Chapter Three

Emily took Saturday to ponder what was going on, to regroup.  Jake did his weekend hobbies, and she did, as well.  They were casually affectionate when they met in the course of wandering about, and they had lunch together, but she couldn’t help but replay the prior night’s events in her head.  It made her a bit humid down below, to be honest, to be thinking about what he’d said, what she’d said... but she forced restraint on herself, made herself retain observer status and watch him.  Nothing seemed changed, which was all to the good as she didn’t expect anything altered in normal interactions, but it certainly made her wonder whether there was any effect at all.  She pushed back on her curiosity and decided she would find out eventually.  There was no rush.

Jocelyn texted her in the afternoon, standard fare about what was going on with her this weekend, but then she tagged a question on the end that recalled their earlier conversation and made her blush: How is the oral servitude going?  Jake still getting a side of chores with his... entree?

You’re bad! Emily responded.  It’s not like that.

A shame.  Getting your carpet munched while not having to worry about who will do the dishes sounds divine to me.

I’m not going to dignify that with a response.

You just did.

Fuck off.

<3

So, even as she intended to keep things at a light data collection level that day, the interaction with her best friend was not letting her avoid the intrusive thoughts surfacing into awareness.  Though her arousal was superficial at best that evening, curiosity was getting the better of her, killing her... cat.  Despite her self-admonitions, she wanted to play again with her shiny new toy.  See if it was still as cool as she remembered, now that she’d read the manual a little closer.

As twilight transitioned to night, they scrounged the fridge for leftovers, selecting the most promising and casting out those which hadn’t aged well.  Jake had the pulled pork, making an absurd sandwich between two halves of a bagel, and Emily ate a chicken salad and boiled up some ramen.  They had a dinner heavy on affection but easy on the romance: no candlelight, tonight, but toes stroked calves to remind one another they were there while they read independently.  

After the food had been reduced to crumbs they adjourned to the sofa, where Emily did some cross-stitch and Jake smashed various virtual candies together on his tablet to form colorful explosions of sugary goodness.  Some 80s playlist played on the smart speakers as background music as she watched him play the video game, his eyes scanning but with a hint of the mindlessness she now knew to be a state of his.  Her gaze played on his face surreptitiously over the rims of her reading glasses as she tried to divine how his mind could work so intensively yet reflexively, and what in his psyche made him so vulnerable to...  

She almost surprised herself when she took off her glasses and set them aside with a sigh.  “Mmmmmmmmm... when should we go to bed, baby?”

He didn’t even glance up.  “I dunno.  What time is it now?”

“Quarter to ten.”

“Still early.”

“I think it’s late.”

He wrested his eyes from the screen.  “Oh?  Late for what?”

“For what I have in mind.”

His eyebrows raised.  “Again, tonight?  Who are you and what have you done with my wife?”

“Hey, I have been known to have... needs... many nights in a row.”

“When?”

“Keep it up, mister, and tonight will definitely not be one of those nights.”

He held up his hands to ward off negativity.  “Hey, let’s not be hasty!”

“‘Hasty’.  You’ve spent all day fiddling with your stupid stereo equipment.  You could have been fiddling with your wife.”

“Wow.  I mean... yes, true, but how was I to know that my... affections were welcome?”

“The man should just know.”

“I think that’s pretty unreasonable...” He trailed off as he realized what he was talking himself out of.  “You know what?  Never mind.  I’m good.”

“You’d better be.”

They embraced, him kissing the side of her neck as he held her close.  “Hold my beer.”

He slipped his hands up her t-shirt and onto her braless breasts, cupping them in his palms and letting casual friction tease her nipples rather than purposeful action.  She leaned back against him, pressing her rear into his groin with obvious intent and turning her head to intercept his lips with her own as he went in for another suckle toward her collarbone.  They entangled themselves in each other for moments, then his hand went to the ties of her sweat pants, undoing them.  He followed up with the other hand, sliding beneath her waistband and into the pantiless expanse beneath.  

