The weather reporter in the morning had promised the sun
would be out in the afternoon and that later the evening would be
balmy. Alone now in her living room, Helen desperately wanted the
evening to be balmy, or at least without rain. She dreaded the
possibility of rain during her first evening out with Alex
Kimble. It wasn’t that rain was a bad omen or anything like that,
Helen was too much of a realist to be bothered with that sort of
nonsense. But rain would make the mood with Alex more somber than
she wanted it. Helen imagined Alex favored pleasant weather and
sunshine, since Alex managed to keep a good tan year round and
her favorite pastime was golf. Helen knew that because she’d read
it in Alex’s newspaper. In the back of Helen’s mind she thought
it a bit outlandish for a woman to own a newspaper and have the
people who worked for her write about her as a celebrity whenever
they could, but Helen guessed there might be a more mundane
purpose to it, business promotion or whatever, and anyway she
hadn’t yet seen anything about Alex on television and Alex also
owned one of the local TV stations.
You’re jittery, Helen thought. Yes, she was jittery. She was
forty-six years old, and since her split with Margaret five years
before, she hadn’t had that many women in her life, certainly
none of them as potentially promising as Alex. The town wasn’t
that big and how many interesting dykes could one expect to find
in it? There had been one architect, one ophthalmologist, a
professor at Clarke College, and a colleague on the psychiatric
staff at the private hospital where Helen had a part-time
position as one of the staff psychiatrists. None of the women had
amounted to much. Helen had had hopes for the psychiatrist, but
Jane Embers turned out to be incredibly awful as a lover,
interested only in masturbating together, no kissing, hardly any
touching, and the whole scene had depressed Helen completely. The
architect had been the most interesting, easy to be with and
artistic, but she drank enough to become incoherent and boorish
at the wrong moments. As for the ophthalmologist, she’d been a
classmate of Helen’s in medical school and she was absolutely the
dullest lesbian Helen had ever met. Of course there was an
occasional private patient who made a pass at Helen when they
discovered Helen was a lesbian, but Helen considered that
forbidden territory, no affairs with patients allowed, not in her
practice, and she couldn’t imagine it anyway. My God, you’ve had
a bad time, Helen thought. Which was why she looked forward so
much to her date with Alex. She’d met Alex through Alex’s
brother, or rather when Alex had brought her brother to Helen for
treatment. There were other psychiatrists in town in private
practice, but Teddy Kimble had evidently already exhausted them.
Teddy was a borderline schizophrenic with a penchant for breaking
plate glass windows, and although Helen thought his case was
probably hopeless, she’d referred Alex to a man in Cincinnati who
she thought might help him. Meanwhile, Alex had shown an interest
in Helen, which flattered Helen immensely, since Alex was
successful, worldly, and obviously gay, and when Alex had called
and invited Helen to have lunch with her, Helen had immediately
agreed. They passed a pleasant hour together at lunch, and then a
week later Alex called Helen again and suggested they have dinner
together. Alex was certainly a handsome woman, maybe a few years
older than Helen, not excessively butch, just enough to make her
interesting to Helen, athletic-looking and obviously fit, and
Helen hoped this date would eventually lead to a bedroom. That
was the objective, even if it made Helen a bit uncomfortable to
admit it. Helen wanted a woman in bed and not just at a dinner
table. She knew enough about her own nervous system to understand
what she needed to maintain her equilibrium in life. She’d had
ten years of a nasty lesbian marriage, but the sexual chemistry
had often been good, and now that it was gone she missed it.
You’re in heat, she thought with amusement. Yes, maybe it was
true. But after all the years fucking women, her lusts still made
her uneasy because she hated losing control, even if she did need
sex. Maybe if things worked out just right during this date, she
and Alex might finish in bed together. You certainly need it,
Helen thought. She needed fucking, and it was no use denying it.
She imagined Alex fucking her, and the image instantly turned her
on and made her crotch tingle.
