Although this story is 'self-contained' it is better if read before its companion piece - 'Break-out'
Chapter 1
Trial and Error
A couple of years ago, when as they say, I was 'between careers', I took a job with a company specialising in long-term, attitudinal research, measuring people's shifting attitudes to a wide variety of topics; religion, politics, health, things like that. As you can imagine, the questionnaire was long and complex, taking well over an hour to complete, so it wasn't practical to just stop people in the street.
Apart from the time the interview took it was also important to have what's called a 'structured sample' of the population, so that the people we actually interviewed represented the general mix of the nation as a whole - the right percentage of teachers, doctors, garbage-collectors, lawyers, bus-drivers - that kind of thing. To help us achieve this we were given specific streets or areas, that had previously been identified by the research planners as being most likely to provide the type of people needed. We then went round from door to door, checking for people who fitted the profile we had been given and then either conducting the interview or trying to make an appointment to do so at a more convenient time.
I found myself actually enjoying the work, as I had always had the gift of the gab I rarely had any problem in getting my quota of interviews as some people did - and meeting a variety of people was a constant source of interest.
One thing that did surprise me was the number of women at home during the day. I'd thought that these days they all had jobs or careers and although I came across my fair share of weirdoes, from time I came across some really good looking ones. Being a normal, horny male I started thinking about the possibilities, but it's a bit hard to chat-up a woman when you are in the middle of asking her about the political problems in South Africa or the place of the Pope in the world today.
The more I thought about it the more I realised that what I needed was some way of introducing sex into my questioning, to at least get the woman thinking about the subject. I wasn't stupid enough to think that just thinking about it would get me into bed with her, but at least it would be heading in the right direction - it would be up to me to take it from there. I also realised that I had to be careful, one complaint or even just a phone call back to the office and I could be in real trouble - and, out of a job!
But as my love-life was non-existent at that time I thought the potential rewards were worth taking the chance and started working up a questionnaire of my own, then typed it up on the machines at the office and photo-copied a supply of them. The finished result was a very professional job and I realised that apart from anything else, I had picked up a fair bit of knowledge of basic research techniques.
Having finished it I was too nervous to use it for a couple of days - but during the interviews I could feel it almost burning a hole through the back of the folder that held my regular questionnaire. Of course I made excuses to myself - the women were not sufficiently attractive, too nervous, too aggressive, anything at all to avoid having to actually try it out.
But I realised that I was being silly, so finally I forced myself to go through with it - and then the first three times I bombed out!
The first, a really good looking blonde with breasts that seemed determined to pop out of the skimpy cotton top she had on, seemed to be a natural. But by the time I had got to question six or seven she was blushing like mad and suddenly said she remembered that she had an appointment for lunch!
The next turned out to be a lesbian. The third was so matter of fact about the whole thing that I got the feeling she probably made love according to some kind of schedule.
As you can imagine, I was beginning to think that my idea was a fizzer - then I met Jane!
Chapter 2
Jane
I was working my way round an area of very expensive houses full of doctors, lawyers and high-powered business people. Most of the wives didn't actually work but catching them at home and with an hour to spare was really tough going. I began to reckon that the wives were working harder at their social lives than their husbands were at their jobs.
I'll never forget the house; a big, two-storey place set well back from the street, almost hidden behind a wall and a very well kept garden. Having walked up the curving drive I rang the bell, not really expecting to find anyone other than a cleaner or cook available - but Jane answered the door herself.
She was, in a word - adorable! Short, bobbed black hair with a fringe that fell to just above her eyebrows. Dramatic, blue-green eyes, large and wide-set, with the longest lashes I had ever seen. A classic little turned-up nose and a wide, generous mouth completed her absolutely stunning looks. She was wearing a sort of peasant-style outfit that I had noticed on several of the women in the area during the previous couple of weeks and which I presumed was the current, trendy fashion - a mid-length, full skirt which had rows of patterned ribbons running around it and above that, a white scoop-necked blouse. Although I thought it made most of the women look slightly ridiculous, on her it looked gorgeous and I felt myself staring at the way the blouse showed off the soft, upper curve of her breasts.
I introduced myself and showed her my credentials and then went on to outline the purpose of my visit and the time involved if she agreed to participate. She seemed preoccupied, as though there were something bothering her but in spite of that, as she invited me inside, I decided I absolutely had to try out my private survey at least this one more time.
She took me through to the kitchen, which was almost as big as my entire flat, sat me down and suggested I get my papers ready while she made us both some coffee at the same time telling me that her name was Jane. When she finally joined me I took her through the format and details of the questionnaire - and outlined the other one too.
The way I explained it was by saying that we were working on behalf of an associate company, that had been commissioned to survey the sexual attitudes, problems and practices within the community. That we understood that many people might be offended by the intimacy of some of the questions and that people willing to answer those in the main survey should not feel under any obligation to answer the others too.
She reacted with a raised eyebrow and a slight smile playing at the corners of her mouth - as though some private joke had crossed her mind - but I pressed on and then started asking her views on the many and various subjects included in the official questionnaire. As the questions and her answers began to flow she gave me the impression that she was feeling relaxed and comfortable with me and I found my original hopes rising.
Although we are supposed to be quite dead-pan during the session, so as to avoid any chance of our reactions influencing the person's replies, I ignored that this time and made asides and comments from time to time and was further encouraged by her smiles and an occasional laugh at what I had said. I felt more and more certain that if ever I was to be successful with my own questionnaire, Jane was my best chance - but still realised that it would all boil down to her own feelings about sex itself. 'Would she turn out to be a prude after all?' I wondered.
As I got closer to the end of the questions I felt the first, faint flutter of butterflies in my stomach, realising that any minute now it would be make or break time. But, as I got that nervousness under control I became aware of another kind of stirring inside me and as I turned to what I knew was the last page, I found myself examining her even more closely - the soft swelling curves of her breasts, the way her hair curled around her ears, those long, thick lashes framing her dramatically coloured eyes. And found myself trying to imagine her body beneath the clothes and how it might actually look and feel, in my arms - naked!
The thoughts triggered a familiar ache and as it grew I became aware of the slow stiffening of my cock - and I also realised that she was sitting, quite silently, watching me, waiting for me to continue.
'I'm sorry - I'm sorry.' I mumbled. 'I lost my train of thought for a moment.
Her smile was non-committal and she still said nothing. I hurried through the last few questions, becoming even more aware of her closeness and my own, growing response to her but somehow got through the last page and, without stopping, went straight on with the introduction to my own 'research'.
'As this is a separate section some of the opening questions are similar to some I have already asked you, for the other part.' She nodded her understanding. 'O.K., first some multiple choice questions - 'Single, living in a permanent relationship or married?''
'Married.' she replied, settling herself back in her chair.
''Age of spouse - 25 to 30, 30 to 35, 35 to 45, 45 to 60 or over 60?''
'The third one.'
The next is optional.' I said with a grin. 'You're age?'
'The second group.'
I looked up briefly. 'Sorry.' I said. 'Just a reflex, I find it hard to believe, you look younger.'