She moaned appreciatively.  “I love your fingers, darling... but I think you know I’d love something else more.”

His eyes lit up at her meaning, and he wasted no time removing her pants entirely and carelessly casting them across the room.  He looked down at what his handiwork had revealed and sighed happily.  She noted that even now, before he had begun his efforts on her behalf, he was starting to look positively fixated, his pupils wide.  

“See something you want, lover?”  The way he was looking at her, at that part of her... She’d started out tentative and mischievous, but his responsiveness was rapidly getting her into the groove of this. She whispered, “You crave my pussy, don't you?”

“My God, yes,” he growled. She could smell herself.  He inhaled and looked hungry.

Her mood was fierce.  “More than crave: you... worship it.”

“I—” He hesitated for an instant.  “I do.”  Any embarrassment he might have felt at this admission was crushed by his lust.

Her lips curled into a smirk and she felt her eyes try to roll back into her head as a tiny thrill ran up her spine. She recovered her composure enough to continue. “That's good, lover. That's very, very good.” She cupped his chin in her hands to make him look up at her. “Stare into my eyes, then,” she said, slowly and lasciviously as she shifted her palms to the back of his head, pulling him in closer with a force she didn't need but which was born of the impatience of desire, “as you worship...” She was crossing over a threshold here and she knew it and she couldn’t stop it.  “...and obey.”

She was more surprised than he was; unfazed by the shift in her words, he sank his face between her thighs and stared up at her and, goddess, did he worship her! Or worship her cunt, to be exact, but at the moment there was no distinguishing for her. He sank into that strange, dreamy state she’d seen in him of late, where his eyes went all glassy and there seemed to be nothing for him but Emily's pussy... how she smelled, tasted, felt... she was his everything. Heat ran from her sex up to her nipples and darkened the flush of her face as he pleasured her, and as she approached her first orgasm the feeling of power rose within her.  She pushed him gently back onto the carpet and straddled his head with her thighs.  She felt as if she should be more seductive here, more erotic and less pornographic, but impatience and ardor refused to allow her to slowly, tantalizingly bring her cunt to his mouth as she envisioned.  No, she adopted the new position without ceremony or display, just gently but firmly rested her pussy on his mouth and began to ride.

This was not usual; she’d only ever accepted oral from him sitting or lying down.  Facesitting was a concept she was aware of but it had never made sense in the context of their lovemaking.  There had been no need for it in their dynamic; from the beginning of their love, it had been entirely a mutual thing: he gave to her freely and enthusiastically, she didn’t need to take.

Now it seemed inevitable to her.  And soul-crushingly hot.  

His hands gripped the cheeks of her ass in an attempt to guide her motions, to hold her in place for his tongue, but instead she ground onto him with her hips, using his mouth as a toy for her pleasure, controlling the pace and the pattern of motion.  Using him.  

“You’re worshipping me,” she whispered.  “You’re... obeying...”  His eyes met hers and the complete openness there, the lack of protest, told her it was true.

She came quickly, and didn’t stop coming for a long while afterward.

***

She hadn’t taken it any further that night; she’d experienced a light sense of embarrassment for how out of control she felt she’d gotten, and had taken him to bed for a hard fuck and a cuddle.  He wasn’t entranced for that part... not quite, anyway; but the residual effects of his earlier experience beneath her had given him a compliant air that was almost as good.  He had been fully awake for this, yes, but seemed extra-focused on her reactions and each little sound she made, extra-attentive.  He’d spent into her as she moaned into his mouth, and while she hadn’t quite orgasmed that last time, she’d felt an oozing pleasure just watching him lose control.  As they’d eased into slumber together, she’d borne a satisfied grin, and she assumed so had he.