At six o’clock in the evening Helen had a bath. After the
bath, she approached the full-length mirror in her bedroom as she
applied lotion to her body in various places. The scent of the
lotion coupled with the sight of her nakedness in the mirror made
her quiver as she thought of the evening ahead of her. She hadn’t
decided yet what to do with her hair. Should she wear it up or
down? She had dark hair and dark eyes, and she thought with her
hair in a chignon she might look too conservative, too reserved.
But it was really her best look, and she decided to wear it that
way. That was how Alex had first met her, wasn’t it? She wondered
what Alex thought of her, what sort of sexual interest Alex had
in her. Was it her breasts? They were on the full side, heavy
enough to have a pronounced droop, the nipples prominent even
when they were not erected. Helen turned and looked at her
buttocks in the mirror, at her thighs and calves. She was curvy
and female, but not really plump. Not yet anyway. A bit heavy in
the ass, but she was tall and her thighs were still good. Butches
usually liked her legs, especially when she wore heels. She loved
being feminine for butch women, playing the femme for them,
manipulating their desire, watching the lust in their eyes.
Amused at her own narcissism, Helen dropped a hand down to cover
the dark thatch of her pubic hair. Her sex felt warm, the lips
puffed with excitement.
She decided that if Alex did suggest it this evening, she
would go to bed with Alex without much resistance. Why play
games? Surely she could find some way to say yes without Alex
thinking she was too easy. And if Alex did think that, what
difference did it make? Helen hated being childish about sex. If
they were suited to each other and wanted each other, why not?
Now she held a breast with one hand as she dipped the middle
finger of the other hand between her labia to find the wetness in
her vagina. Her ex-partner Margaret had claimed she had a cunt
tight enough to be virginal, and since Margaret wa a
gynecologist, Helen supposed she ought to take Margaret’s word
for it. Helen probed herself, squatted a bit and thrust her
finger deep inside the opening and brought some juice out to
cover her clitoris. After that she moved her legs apart and she
began masturbating. She ached for a dildo, but this was not the
time for that. No dildo now. She did not want to risk exhausting
herself. Once she started with a dildo the masturbation usually
went on and on until she felt completely drained. She did not
want to be drained and dull with Alex Kimble, especially not if
they wound up in bed. If they did go to bed together this
evening, Helen wanted her vagina tight and elastic as it gripped
Alex’s cock. Helen knew Alex liked wearing a strap-on, because
Alex had casually mentioned it the last time they were together.
“Cocks are better than fingers,” Alex had said. “I don’t give a
damn about the politics.” Which pleased Helen, because that was
precisely her own view.
Now Helen groaned softly as she thought of Alex sporting a
strap-on, the cock jutting in front of Alex’s belly. Helen now
had two fingers hooked inside the mouth of her vagina, her thumb
rubbing her clitoris with a jerking motion as she imagined Alex
Kimble’s dildo thrusting in and out of her cunt. Helen’s legs
quaked. She gazed in the mirror at her flushed face, and then her
eyes dropped to her belly and her moving hand. What was Alex’s
cock like? Did Alex use a large cock? Oh God, she wanted it.
Helen cried out as she came, her eyes closed, her wrist vibrating
as fast as she could move it, her thumb tearing at her clitoris.
She gave herself another quick orgasm and then she stopped
it. Enough, enough, she thought. After a short trip to the
bathroom, she started arranging her outfit for the evening. She
chose every item of underwear and clothing as carefully as
possible. She wanted to be seductive, but at the same time not
too obvious about it. You’re silly, she thought. But she couldn’t
be more eager for the evening ahead. After the fantasies all day
and the masturbation a few minutes ago, she felt like a pot about
to boil over, hissing, bubbling, the cover jiggling as the steam
underneath pushed at it.
Her nipples tingled as she slipped her bra over her breasts.
Silly girl, she thought. Once again she prayed it wouldn’t rain.
