Chapter 3

Two days later, and Cheryl and Joe sat around in Joanne’s living room, the house otherwise deserted. Both Ella and Charlie were in school. Joanne was at work, still supporting local artists. The couple were doing what they had done ten years before. Both working on their writing. Cheryl somehow responding to Joe’s questions while finishing a memorial article honoring Nigella for Rolling Stone. Still staff, but with an ideal contract and better pay. Complete rights of refusal. When an editor asked her to write something, it was done politely and hopefully, somewhere between a request and pleading. Joe was at the beginning of his next novel asking Cheryl and himself about the cold blooded hitman who had a wife and kids living in the suburbs whom he cherished. Like any dad having breakfast with his family, then going off to work. But instead of some nine to five office work, he killed people. Joe was with Cheryl at the prison when she interviewed the man who would inspire his next novel. He wasn’t Cheryl’s focus. That was the man the killer had befriended in prison and then killed. Another life sentence didn’t matter to him. And Cheryl’s focus had more to do with why the murdered man had gone to prison than the man himself. One of a few characters she researched. Her book concerned the divide between greed and compassion in corporate America. The disregard of morality to make money. A dark exploration of Gordon Gecko’s famous quote in Oliver Stone’s Wall Street that Greed is Good.

The night before, Sally, Joanne’s brilliant accountant, and Joe’s and his wives’ since she was so good at it, had come over as she did sometimes when Joe was in town. Another woman in his life who had a need he could fulfill. It had started as a joke. Plain and quiet, Joe hadn’t ever noticed her in Joanne’s office, but when she got involved in the finances of the original Dreamscape performances at the Southern nearly ten years before, she got noticed. Joe noticed her frequent but shy glances at him, looking away when he glanced back, but he did catch her, so it wasn’t immediate. Joanne noticed too, and kidded him about it. But she also recommended going on into the future whenever he made a success of his writing that Sally would be the best accountant he could find. Which led to his first real conversation with the woman.

They’d talked. Mostly her rattling off nervously when she handed him a check a few days after the Dreamscape show. A check much larger than he imagined it would be. He imagined expenses would have taken most of it. She gave him a form with it and a choice. He could disperse the money like a regular company, and have to let the government know all the payments. Or he could pay people in cash, and take responsibility for paying taxes on the money he dispersed. She told him what that would be, and how he should take that into account when dividing the money up. She even had a spread sheet with cast and crew and her recommended divisions, with Joe getting by far the largest chunk. He didn’t object to the cut, having written, directed and produced it. Paying cash made the most sense, and the form she had anticipated that.

He asked her about her name not being on the list. She explained Joanne had her on salary, with extra for her extra work on the play. “But,” she said, “I’d do it for free. Or maybe not free. I’d take it in trade,” and she blushed deeply and ran off.

That was the sort of joke.

At that point in his life, whether he got the joke or not, Joe had a lot on his table, including a few women. He couldn’t have found out what that might entail until several months later.

Europe had been a triumph for Eddie. Everything kept building. The American tour. The European tour. More and more people knew the band. Much more when Cheryl’s feature came out in the Rolling Stone with Eddie and the Monsters on the cover, and Caroline’s photos brilliantly cohered made it a great cover. More and more of the crowd knew the songs. The album kept selling. The live single became a hit as much as an independently distributed forty five could be. Eddie the rock star emerged by the time the band came home, and Joanne sent them off to reap what they’d sown. A live album cobbled together from various sites, featuring the single of course, went with them. But not Joe. Cheryl and he had enough of Eddie and Rachel and their seductions and their joyous dissolution. Even if Eddie and the band almost always managed to be great for their two hours on stage. The longer the tour went, the less Cheryl and Joe spent with Eddie. Healthier that way.

And Joe had things to do. Putting Constance’s dance together. Finishing up a play to be staged by Morpheus after Constance’s show. Negotiating with the Public to have a far more professional staging of his first full length play.

Moe’s amateur performances of that play at the Public and Jennifer’s professional encouragement as a respected director had wetted their interest. Moe had done well with the minimal talent and expense, with her turn as the Rachel character being the highlight. Cheryl and her contract lawyer friend Scott joined Joe. And Scott, having researched the situation, pushed things to the maximum. Joe got the first big payment for his writing. It helped that they actually bought the use of two plays. It seemed Jennifer knew the director whose interest had been the most wetted and brought him the one act she’d staged, and he decided it had to be incorporated. Pre-sex switch, so an earlier version. Which meant, adding to Joe’s payment, needing him to come back to New York to work on the incorporating. It ended up making a good play an explosive one.

