Sex Lab – Part 1
“I have to pee.” Hannah announced to her friends, Veronica and Chelsea, then stood up from the grassy ground and walked towards the woods.
“Thanks for the update,” Chelsea said.
Veronica sipped her beer and flashed a thumbs up.
Hannah crossed a field onto a path that led to an outhouse away from the main gathering area in the state park. The park was crammed with college students for the annual beginning of the year kegger party.
“Ouch,” Hannah cried as her foot hit a tree root and she stumbled. God, I’m skunked. Hannah followed the dirt path, surrounded by white oak and elm trees, to the outhouse.
“Disgusting,” Hannah said. The toilet seat looks like a giant scab. Hannah slammed the door shut of the ancient, stinky, graffiti-strewn, wood structure. She left the path and headed deeper into the woods, swatting the bugs that hovered in the humid air.
Believing she was far enough away from other eyes, Hannah dropped her pants, her back against a large tree, squatted, and peed.
An “ah” sound escaped Hannah’s mouth and her head tilted skyward, as the leaves crackled beneath her, and relief swept through her body. Then behind her, on the other side of the tree, she heard another crackling sound. She peaked around the tree’s trunk and saw leaves dancing under a powerful stream of urine – she traced the arc up to its owner. He too, was making the “ah” sound with his head tilted skyward.
Although embarrassed, Hannah’s urge to jump to her feet for modesty’s sake was overpowered by her biological need and she saw the guy was not going to stop. Given her position, she had only one choice, she tilted her head up, “Hi, I’m Hannah Byrnes.”
Tilting his head down, the handsome guy smiled, “Hi, I’m Jason Gold. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Hannah Byrnes.”
***
“I can’t think of worse way to meet someone,” Jason said to Hannah as they walked on the path back to the kegger party.
“Ya think,” Hannah said.
“Wanna have a beer and try again?”
“Sure.”
They found an empty patch of grass near the beer kegs and sat. Hannah tossed her long black hair behind her head and stretched out, the cool blades of grass felt good on her bare arms and legs. She smiled as she caught Jason’s eyes scanning her body.
“I’ll go get the beers,” Jason said and went to a keg line.
Not too tall or too short. Nice arms, Hannah thought.
As Jason returned with the beers, Hannah pulled herself into a cross-legged position. Jason plopped down in front of Hannah, cross-legged as well, his wavy brown hair skimming his shoulders. Jason handed her a beer.
“I work in a sex lab,” Jason said.
“That’s a new one.”
“It’s true. I’m a psych major with a focus on human sexuality.”
“Then the sex lab is not a campus rumor. And ewww”
“No, it’s real and I’m there twice a week. It’s not Masters and Johnson’s stuff. Two people aren’t, uh . . . on an open exam table with Klieg lights and cameras rolling. Dr. Lincoln is developing objectivemeasures of male and female eroticism.”
Hannah sips her beer. “I’ll probably regret this but, how does that work?”
“Basically, volunteers are wired up and then they watch an erotic film.”
“Wired up?”
“To devices that measure their level of arousal. The process is more complicated for female volunteers.”
“I bet. And what do you do?”
“I explain the procedure, then sit in a separate room and watch moving pens rolling on a physiograph machine. It’s very clinical.”
“You do this for men and women?”
“No. Katie is a grad student she’s usually there as well. Depends on the volunteer schedule.”
“What do these volunteers do while they’re watching?”
“Hah! We don’t know for sure. There are no microphones and no windows in the subject room. They probably do whatever people do when they’re alone and, are you know. . . in that way.”
“How do you know when they’re done?”
Jason gulped a few slugs of his beer, put the cup down and ran his hands through his hair. Hannah found Jason’s discomfort charming.
“The film, which is eleven minutes long, is run simultaneously on two video receivers: one in the subject room, the other in the control room.”
“You watch the film too?”
“Yep. The experimenter is required to monitor it. Also, there’s a separate door in the subject room that leads outside. We found volunteers aren’t keen on interacting with us once their time is over. And for men, it’s obvious when they’re done, the pattern is remarkably consistent across subjects. The pens shoot upward from baseline and shimmy. After a period of time, the pens stop – dead – as if they hit a brick wall, then plunge back to baseline like a dropping rollercoaster.
“A period of time?”
“Not one guy has made the full eleven minutes.”
“Amazing,” Hannah laughed, then using her index finger stirred her beer, Jason’s eyes following each swirl. “So, the men go to the lab to ‘play the trombone.’”
“What?”
“You know, ‘shake hands with Abraham Lincoln.’”
“Huh?”
“You know ‘man the torpedo . . .’”
“Ok I get it.”
“Sorry, I was just pulling your leg.”
“Oh my god. Please stop!”
Hannah lifted her index finger to her mouth, again trailed by Jason’s gaze, and tasted the beer, “I bet the girls are different.”
“Let’s just say, there’s a lot of” – using air quotes – “’intrasubject variability.’”
Hannah giggled, “I thought as much. Who volunteers for this sort of thing?”
“There’s no shortage of male volunteers. In fact, we get a lot of ‘repeaters.’”
“Figures.”
“The problem,” Jason continued, “is getting female volunteers.”
“Why is that so difficult?”
“Well, men just place a mercury-filled loop over themselves. Women have to clip and . . . uh, push a uh. . . and uh . . . let’s put it this way, when they learn exactly what goes where, they decline. Katie does the recruiting and, often, volunteers herself. Her boyfriend volunteers too. She says they’re doing it for science.”
Hannah finished her beer and handed the empty cup to Jason. His handsome face was framed by the cloudless blue sky. “Can you get me another, please?”
Hannah’s head followed as Jason, empty cups in hand, raised himself to stand, using only his legs. Hannah liked the fit of his shorts. The keg line moved fast, and, in a flash, Jason returned and, again, sat cross legged in front of Hannah but, this time, their knees touched.
“Here,” Jason leaned toward Hannah, beer in hand, their faces inches apart. Goose bumps erupted over Hannah’s body. She felt Jason’s hand on her cheek. Hannah touched his hand and said, “Let’s do it.”
“What?”
“I’ll volunteer as a subject for the sex lab, if you do it too.”
Jason leaned away, a sly smile emerged, then he raised his cup and said, “For science.”
Hannah said and raised her cup, “For science.”