* * *
By the time Alex called for her at eight o’clock, Helen had
recovered her composure and she was ready for the evening.
“You look wonderful,” Alex said.
“Oh, thank you.”
Alex wore grey dress slacks and a white shirt and a black
velvet jacket. Helen thought Alex looked stunning. Alex’s short
greying hair was just short enough to make her appear slightly
androgynous. She had fine features, a straight nose, and clear
grey eyes. She wore hardly any makeup, just a touch of lipstick.
Her chest and hips were flat enough to make the jacket and slacks
she wore enhance her cool elegance. Helen felt proud to be dating
such an impressive woman.
Alex had a large black Mercedes waiting on the avenue in
front of Helen’s house. The evening was balmy, just as the
weatherman had promised. Helen stepped carefully on the path from
the front door of the house to the car. She was wearing the
highest heels that she had and she was afraid she might trip on a
pebble.
They drove to a stylish restaurant on the highway to the
airport. It really wasn’t much of an airport, mostly a tarmac for
private planes owned by people who could afford them. Helen
guessed Alex had an airplane. Did she fly about the country
like some romantic daredevil? Helen felt the heat in her face as
she realized she was being silly again.
In the restaurant, Alex made a great show of ordering
champagne and reading the menu in French. Helen found it amusing,
but she had to admit Alex’s French was better than her own. And
the dinner was lovely, intimate, the setting just right for two
people who might be starting something between them. Helen felt
happy. She felt elated that she was there at all, there with Alex
Kimble of all people. And when Alex flirted with her in a not too
aggressive way, Helen responded to it with great warmth.
After a while Alex talked about her life, her business
affairs, her plans for the newspaper and the television station.
Helen said: “The weatherman is good.”
“What?”
“I said the weatherman on your TV station is good. This
morning he said it would be balmy this evening, and he was
absolutely right.”
Alex’s eyebrows went up. “He said that, did he?”
“I know it’s silly, but he did say it.”
After a long moment, Alex said. “I like you, Helen.”
“You do?”
“You don’t mind if I talk about myself, do you?”
Helen smiled. “I’m a psychiatrist, remember? I’m used to
people talking.”
Alex talked about her former lover, a woman she’d lived with
for years and who was no longer with her, and about how difficult
it was for her because she needed companionship.
“If it wasn’t for Jan, I think I’d be completely miserable,”
Alex said. “Jan has been just perfect.”
Jan was Alex’s grown daughter, the only child of an early
marriage.
“Yes, it’s often difficult when relationships end,” Helen
said. “But time heals things, doesn’t it?”
She kept Alex talking. As a trained psychiatrist, Helen was
a good listener, and having Alex talk seemed the easiest way to
sustain the mood. But all the while Alex talked, Helen imagined
herself in bed with Alex, in her own bedroom with only that small
red lamp lit, both of them naked on her bed and coupling like a
pair of young lovers. The image brought heat to Helen’s belly. Oh
God, she did want it.
Alex, it seemed, was also thinking about young lovers. After
the restaurant, Alex drove to a hilltop overlooking the town and
the river, a hilltop that was famous as a lover’s lookout. There
were at least a dozen cars already parked in the dark, and no one
paid any attention at all to the big Mercedes as it slid into an
empty spot at one end of the row.
“I took dates here when I was in high school,” Alex said
with a chuckle.
Helen had heard about the place, but she’d grown up in
another state and she’d never known this place as a girl.
They talked again, or rather Alex talked and Helen listened
to her as she’d been listening all evening. After a while, as
Helen expected, Alex moved closer to Helen on the seat and Alex
tried to kiss her. Helen put up only a token resistance, and it
wasn’t long before the kisses became hot and passionate. When
Alex started stroking Helen’s breasts through her dress, Helen
allowed it, responding to it by kissing Alex with more fervor.