So he had a big payout. Money to deal with for the first time in his life, at least in one large lump sum. Which brought him to Sally. He went to Joanne’s workplace when he got back from New York. Went into Sally’s closet sized office. Placed the check on her desk.

“Nice,” she said.

“I’d like you to be my accountant.”

Her eyes remaining on the check, she asked, “Do you remember my terms?”

“Vaguely.”

“Meaning you vaguely remember?”

“I remember what you said.”

She looked at him and smiled. “You need me to spell it out?”

“Yes.”

“Do you have time?”

“Do you have time?”

She closed a file on her desk. “Let me check with the boss.”

Joanne said she had time.

“Lunch?” Sally asked him.

“Is that what you want?” he returned. “Lunch?”

She blushed. He’d said it in Joanne’s office. Joanne laughed. “Take the rest of the day off, Sally,” she said.

“Yes Ma’am,” Sally smiled, still blushing.

Outside the historic office building, Joe and Sally got hit by a brisk wind that made 10° Fahrenheit feel like below zero, realizing they hadn’t negotiated where they would negotiate.

“Where do you live?” he asked her.

“Next to Loring Park.” About seven to eight blocks away.

“One of those old townhouses?”

“One of the new apartment buildings. It’s actually a condo.”

“Nice?”

“It’s okay.”

“Car?”

“No. I like to walk.”

“Me too.”

Minnesotans. With enough layers and a good hat, a scarf for the face when it gets ultra-frigid, they can manage almost any temperature.

“I don’t want to go to my apartment,” she said as they started walking west.

“Oh?”

“Part of the negotiations.”

“Boyfriend?”

“Husband.”

“Kids?”

“One. She’s in kindergarten.”

“Can I ask... ?”

“Twenty-seven. I was pregnant when Joanne hired me. Just out of graduate school. No one else would touch me with a ten foot pole. Joanne sat me down with a problem. I solved it pretty quickly and she hired me. Helped me get my CPA. She’s a great woman.”

“Yes she is. She ever talk about our relationship?”

“No. We don’t talk much about personal stuff. Kids mostly. But I know you’re lovers. A girl can tell. I could tell when she was with Mr. Swenson. Mornings. Even after lunch. It’s different with you. I mean the way she looks at you. But, you know, she just seems more ... satisfied.”

“It could be some other man.”

“But it’s not, is it?”

“How do you know?”

“Expenses,” she smirked.

“Of course,” he laughed.

“I know you’re the man in her house. And, like I said, I could see it in her eyes when you’d come by the office. Even before you became her hired man.”

“There was another man before.”

“Eddie the rock star? Nope.”

“Hired man,” he shook his head.

“It’s what I want, Joe.”

“I’m just a gigolo,” he sang.

“I hope so.”

“Tell me,” he said, taking her gloved hand in his.

She sighed. “I’ve been with Jeff since high school. We were friends, and decided to be lovers. A dearth of choices. We really liked sex as you can imagine, being young and horny.”

“What do you mean a dearth of choices?”

“Look at me.”

“You’re shy.”

“I’m plain, Joe. This is ridiculous.” She broke their hand hold. “You’ve got Joanne. And Cheryl! She’s about the cutest girl I’ve ever seen, and sexy to boot. I mean I’m completely heterosexual, but she’s hot.”

“We’re negotiating, Sally,” Joe said. “Take my hand.”

“Don’t tease me.”

“I promise I’m not.” When they held hands again and continued their walk, he asked her, “Keep going.”

“Yeah, so I’m not much to look at, and neither is Jeff. He was chubby in high school. You know, the kind who gets chosen last for teams? Now he’s just fat. He managed to get the perfect job for him. Sitting at home all day. He tests computer games. He’s created two or three, but mostly he just tests others and gives advice. Sits at home and eats and plays games. At least he watches Toni.”

“Toni?”

“Antonia.”

“Pretty.”

“Yeah. He’s really good with her. Probably can relate to her, not having grown up.”

“But not to you?”