The next morning, Sunday, had dawned bright but cold, and the light snow on the driveway impelled him to shovel.  She watched from the kitchen as he put his strong shoulders to work, and sighed in reflection on last night.  It had been so normal, in some ways, but in others so new.  So unlike her, to take her pleasure in him with such assertiveness; she was no timid wallflower in bed, but she couldn’t pretend it was usual for her to take the lead.  She wasn’t sure it was something she wanted every time, but could not deny the intensity of the heat she’d felt in those moments when he’d surrendered his will to her and just—

obeyed

—did as she’d asked.  She wanted to understand what her feelings were, was half-tempted to message Jocelyn about it, but how to broach that topic...?  You were wrong.  He’s definitely hypnotized when he eats me out and now I’m starting to enjoy being in control of him.  She shivered at the admission, even if only within her own thoughts, and deliberately avoided messaging apps all day.  

Toward evening, after she’d distracted herself with crafting projects and even an hour’s worth of catching up on work, she conceded to the demands of her emotions and typed in, “Definitely need to meet up for wine soon.”  Mercifully there was no interrogation and responses flew back and forth, plans made for Tuesday evening at their customary wine sink.

With all that off her proverbial shoulders, she relaxed back into the evening and watched a movie with Jake.  The normalcy of it all was comforting, though she ultimately couldn’t help but inquire after his side of the last night’s experience.  “When we... made love last night... things were a little... different, weren’t they?”

“Heh.  Maybe a little.  You were definitely in a different head space.”

She bit her tongue rather than declaring how ironic his statement was.  “Yeah, a little.  What did you... what did you think?”

“I thought it was hot, honey.  I like you to want me, to want me to do things to you, to please you.”  To worship you, he didn’t say, not outright, but the words lurked at the edges of her consciousness.

“It wasn’t... too much, having me so... demanding like that?”

“Ha.  Not in the slightest.  I enjoyed myself tremendously from what I can recall.”

She was half-amused, half-curious with her response.  “From what you can recall?”

He shrugged the question off.  “Sure.  The details blur.  They always do.  You know what I mean.”

She thought she did, from his perspective, but definitely not from hers; she remembered every moment of that experience in razor-sharp detail.  Maybe her emotions were fuzzier to think back on, but not the hands and the words.  And the mouth.  “Sure,” she replied.  “I get it.”  She suddenly had an urge for candor she couldn’t control.  “I’ve...”  He looked at her expectantly.  “I've noticed something odd happening lately when you... go down on me. You... um... start to get this glazed look in your eyes, sort of like... a deep meditation or something.”

“Wait... what?” he replied, looking puzzled.  “That sounds... bizarre.  What specifically are you noticing?”

“Well... at first it seemed to be just a general kind of focus on me and my body, but recently, there have been moments when you... seem to lose track of where you are, as if you're becoming very focused and completely absorbed in what you're doing. I thought maybe I had hypnotized you somehow...”

“I think I'd remember if you had put me under hypnosis!”

She chuckled nervously and brushed hair out of her face with one hand. “Not if I programmed you not to.”

He gave her a look beneath skeptical brows and she giggled uncomfortably.

“But what if... what if we're doing it without realizing it, you know? Anyway, I wanted to try an experiment. It was an easy thing to test... I started telling you to do things while in that... state.”

“Like lick you to orgasm?”

“Honey, it doesn't take hypnotism to get you to do that.”

He laughed. “Touché.”

“Things to do later. You... um... cleaned the garage the next day.”  A lie.  A little white lie; it felt less awkward than confessing the other things she’d instructed him to do, both accidentally and on purpose.

“Hey, I told you I'd get around to it!”

“And I'm sure you would have, dear. Eventually. But when I told you to do it while you were all daze-y from... pleasing me... well, 'eventually' came sooner than expected. So did I.”

“Huh?”

She felt suddenly, irrationally embarrassed. This wasn’t a conversation she had planned out very well.  Or at all, really.  “It... maybe turned me on a little to think I was controlling your mind. It was... good for my libido, let's say. I came pretty fast and hard from that. And often, that night.”