But then Alex tried to get Helen’s breasts exposed and Helen
wouldn’t have it.
“Alex, please…”
Alex whispered against Helen’s ear: “You’re quite a woman,
Helen.”
Helen realized this was a critical moment. Should she yield
at once or keep Alex guessing awhile?
“Maybe I ought to be getting home now.”
“But why? It’s not even eleven o’clock.”
Alex seemed annoyed, but Helen pacified her by reminding her
that after all they didn’t know each other that well. “Not yet,”
she said. “And certainly we shouldn’t be doing anything here.”
Of course that put a spark in Alex, gave her hope that later
Helen might yield to her. Alex started up the Mercedes and they
left the hilltop.
As they drove into town, Alex said: “It’s a fine town, isn’t
it, Helen? Not too big and not too small.”
“Yes, I like it.”
“How’d you get here? You’re weren’t born here, were you?”
“No, I came here with a woman who set up a practice
downtown.”
“A doctor?”
“My ex was a gynecologist.”
Alex chuckled. “Well, I didn’t know that. I suppose for a
dyke that’s an interesting specialty.”
“She was bored with it.”
“I can’t imagine it.”
They both laughed. Helen wondered about Alex. The time
they’d spent on the hilltop had disappointed Helen because Alex
had been clumsy fondling her. Why was it always so difficult for
some butches to know what a woman like her wanted?
When they arrived at Helen’s house, Helen invited Alex
inside for coffee. “Unless you’re too tired,” Helen said.
“Tired? No, I’m not tired. But I’ll take Scotch if you have
it.”
Helen shook her head. “You shouldn’t, you know. Not if
you’re driving.” She felt like a prissy fool telling Alex that,
but Alex seemed pleased that Helen cared enough to warn her.
“All right, I’ll take the coffee,” Alex said quietly.
Helen served the coffee in the living room. She turned the
lights down a bit, and they sat beside each other on the sofa.
Before long Alex started kissing Helen again, stroking her
breasts again through her dress. This time when Alex wanted to
get Helen’s breasts exposed, Helen did nothing to stop it. Alex
muttered something, and in a few moments she had Helen’s dress
down and the front of her bra unhooked. Alex seemed delighted as
Helen’s breasts spilled into her hands.
“Oh, lordy, they’re exquisite,” Alex said.
“They’re not special,” Helen said with a soft laugh. But she
enjoyed it immensely as Alex bent her head to lick and suck
at her nipples. Helen stroked the back of Alex’s neck and around
her ears, her fingers tangling in Alex’s short hair. When Alex
finally stopped sucking her breasts, Helen sighed.
Fondling one of Helen’s breasts, her fingers tugging at the
large nipple, Alex said, “You sure get to me.”
“I really didn’t think… ”
“What?”
“I never thought things would move this fast between us.”
“You’re one of the most exciting women I’ve ever known.”
“Really?”
Alex bent forward to suck Helen’s breasts again, and then
Alex suddenly slipped off the sofa to her knees in front of
Helen. Before Helen could stop her, Alex had Helen’s dress pulled
back, her legs pushed apart, Alex’s face burrowing between
Helen’s thighs to find her nylon-covered crotch. Alex was at her
like an animal, making feral noises, her nose and mouth pushing
against Helen’s cunt, her teeth grasping at the nylon gusset of
Helen’s pantyhose. Amazed at Alex’s ferocity, Helen gazed down at
her, at the way Alex nuzzled and sniffed her like a hungry dog.
Helen wanted to stop her, but she found what Alex was doing too
exciting. How forceful! With a groan, Helen opened her thighs
even wider to give Alex more room. She wanted Alex to rip her
tights apart to get at her cunt, but instead Alex continued
sucking at her through the nylon, literally chewing Helen’s flesh
and making her moan with delight as she felt Alex’s teeth. With a
deep shudder, Helen closed her thighs on Alex’s head, locked her
in place, and then flung her legs apart again.
