legs
crossed behind her interlocked fingers, but John could see the flush of deep
rose beneath her dark skin. Satiation lay behind her half-smile. He might not
ever see her like this again, postcoital satisfaction softly relaxing her
gorgeous face, and he couldn’t stop to enjoy it now because of the brilliant
predicament he’d put them both in.
“On a scale of one to ten…?” He let the question trail off,
hoping it spoke for itself.
“Hmm. An eight, I think. Very good.” She bit her lip
thoughtfully. “But I think there’s more to be had.”
John’s cock twitched, hearing a challenge in her voice. He
swallowed hard as he turned back to his notes and wished for a cup of ice to
chew on.
She’d come another three times that night—four seemed to be
about average for her nights with Tal—and John let the recorder do most of the
work as he wavered between visualizing her with Tal and concentrating on the
notes he’d already taken. For a moment, he’d forgotten the pills had been slow
to work at first. The delay didn’t seem to hurt their performance, but it
troubled him all the same.
His response to Grace tonight troubled him too. He had his
share of fantasies about her and then some, but tonight his thoughts of voyeurism
had led his mind in a very different direction, and his body hadn’t minded the
diversion at all.
He looked up from his notes and tried to get back on track.
“You know, I really can’t thank you enough for your help with this.”
The sound of her laughter, empty of the heavy sexual tension
that had made the room feel both intimate and confining, reassured him. “I
should thank you. This has really been a game changer for me.”
“How so?”
“I feel kind of weird afterward. It’s really different now,
since I don’t want to sleep anymore.”
John wrote, postcoital restlessness on his page of
notes. “Good different?”
Grace’s mouth made that thoughtful curl again. “Just
different. It’s like that feeling you get after a good workout. Tired, maybe,
but not sleepy.”
He’d half-expected this after their last meeting, when she’d
reported not feeling sleepy. Other women had reported having arguments—shortly
before they left the study altogether—and maybe this was why. Without afterglow
or fatigue, there’d be nothing left but honesty.
“Did you go home again?” He indulged the hope that she had,
that she’d awakened late on Saturday morning in her own bed instead of Tal’s.
“No, I stayed. Tal wasn’t sleeping either, so we started
talking.”
Without thinking, he asked, “What about?”
“You, mostly.”
John cast a sidelong glance across the table at her. Gr eat . Just what he’d hoped for. “What about me?”
She leaned over and put her elbows on the table. “Okay, Tal
thinks this is the best invention in the world. That’s why he has all these
questions about it. I don’t think he was buying your reasons for not doing all
the testing yourself.”
Tal would probably always be skeptical, naturally. John just
couldn’t figure out why he’d keep complaining when things were coming up so
well for him. He set the legal pad and pencil down onto the table and got ready
to deliver the party line again, but Grace stepped in first.
“It’s all right though. I think I explained everything to
him, so he gets it now.”
Why didn’t that reassure him? “What exactly did you explain
to him?” John asked.
“I told him you weren’t like that. You know what I mean.”
“What is that supposed to mean?” Sure, he’d surprised
himself a moment ago by fantasizing about watching from an alley as another man
bent his best friend over a desk. But surprises like that were intellectually
healthy.
“Just that—”
“I mean, I’m not a Boy Scout or something.”
“No, no, of course not. I just meant that you’re not that
type.” She seemed to retreat from the table, sitting on her hands. “You know.
The type who would do it in the back of a
crossed behind her interlocked fingers, but John could see the flush of deep
rose beneath her dark skin. Satiation lay behind her half-smile. He might not
ever see her like this again, postcoital satisfaction softly relaxing her
gorgeous face, and he couldn’t stop to enjoy it now because of the brilliant
predicament he’d put them both in.
“On a scale of one to ten…?” He let the question trail off,
hoping it spoke for itself.
“Hmm. An eight, I think. Very good.” She bit her lip
thoughtfully. “But I think there’s more to be had.”
John’s cock twitched, hearing a challenge in her voice. He
swallowed hard as he turned back to his notes and wished for a cup of ice to
chew on.
She’d come another three times that night—four seemed to be
about average for her nights with Tal—and John let the recorder do most of the
work as he wavered between visualizing her with Tal and concentrating on the
notes he’d already taken. For a moment, he’d forgotten the pills had been slow
to work at first. The delay didn’t seem to hurt their performance, but it
troubled him all the same.
His response to Grace tonight troubled him too. He had his
share of fantasies about her and then some, but tonight his thoughts of voyeurism
had led his mind in a very different direction, and his body hadn’t minded the
diversion at all.
He looked up from his notes and tried to get back on track.
“You know, I really can’t thank you enough for your help with this.”
The sound of her laughter, empty of the heavy sexual tension
that had made the room feel both intimate and confining, reassured him. “I
should thank you. This has really been a game changer for me.”
“How so?”
“I feel kind of weird afterward. It’s really different now,
since I don’t want to sleep anymore.”
John wrote, postcoital restlessness on his page of
notes. “Good different?”
Grace’s mouth made that thoughtful curl again. “Just
different. It’s like that feeling you get after a good workout. Tired, maybe,
but not sleepy.”
He’d half-expected this after their last meeting, when she’d
reported not feeling sleepy. Other women had reported having arguments—shortly
before they left the study altogether—and maybe this was why. Without afterglow
or fatigue, there’d be nothing left but honesty.
“Did you go home again?” He indulged the hope that she had,
that she’d awakened late on Saturday morning in her own bed instead of Tal’s.
“No, I stayed. Tal wasn’t sleeping either, so we started
talking.”
Without thinking, he asked, “What about?”
“You, mostly.”
John cast a sidelong glance across the table at her. Gr eat . Just what he’d hoped for. “What about me?”
She leaned over and put her elbows on the table. “Okay, Tal
thinks this is the best invention in the world. That’s why he has all these
questions about it. I don’t think he was buying your reasons for not doing all
the testing yourself.”
Tal would probably always be skeptical, naturally. John just
couldn’t figure out why he’d keep complaining when things were coming up so
well for him. He set the legal pad and pencil down onto the table and got ready
to deliver the party line again, but Grace stepped in first.
“It’s all right though. I think I explained everything to
him, so he gets it now.”
Why didn’t that reassure him? “What exactly did you explain
to him?” John asked.
“I told him you weren’t like that. You know what I mean.”
“What is that supposed to mean?” Sure, he’d surprised
himself a moment ago by fantasizing about watching from an alley as another man
bent his best friend over a desk. But surprises like that were intellectually
healthy.
“Just that—”
“I mean, I’m not a Boy Scout or something.”
“No, no, of course not. I just meant that you’re not that
type.” She seemed to retreat from the table, sitting on her hands. “You know.
The type who would do it in the back of a
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