“Wow. I didn’t know you had a kink for mind-control, kiddo.  That... definitely wasn’t even on my bingo card.”

“Neither did I. But I think I... might, now.”

“That's hot.”

“You say that about all my kinks.”

“That's because you're hot.”

“Flattery will get you nowhere.”

“What about my tongue? Will that get me somewhere?” 

You have no idea.  “Don't tempt me, loverboy. I’ll put you to work.”

“Promises, promises.”

“I didn’t mean that kind of work.  I’ll have my hobby room painted by next weekend.”

“Ha. You’re hilarious.”

She was well on her way to opening her legs and giving orders as proof against his disbelief, but she stopped when a smidge of guilt rose past her defenses.  “Yeah,” she replied instead. “I’m glad you find all of this amusing.”

“Baby, I love you.  And will be happy to indulge your new little fetish if it gets you off.  Is there a pocket watch you want me to buy you?”

“No.  I have other ways.”

“You definitely do.”  He kissed her, then pointedly glanced down at her lap.  “Want to try... hypnotizing me tonight?”

“I’m... too tired.”  And too suspicious of my own motivations right now.

He mocked great disappointment, though she was not at all certain it was entirely mockery.  “Ah, well... Another night, then... mistress!”

“We can go with ‘milady’.”

“Ooooooh... how medieval.”

“Bedtime, you big goofball.”

“Your loss.”

Possibly.  If her thoughts weren’t so introspective right now, and more horny, she might have taken him up on it, but her lusts were guarded, slow tonight.  He wasn’t taking this seriously, and maybe that was worrisome.  Or maybe it was just fine.  Who was being hurt here?

She rose, kissed him on the forehead, and called, “Bed!” over her shoulder.  

The night ended quietly.

***

Tuesday rolled around and once her work was done she dressed up for her wine date with Jocelyn.

“Mmmmmm... Are we having a special night tonight?” Jake said as he came home and into their bedroom as she was applying her makeup.  “You look scrumptious.”  He slid his hand up the back of her thigh into her skirt.

She shrieked, but successfully avoided a mascara mishap.  “That tickles!”

“Sorrynotsorry.”  He grinned at her.

She exaggerated her exasperation for effect.  “For your information, perv, I’m headed out with Jocelyn tonight.”

“I am jealous.”

“I thought you told me she’s not your type.”

“I’m jealous of her, dumbass.  She gets to look at this sexy woman all night.  While I will stay home, pining away for you.  O, woe!”

“You’ll be fine.”

“Pining!  Woe!”

She turned away from the mirror as she closed her cosmetics drawer.  “You’ll,” she repeated, putting her arms around his shoulders and kissing him deeply, “be fine.”

“I’m fine right now, you know.  Not pining at all.”

“Good.  Keep the bed warm for me.”

“I’ll jump into it right now.”

“And make sure you get yourself something to eat.”

“If you stayed, I would,” he grinned, the innuendo blatant.

“I—” She considered orgasms versus wine and couldn’t decide, but it was her best friend, and Jake... would still be here when she returned.  “Jocelyn is expecting me.”

“I knew you loved her more.  Are you sleeping with her?”

“Sometimes.  Just like you and Timothy.”

“Hey, that’s just... you weren’t supposed to know.  It was just between us guys.  Did he tell you?”

“I hired a detective.”

“Damn, you play hardball.”

“Catch you later, love.”

“Tell Jocelyn I said ‘hi’.”

“I will.  Tell Timothy I said ‘I’m a better lay’.”

“Whoa!  That’s so mean. He’ll be so hurt. Why you gotta hate?”

***

“You’re late.”

“By like one minute.”

“I’m halfway through my drink already.”

“Oh?  Must have been only thirty seconds then.  If it was a minute you’d be on your second already, you lush.”

“Good to see you too, baby.  Siddown.  I already ordered for you, see?”

“Is that Desmesne Sirine?”