“No. I guess we’re pretty tired of each other. But ... Like I said, I really liked sex. I still do. A lot. And for that he’s useful. He’s highly sexed as well. He’s like a walking, talking dildo, and a lot of times I wish it was just the dildo. It’s the only part of him that turns me on. And I’m pretty sure he feels the same about me. I’ve found his stash of porno. Not just Playboy or Penthouse, but the hardcore stuff. And he got one of those new personal computers and I’ve snuck a look, and it’s like stories. Dirty stories. So I get him ready for me and we do it, and I think we’ve both got our eyes closed, fantasizing.”

She looked at Joe. It’s hard to tell between a blush and the cold, but it seemed pretty clear what her fantasy might be. Or who. He found it complimentary and helpful.

“I’ll admit,” she continued, “he’s almost always willing. But it’s always so ... perfunctory. I think it always has been. Once he gets off ... Even those second times when I get him back up and he lasts longer. Of course he’s in no shape for it, so I usually do the work. Just as well, all that lard on top of me. And I suppose it’s good exercise,” she laughed.

“You like your exercise,” he said.

“I walk and bounce,” she laughed again. “But I do work out. Take jazzercise a couple times a week after work. Jeff’s like a cautionary tale. And my job’s completely sedentary.”

“And you still think you need to settle.”

“Yes Joe, I do.”

“I know it’s strange considering where these negotiations are going, but I’m going to tell you about the women in my life.”

“Go ahead, Joe.”

“You know I’m married.”

“To Cheryl. Yeah. When Joanne told me you were getting married, I thought she’d be upset at the very least. She thought it was hysterical, but in a good way.”

“She did hunh?”

“She wasn’t laughing at you Joe. More that it just seemed crazy, the way you’re not in the least bit monogamous. I hope I didn’t screw up things.”

“You didn’t. I’ll have words with her, but ... we’ll get to that later. But yeah, Cheryl and I married not to proclaim our exclusivity. Neither one of us are. But to celebrate our bond. Our unassailable intimacy. Our utter trust in each other. And our love, which is the same thing, really. All those things.

“She fell in love with me before I got over my denseness and realized how perfect she was for me. And me for her. It started with a conversation that never ended. She’s a journalist and writes about local music scenes. The Minneapolis scene last summer, since she was home from NYU. She was checking out Eddie and the Monsters at the Longhorn. I was a Monster then.”

“You were?”

“Played bass. Eddie and I were best friends and we basically started the band. Eddie, being the genius rock star he is took it over and wisely kicked me out,” he laughed. “But Cheryl was there checking us out and wanting her interview. So we talked, and like I said, kept talking. I’m sure I was thinking when is she going to go to Eddie and interview him. I mean Eddie has a presence. He’s extremely seductive on stage. And here’s this cute, smart girl he’d love to chat up and ... you know. Like I said, I started dense with Cheryl, because she only wanted to talk to me. And it was the most effortless conversation I ever had. It just flowed in all kinds of directions. Never flagging. Always interesting.”

“You just thought she was cute?”

“More denseness. She’s like that cliché where a woman takes off her glasses and becomes beautiful. She wore these big clunky glasses. It was like a disguise. Like she didn’t want people to realize how stunning she is. And it worked with me. When I saw her, I saw glasses.

“Cheryl’s problem wasn’t yours, it sounds like. If you enjoy sex, I’m sure you have orgasms.”

“I guess I’m pretty easy that way,” she chuckled.

“It’s a gift I’m sure she wished she had. A lot of woman don’t get off fucking.”

“I’ve heard that. I guess I’m lucky at least about that.”

“You are. She’d had a few boyfriends. Not promiscuous. Not all that many. Not one of them made her cum. It frustrated her, as you can imagine, and I think it pissed her off that the guy could just get off, roll over and sleep. Or think somehow it was enough for some fucking reason. She really resented men. Only girls seemed to get her off. Mostly a friend in high school. Which only confused her, because she didn’t see herself as lesbian. Bisexual to be sure, but men attracted her.

“Then she met me. I guess I have a gift as well, maybe opposite to yours and ironically sort of like Cheryl. It takes me a while to cum. I mean I’ve had quickies, but I guess I can hold back enough to make sure the girl gets what she deserves. I believe fucking is never about the man getting off. That’s just too easy. And it ends things, you know? Who wants to end things that feel so damned good, or should?