“Alex, stop it, please…”
Alex pulled back, her face flushed, her appearance contrite,
her eyes gazing again at the crotch of Helen’s pantyhose. “Sorry,
I guess I lost control.”
Helen closed her legs, but in a languorous way and without
haste, and then she pulled her dress down to cover her knees.
“It’s a little wild, isn’t it?”
“Yes.”
Helen laughed softly. “Well, don’t be so apologetic about
it, because I do like it, you know. Come on, sit up here again.
You make me uncomfortable sitting on the floor like that.”
“I’m flustered,” Alex said, her face flushed.
Helen was amused. Worldly Alex, so handsome and competent
looking, but not so adept at seduction. What a surprise. Helen
had not expected it, but now that she understood more about Alex,
she found herself even more excited.
Alex rose, and when she sat beside Helen again, Helen kissed
her. The kiss was tender at first, but then Alex took Helen in
her arms and it became more passionate. Now, for the first time,
Helen moved a hand into Alex’s lap to find her cock. She knew it
would be there. She’d caught its presence earlier in the evening.
If one knew where to look, it was obvious when a butch was
packing, wearing a dildo in her trousers. Helen touched it
carefully because she had no intimate knowledge of Alex, no
understanding yet of what Alex was like as a butch. Some butches
hated to be touched, actually hated having their cocks fondled.
They would fuck a woman with a dildo, but with hardly any
touching of the cock by the woman. And other butches were the
opposite: they wanted their cocks played with and stroked and
sucked. Alex was still a mystery.
Helen found the bulge of the cock. She stroked it with her
fingertips, thrilled when she heard Alex moan in response.
When the kiss ended, Helen pulled back from Alex, pulled her
hand away from Alex’s lap and said: “I guess I’m just as
flustered as you are.”
“You’re wonderful, Helen. I don’t often get so excited.”
“You don’t?”
“I usually have a problem with ordinary women.”
“Ordinary women?”
“Ordinary lesbians.”
“And what are the others?”
“The others are call girls.”
“Oh.”
Helen was shocked. The idea had never occurred to her, but
then she told herself that call girls were probably a commonplace
with rich women like Alex, women who wielded power with their
money.
“You don’t like it,” Alex said.
“I didn’t say that.”
“Well, you look it.”
“Believe me, Alex, I don’t mind it. I’m very level-headed
about life. I’m a psychiatrist, remember?”
“I can’t forget it.”
“What does that mean?”
“Nothing.”
Helen remained silent, waiting for Alex to continue. It was
always better to wait, because eventually the other person would
talk and reveal something. But Alex didn’t talk; she merely sat
there looking pensive, and before long Helen became fearful the
intimacy between them would vanish.
“What do you do with them?” Helen said.
“Do with them?”
“You said you usually had a problem with ordinary women, so
I suppose that means you do something different with call girls.
Whatever it is, there’s nothing wrong with it, you know. People
have different needs.”
When Helen looked at Alex, she found Alex gazing at her
legs. But Helen’s dress covered her knees and there was nothing
to see except her shins and feet. Then their eyes met and a flush
came to Alex’s face again as she looked away.
“All right, I’ll tell you,” Alex said. “What I do with the
call girls is pay them to push me around. Don’t ask me why I need
it, because I don’t know.”
“Push you around?”
“They treat me like dirt, like a slave.”
Helen was silent a long moment, a mixture of annoyance and
fascination churning inside her. So that was Alex’s secret. Helen
had known one or two patients like that, but never anyone who
wasn’t a patient, and certainly not anyone she’d thought of
romantically. Was she romantic about Alex? She didn’t know yet.
And now with this new information…
Alex sighed. “Maybe I’d better go.”
“No, don’t.”
“Are you sure?”
“I wouldn’t say it if I wasn’t sure. Relax, Alex. I’ll make
some fresh coffee and then we’ll see what happens.”