“Who loves ya?”

“My best fucking friend.”

“Exactly.”

They embraced, cheek kissed, then sat in synchrony.  “How are things?”

“Beauteous.  My sister is getting a divorce, my mother wants me to let her live with me.”

“Ye gods.  You said no, right?”

“Mmmmmaybe.”

“You didn’t say no.”

“I—she used Ebby.”

“What does your old cat have to do with that?”

“We took her in after she got abandoned by her old family.  Mom said it was the same thing.”

“An abandoned cat is the same as your sister cheating on her husband?”

“That’s only alleged.”

“Your sister is an alley cat.  I am starting to see the parallel now.”

“See?  Mom was right after all.”

“I don’t think that was what she was going for.”

“Don’t worry.  Celise is allergic to dogs.”

“You don’t have a dog.”

“I will.”

“Keeping your sister from moving in is a terrible reason to get a dog.”

“Maybe, but wook at dat faaaace...”  Jocelyn flipped her phone around and showed her a photo from a shelter website.

“You’re nuts.”

“His name is Rimshot.”  Emily just stared.  “Yeah, I think it’s dumb, too.  I think he looks like a ‘Sebastian’, don’t you?”

There was no answer outside of her wine glass, so she sought it within.  It didn’t seem to be in the first few sips, at least, so she looked harder, this time utilizing gulps.

“So... enough about my problems.  Sisters, dogs, pussycats.  How is your... kitty?”

Emily coughed into her glass.  “Excuse me?”

“You heard me.  Last we spoke you were enjoying extra smoochies to your coochie and getting chores done to boot.”

“I would say that was ridiculously crude but I know for a fact you can do worse.”

“And I will unless you cough up the latest details.”

“What’s there to tell?”  Emily had known this would be a topic of conversation, but she had expected to bring it up herself, in her own way.

“Oh, so much.  So very, very much.  Were there any more... incidents?”

“You make it sound so... clinical.”

“Patient presents with acute... cunni...philia, coupled with... high suggestibility when... snacking on his wife’s naughty parts?”

“Your bedside manner is really not great.”

“There’s a reason I didn’t go into med school like Dad wanted.”  She smirked and swirled her wine in her mouth.  “So: incidents!”

“Incidents.”  Emily mitigated her own gulps, or tried to.  “After we talked, I... I watched.  And asked a little.  He... he wasn’t doing that stuff as some kind of misguided way of impressing me with chores to get more sex.”

“Damn.  I mean, I was thinking it was a good plan.  Timothy would get many more blowjobs if he cleaned the toilets regularly.”

“Have you told him this?”

“No, but I so am, now. This could change everything!”

“Just... I’m invoking best friend privilege on this one, okay?”

“I get it.  I won’t tell Tim about your hubby’s addiction to cunny-honey.”

“My God, do you ever stop!?”

“Did you seriously just ask me that question?”

Emily sighed.  “Anyway... I wasn’t getting any new information out of him through being subtle, so I figured: what if I asked him when he was... you know...?”

“Down under?”

“Yes. That.”

“So... what happened?”

“So... we were going at it on... Friday, I think...?  And he was getting that look I’m starting to recognize, the blank stare, and when I was finished—”

“It’s good you waited to ask.  It’s not polite to talk with your mouth full.”

“—and when I was finished,” she repeated, “I started asking him questions.”  She gave Jocelyn the rundown on the discussion they’d had while he was under.  Or at least the first part.  The last... she wasn’t sure she wanted to share.

Jocelyn looked intrigued.  “So, he has no idea what’s going on, he just feels like he needs to do what you say.  Because ‘it’s right’.”

“Sometimes, he said.  Other times it was just normal... sex.  But sometimes...”

“It’s something more.  ‘Worship’.  That’s...”  She trailed off.

“A little odd?”