“So eventually we had sex,” he laughed. “I think part of it was how close we’d gotten just talking. Like I said, she loved me first, and it was that first night we talked. We talked all night. Talked past sunrise. Intimacy, or its lack, was probably part of the problem. And also I love cunnilingus, so a lot of tongue got her closer. But it still took a while.

“After she finally climaxed, and the intensity brought me over as well, she freaked out.”

“What? Isn’t that what she wanted?”

“That and the intimacy. But this was summer. She’d be going back to NYU in a month, presumably never to see me again. She was scared. Scared I’d broken her heart, or would. Inevitably. Even so, she didn’t want things to end. She loved me. Loved the conversations. So she figured she’d have to find some distance, at least during sex.”

“What do you mean?”

“A surrogate wall. A woman. Someone to lessen the intimacy I guess.”

“I guess it didn’t work since you’re married.”

“Maybe it would have if I hadn’t convinced her to quit school, or she convinced me not to start school yet, or we convinced each other. Mostly it came down to me waking up and seeing my true love right in front of me. That happened with just the two of us, so maybe those female walls did keep some distance.”

“Was one of those walls Joanne?”

“Yes. The first and the most frequent.”

“So Joanne likes women?”

“Her favorite lover besides me is a woman. Although the woman tends to treat Joanne like a man would.”

“What do you mean?”

“The woman wears a strap on.”

“Oh. Are you there too?”

“Sometimes.”

“Where?”

“Sometimes her mouth. Sometimes her pussy while the woman fucks her ass. Occasionally the other way around.”

“Oh. Has she done it with two men?”

“Yes. But Eddie’s just too thick for her ass.”

“So ... you fuck her ass ... while Eddie...”

“Yes. Not anymore, but we used to.”

“He couldn’t...”

“Eddie? No thanks. We’re not the friends we used to be.”

“Any other men?”

“No. I guess I’m a ladies man,” he chuckled. “But imagination is a wonderful thing.”

“I don’t know.”

“That’s fine. Let’s move on.”

“What about Joanne?”

“What about her.”

“Are ... are you going to punish her?”

“Why do you ask that?”

“When you heard about her laughing.”

“How would I punish her?”

“A ... spanking?”

“Anything else?”

“Uhm...”

“I’ve probably said too much about my relationship to your boss.”

“I won’t say anything.”

“I know you won’t, but I’m not going to talk about her anymore. If she wants you to know, you can ask her. It’s up to her to tell you.”

“Okay.”

“Okay. Let’s talk about punishment and someone who often needs to be punished.”

Joe talked to her about Constance. About Lori and car sex. About Freddy and being sucked while driving and fucking in a possibly public place. And watching others getting fucked. And back to Cheryl and her love of marathon sex.

“How long have you gone with her?” she asked.

“Maybe four hours?” Joe didn’t tell her heroin had assisted him.

The fact that she seemed to avoid having women involved seriously limited the choices.

Joe concluded she wanted lots of loving. Intimacy and being appreciated for a long time. Some spanking but nothing more extreme. And definitely being fucked by two men. The only man he could think of, who he could trust was in Chicago. Simon. Another day. But maybe one surprise. Nigella was at Joanne’s.

“You like anal sex?” Joe asked.

“I love it but not all the time.”

“Understandable.”

“And definitely with a vibrator buzzing my clit.”

“But two cocks would be better?”

“Fuck Joe, I thought you said you wouldn’t tease me.”

They were at Joanne’s.

Sally blushed when she saw Cheryl and averted her eyes.

“Hi Sally,” said Cheryl coming up to them and kissing Joe. He shook his head when she planned to kiss Sally. “Too bad,” Cheryl mouthed. He shrugged.

Leaning beside her ear, Joe whispered, “Can you ask Nigella if she could visit us in about an hour?”

Cheryl pantomimed a cock and he nodded. She giggled. “Have fun you two.”

“Uhm,” said Sally.

“Come on, Sally,” he said. “We have negotiating to do.”

That made her smile and get braver.

“Yes we do.”

They went into the guest bedroom. He stripped her and kissed her where her body became revealed. She was thick in the middle, but had amazing breasts, and her ass matched. Full and firm. Both on the large size. His ass fetish definitely included her size.

He guided her onto her back on the bed, her legs hanging off the foot, and dove for her lightly hairy pussy. Blonde like her head. He wanted to find out how fast she came. Fast.

