't have even mentioned it if I didn't have more than circumstantial evidence and speculation."

He looked confused, "Oh?"

"Let's just say she and I went back to her dorm room and conducted our own experiment."

He looked shocked, "You didn't."

I laughed, "I did, and it was more fun than I could have imagined. That was my first time with a girl, but I can say without any shadow of a doubt that she's definitely a positive."

He was standing there staring at me, so I giggled and said, "Don't burn the steaks. I'll go get us another beer. You look like you can use one . . . or ten."

When I came out of the bathroom, Vin was already inside and fixing our plates, the steaks and a mixture of Bush's beans and Mexican corn. I got us each a fresh beer and took my seat at the table. Vin was obviously avoiding direct eye contact with me.

There was no way I was going to let up on him now. I was relishing his discomfort. "Actually, number sixty two was already a positive after only a few minutes of making out."

"I believe you." He practically snapped at me. "I don't need to hear the

details."

I laughed, "What's the matter, DOCTOR, is the visual you're getting starting to get to you? Do I need to check you to see if you're a positive?"

Vin scowled at me, "You're having fun, aren't you?"

"Maybe, but not nearly as much fun as I had following up on our study with number sixty-two. And, just so you know, she didn't turn into an overwhelming positive until I started licking her pussy and sucking on her clit. Wow, did her G-Spot really present itself then! I was impressed."

"Gina!" And then he let out a big sigh, "Oh hell, never mind. I wouldn't want to interfere with your fun."

I laughed for a long time, and then I said, "I'm sure most guys would enjoy hearing the details of their girlfriend fucking another girl . . . or watching even."

"Is that what you think you are—my girlfriend, I mean?"

I looked him straight on, "I'm the closest you have to one, aren't I?"

He tilted his head, signifying that he had resigned himself to the truthfulness of my statement.

"Good, now that we have that settled, I'll expect you to start acting like it. You can start by asking me out on a proper date, a movie, dancing, something normal boyfriends and girlfriends do. Oh, and it wouldn't hurt you to show me a little affection now and then."

"You know, I am ten years older than you?"

"Ooooooh, wow! Ten years? My god! I hope I don't end up in jail for having sex with a geriatric. Oh wait, we haven't had sex . . . YET. Why is that, by the way? I'm a sexy girl who has a crush on you, and so far, you haven't even seemed to notice. Well? I'm waiting."

Vin got up and began clearing the table. I could tell he was trying to decide how to respond, so I just sat there and waited.

Finally, Vin walked up beside me, leaned down, and gave me a warm kiss on the lips. And then returned to his chair across from me and gave me a 'well?' look.