“I was going to say ‘fucking hot’, but I didn’t want you to think I was overstepping any boundaries.  Yeah, it’s a little odd, too, but that’s been this whole conversation.  Em, honey... I mean, I don’t want to sound over-the-top, but... my God, woman, enjoy it!  Take advantage of it.”

“I will!  I mean, I am... I mean, I’m not ‘taking advantage’, per se, he gets lots of pleasure from it...”

“I’m sure you will be canonized for your self-sacrifice.”

“Come on!  I’m not doing anything bad to him.”

“On the contrary,” she retorted.  “Look, you don’t have to convince me, babe.  It’s clear Jake is hardly suffering from the situation.  No harm, no foul.”

“Really?  You think it’s... it’s okay, what I’m doing to—with him?”

“Honey, there’s lots of kinky shit out there people do.  I don’t judge.”  She considered a second.  “Much.  But anyway, I’m not judging you.  If anything, I’m living vicariously through your stories.  Wishing my man was so into giving me pleasure that he will do home improvement projects in return.”  She licked her lips, and Emily wasn’t sure it was to remove stray drops of alcohol.  “Were there more incidents?”

“Mmmmmaybe.”

“Do I even want to know?  I already have shower nozzle material for like a week.”

“Joss!”

“Hey, sorry.  T-M-I, I get it.  I take it back.  A day, maybe.  Two days, tops.”

“Well, I’m not giving you any more.”

“No, don’t be that way...”  Jocelyn pouted, somehow looking even more pathetic than Rimrod or Rapidshot or whatever that dog’s name had been.

Emily, realizing that she wanted to talk about it more than she wanted to withhold it, finished her drink and held it toward the waitress across the room, catching her eye and indicating the need for a refill.  “Fine,” she conceded.  “There’s more.”

“Yay!”

“So... this weekend, when we were... it was just a normal night, you know, but then we started fooling around—”

“—and one thing led to another and he licked you out.”

Emily’s eyebrows came down in a vee.  “Can I finish?”

“Sounds like you do quite frequently.”  The new round of drinks had arrived.  

“Look, do you want to hear this or not?”

Her friend looked flushed; that was atypical for her after only the single glass, and with the rest of her body language... Emily was getting the distinct impression that her tale was not just arousing Future Shower Jocelyn. “Please!  Go on.  I’ll shut up.  Honest!”

“We were screwing around on the couch, and I told him I wanted... his mouth... and I sort of... teased him... with how he wanted to, you know, worship me.”

“You used those words?  While he was awake?” Her nostrils flared a bit.  “How did he react?”

“He... well, he wasn’t so far gone, then, you know.  He was acting normal.  I mean, horny, but normal.  And then when I asked if that’s how he felt about... doing it... he got all quiet and said, “Yes.”  Like it was the most serious thing in the world.  And from the look in his eyes, it was.”

“So, he was already, like, in a trance?”

“No, that’s the thing.  This look was completely conscious, all there.  It was just admission that... that that was how he thought of it.”

Jocelyn crossed her legs under the table, accidentally brushing Emily’s ankle en route, and leaned further in.  “I... see...  What...”  She swallowed more wine. “What then?”

“Then...” I took him.  “I... it was a moment... I couldn’t help myself.  I pushed him back on the floor, and I... rode him.”

“Rode his—”

“Mouth.  His... his face.”

Emily watched Jocelyn fail to repress a shudder.  “That’s... wow.  Is that... usually a thing for you guys, I mean, he does love—”

“Never.”  Emily gulped again, the pinot pushing more warmth into her.  “Never, before.  But it seemed...”

“It seemed right,” Jocelyn repeated.  “Wow.”

“Yeah, wow.”

“That’s... some story, Em.  I...”  She let out a long breath.  She paused to regain composure, uncrossed then recrossed her legs, and returned to sipping her drink.  “So, what are you gonna do?  Are you gonna tell him... what’s going on?”

“That’s the insane part, Joss.  I already did.”

“What?!  When?”