“God,” she exclaimed. “You’re a fucking artist,” and she turned around and pulled down pants and underpants. “God that’s beautiful,” she said when his long semi thick cock popped out. She got on her knees and examined it thoroughly. Her tongue doing the examining soon enough. Followed by her lips.

“You’re bigger,” she said before continuing the blow job. She started tentative, probably adjusting for size, but became enthusiastic. He had to sit. He stripped off the rest of his clothes. “Nice,” she said with her mouth full, smiling up at him. Her hands went up and caressed his torso.

Eventually she pushed him back and began to straddle him. “Condom?” he asked.

“I’m safe. Just one sedentary man. You?”

“Yes,” he said and she immediately sank down on his cock. For a thick girl she was tight. “Fuck,” he exclaimed.

Tight and hot. And her interior seemed to cling to him. Like getting double fucked.

She started slow, feeling him inside, but soon she was bouncing vigorously. He lay back and watched her large breasts bobbing hypnotically. When she leaned down a little and seemed to have found the spot, she careened towards ecstasy. He sacrificed the breast show for some assistance, slowly increasing pressure on her fat nipples. She could take considerable pressure. He stopped at a point, and she said, “A little more,” so he pinched a little harder. Her bouncing shortened and quickened until she found her release. Her interior did all it could to milk him of his sperm, nearly succeeding.

Looking up at her blushing face, her soft smile plumping her cheeks, her nose subtly freckled, her eyes mostly open, showing the almost golden brown color, and back to the mouth, stretched wide, wider than normal, a cocksucker’s mouth, and with her abundant breast and ass flesh and her miraculously tight and active pussy, muscles developed to squeeze, he had an epiphany, like a flash of LSD insight. She might not have been beautiful, or even all that pretty, but she was sex personified. Like some kind of tribal idol of the female form at its most lascivious made flesh. She was made to fuck.

So he fucked her. Turned her over. Shoved deep. Thrust after thrust. Fast. Hard. Pounding into her. Hands on her ass. Face on her tits. Sucking. Nipping. Loving. “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck,” she repeated with each thrust. Totally into it. Until she screamed, “Joe!” Arching against his last thrusts. Until he pressed even deeper than he’d gone and released a torrent into her womb.

“Wow,” she murmured, pulling him down and kissing him. Lips loose and hot.

He pulled back. Gazed into her eyes. “You’re fucking sexy as hell, Sally. Time to let the world know.”

“No Joe,” she said. “Let it be our little secret.”

“Why?”

“Because I just need a stud like you to tell me. You liked my kegel exercises?”

“You were amazing.”

“Just for you Joe.”

“Why me?”

“You really think I’m sexy?”

“You’re amazingly sexy.”

“You want to fuck me?”

“Anytime you want.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

She pulled him into another kiss. This one lasted a while. Tongues came out and played. His penis, still inside her, began feeling those inner muscles again. And it made it grow. He began to move, slow this time. Getting harder.

He finally ended the kiss. “I want to see your sexy ass,” he said.

It meant briefly separating. But Joe was soon back in. Long, smooth strokes. Fingers finding clit. Fingers pulling on nipples. Moving her slowly to her next climax. He helped it along with a few spanks.

Nigella came in wearing her strap on. She handed Joe the KY and he pushed the lube into her ass.

“Joe,” Sally moaned. “You going to fuck my ass?”

“No. Your pussy is mine. No, don’t look.” He slipped out and slid beneath her. Nigella put him back in. “Don’t look,” he insisted.

“Oh my god I love you,” she moaned as Nigella pushed the fake cock into her asshole.

Once she pushed in deep and began thrusting mostly counter to his thrusts, since he pulled Sally down on him, he told Nigella, “Give that fine ass a good spanking, Nigel.”

Already ferociously excited, four spanks later, Sally growled and grunted through the most intense orgasm for her that day, which was saying a lot. Though gone stiff and unmoving as she trembled, Joe continued taking charge of the fuck. Pulling her down on him. Lifting her up. Not as fast, or as hard an impact when their crotches met, just keeping it up, with Nigella’s counter thrusts brought Sally over again and again. Less her kegel muscle trained interior grasping, the fluttering and pulsing of her orgasmic pussy took its toll on him, and he could no longer hold back. Pulling her down and keeping her down, he throbbed out his cum. Nigella kept thrusting, and her fake cock seemed to coax the most out of his balls via his shaft being pressed and slid against. She must have brought one with the phalanges stroking her clit, because when she finally stopped, she growled and trembled too.

“Fuck Joe,” Sally muttered. “That was almost too much. Ooh.” She reacted to Nigella’s withdrawal. “She’s a girl, isn’t she?”

“Sally, meet Nigella.”

“Hi,” said Nigella, leaning forward and kissing Sally’s cheek.

“Hi,” said Sally, too worn out to be shy. “I’ve seen you before. Are you the one who fucks Joanne?”

“Joe,” Nigella scolded him.

“Sorry. But Joanne might have figured things would come up.”

“Sally, you keep this shit to yourself.”

“I will. I’m not much for gossip.”

“Good. Nice ass,” Nigella said, giving Sally’s ass one more spank. “See you guys,” and she unstrapped and put on a robe and walked out of the bedroom.

“She’s Eddie’s bassist,” Sally said.

“Yep.”

“You know I won’t say anything.”

“I know.”

“And you’re right, imagination’s a good thing. But if you could find a guy...”

“We’ll see.”

“There’ll be another time?”

“As long as you’re my accountant.”

They laughed. And kissed. He started getting hard again and she chuckled. “I don’t think I’ve said this before, but I think you wore me out Joe.”

“As long as you enjoyed it.”

“I loved it. Thanks.”

“Believe me, it was my pleasure.”

“Really?”

“Sally,” he sighed. “I’m not much for bullshit. I’ll always be truthful with you.”

“All you’ve been is nice Joe. Nothing about me being a plain little mouse. Nothing about my tummy and my stretch marks.”

“What would be the point?”

“The point is if you’re being honest, shouldn’t you be honest about everything?”

“Being honest doesn’t mean being cruel. My focus is giving you the best time I can. And, not incidentally, having a great time myself. Being critical would be the opposite of what I intend. You do enough of that already. What I mean about being honest is any praise I give you is honest praise. I won’t say it unless I feel it’s true.”

“It’s just ... I’m not used to praise. Especially my body.”

“I know, and that’s why we’re here.”

“I thought it was payment.”

“You haven’t done anything for me yet.”

“Call it a retainer.”

They laughed.

“But seriously,” she sighed, “What do you mean why we’re here?”

Joe sighed as well. “It’s something you need. And more importantly you deserve. Being loved. Being appreciated.”

“Loved?”

Joe chuckled. “I know. That word’s got a ton of weight. It’s the point of getting to know you before knowing you becomes biblical, to use a euphemism. I know our chat was one sided, although I did get to know you and your life and your ... struggles. But the point of bringing up all those sexual encounters was to feel you out, so to speak. To find out what you might be interested in.”

“My kinks.”

“Exactly. And your fantasies.”

“It also made me horny. Or hornier,” she giggled.

“Also intentional.”

“Verbal foreplay.”

“Exactly.”

“Not that I needed it the way you went down on me.”

“I wanted to find out how responsive you actually were.”

“A test?”

“Yes.”

“And the stories were tests too.”

“Yes.”

“Sounds very scientific.”

“I suppose it does, but it really wasn’t. You aren’t some test subject or an experiment. Definitely not some poor mouse like you say you are.”

“No plans to dissect me?”

“Now that would be counterproductive. I love your body just the way it is. Completely intact.”

“There you go again loving my body.”

“I know. And I know you keep doubting me. Can you do something for me?”

“Anything Joe. And I mean anything.”

“Anything?”

“Yes.”

“That takes a lot of trust.”

“I trust you, Joe.”

“I did trick you.”

“You mean Nigella? That was incredible. You did that for me Joe. Even insisting I don’t look at her. Keeping the illusion. Of course if it was a guy, he’d have a real cock. But it felt so amazing. Just like you knew it would. I didn’t care.”

“It might have been a step too far.”

“No. It was perfect.”

“Good.”

“I’ve wanted you Joe. I guess you figured that out. I guess I’d have done anything to have what happened happen. It was so far beyond what I fantasized about. Like between a really nice house and a fucking cathedral. I mean you’re a really great lover. And I’m quite fond of your body. But it was more than that. I thought I’d be a nervous little mouse. I never was. I wouldn’t call myself relaxed,” she giggled. “I needed to be fucked too much to be relaxed. I guess being nervous means I’d have been worried. I never was. I trusted you. I guess in a way you made me trust you.”