“When was it... Sunday,” she replied after counting back.  “I told him he’d been spacing out lately while he... ate me out... and that he was doing what I told him afterward.”

“I can’t believe you told him that.”

“Yeah, well, I did.”

Her eyes were wide.  “What the fuck did he say?”

“He... joked about it.  I don’t know if he didn’t believe me, or didn’t want to believe me, or... I don’t know what.  But he refused to take it seriously.  Offered to buy me a pocket watch.  Called me ‘mistress’.”

“Even after you told him about the... stuff...?”

“I told him I’d made him clean the garage.  He said he’d done that on his own.  That was actually true, I never told him to do that while he was... under. I just didn’t feel like I could tell him about the other stuff, the other experiments I did, so I made something up to see how he’d react.  He... it was like the laundry.  He shrugged it off and said it was his choice.”

“I mean, now I’m leaning back toward him mind-fucking you.  If my wife— my husband told me he was mind-controlling me and I was doing things he told me afterward, I’d be freaking out.  He’s gotta be pretending.”

“He’s not.  I swear.  I know him.  He’s a shit liar, and couldn’t act his way out of a paper bag.”

“Huh.”  The wine was almost gone, and they both had to drive, so no more was in the cards for tonight.  “I mean, no disagreement there.  He’s lucky he’s an honest dude, because his glib tongue is clearly only good at... that other thing.  I remember when he couldn’t even keep his marriage proposal a secret...”

“Exactly!”

“Well, I think you need to do more experiments.  And report on them.  To me.  Frequently.”

“What... what should I do, Jocelyn?"

“I dunno.”  She threw down a credit card on top of the bill, then stood up and headed to the ladies’ room, beckoning Emily to accompany her.  The restroom was occupied by several others and their conversation came to an end at that point.  Jocelyn still was able to finish cryptically enough, though: “But I am going to come up with soooooo many ideas for you soon.”

***

“I see you made it home tonight.  Finally.”

“It’s literally eight-fort—nine twenty-two.”

“Aha, see.  Caught you trying to pull one over on me, didn’t I?”

“Yes, I was trying to deceive you about what time it is.”

“I would have fallen for it, too, if I didn’t have this!”

“That’s a cell phone.  With a clock app.”

“I know!  Ingenious, no?”

“Sure.  What did you do while I was out?”

He gestured vaguely toward the kitchen.  “Ate. Delicious food that you will be jealous of!”

“You had those nasty madras lentils again, didn’t you?”

“No.”  He cupped his hand over his mouth and nose, exhaled, then sniffed.  “Maybe.”

“You’re not getting any kisses from me tonight.”

“Wrong!”  He laughed insanely and pounced on her lips with his own, gripping her cheeks to steady his aim.  The residual buzz of alcohol (and the fact that she didn’t truly want to avoid him as much as she feigned) meant that he successfully caught her with his mouth.  She steadfastly kept her own closed, refusing to admit him, but he pinched her ass and when she squealed in offended surprise, he went in.  She endured (and enjoyed) this for a moment before pushing him away lightly.  “Jerk.”

“I’m sorry I had to do that.  It was an emergency.”

“Big old jerk.”

“‘Big old’?  That’s the best you can do at escalation?”

“I’ll give you escalation, Mr. Jerk.”  She kissed him, this time, her body warming to his as they came together.

“Mmmmmmm...” he hummed.  “That’s nice.”

“Yes.”  The wine had done its work on her.  The wine and the conversation.  You need to do more experiments.  And report on them. To me.  And she would, truly, it would be fun and interesting and if she was honest with herself it was kinda hot that Jocelyn was so into it; right now, though... tonight was a time for pleasure.  Worship.  “But...”

“But...?”

“Kneel,” she said as their lips parted. She saw his eyebrow rise, inquisitive and bemused, in the soft light from the other room.  She leaned back against the door, hiking her pleated skirt up to her waist.  “I want you to kiss me... properly.”

He didn’t need convincing.