* * *
It took some doing, of course. After she made the coffee,
she returned with it to the living room. This time she sat at the
far end of the sofa, her body turned so she could look at Alex,
who seemed uncomfortable, as if she thought she’d revealed too
much about herself.
Helen made small talk with Alex as they sipped the coffee,
coaxing Alex to talk about her hobbies, about the town, about her
daughter, anything to get off the subject of sex for a while.
“Tell me about Jan,” Helen said. “What’s she like?”
Alex chuckled. “She can be a hell-raiser. Were you like that
once?”
“How old is she?”
“Twenty-eight.”
“No, at twenty-eight I was working very hard doing a
residency.”
“She’s running the TV station, you know. I put everything in
her hands. She’s wonderful at it.”
Then the talking stopped and they just gazed at each other.
Helen was still aroused by what had happened before, and she had
no intention of ending the evening yet. No, not just yet.
“Tell me what you want,” she said.
Alex stared at her. “What I want?”
“Yes, what would you like from me. What would you like us to
do?”
Alex seemed confused. “I don’t know. I guess I want what you
want.”
“Yes, of course.” Helen suddenly understood that what Alex
wanted was to be directed, to be told what to do, to be managed.
It was almost as if Alex were a patient of hers. But of course
she was not a patient, she was a woman with whom Helen had
already had some sexual intimacy. Such a handsome butch woman,
but no longer so confident. Not feminine — just not confident.
Yearning to be submissive, at least at the moment. Helen noticed
the way Alex looked at her legs and she opened them a bit, pulled
her skirt back to uncover the lower parts of her thighs. “Why
don’t you do what you did before?” Helen said, and to make her
meaning clear, she leaned back, raised her knees and opened them
as wide as possible.
For an instant a great shudder appeared to pass through
Alex, and then she flung herself down between Helen’s legs, her
face pressed against Helen’s crotch as she started sucking
Helen’s sex through the nylon with the same fervor she’d shown
previously.
Helen adored it. She kept her knees well back, her legs in
the air as she gazed at the face pressed against her mound, at
the mouth working at her covered flesh. But before long she
wanted a more intimate contact and she told Alex to stop. When
Alex pulled away from her, Helen dropped her legs and she slipped
her shoes off. Then she rose from the sofa and she quickly slid
her hands beneath her dress to remove her pantyhose and panties.
Now when she sat on the sofa again with her dress back and her
knees raised, her sex was naked and completely exposed.
Alex’s eyes were ravenous as she looked between Helen’s
legs. The fervent hunger in Alex’s gaze thrilled Helen. She did
nothing, said nothing for a long moment as she allowed Alex a
full inspection of what she had. Like the Medusa, she thought.
Alex stared at her cunt as though Helen were the Medusa and Alex
had turned to stone.
“Enough, Alex?”
Alex squirmed. “Do you mind?”
“I don’t mind being looked at, but I hope you want more than
that.”
“I want whatever you want.”
What Alex wanted was to be treated like a small boy-toy, to
be ordered to do things. Helen understood what Alex wanted and
the idea of it excited her. This rich handsome woman wanted
domination, a butch who desired to be topped by a femme. Not
quite what Helen had expected from Alex, but here it was and
Helen found herself unequivocally turned on by it.
“All right, do what you did before. Go on, suck it, Alex. I
always like to be sucked if it’s done right. Go on, then.”
Alex’s face dropped down again, and in a moment she was
nuzzling, sniffing, licking, and sucking at Helen’s sex with
enough devotion to make Helen moan. Helen adored being sucked
when it was done with passion, and at the moment Alex was
certainly passionate. Helen held her knees back with her hands,
her head bent as she watched everything, Alex’s flushed face, her
tongue when Helen could see it, her nose pressed against Helen’s
pubic hair. Alex moved her head from side to side with her mouth
on Helen’s clitoris, and before long that was enough to make
Helen come. Helen groaned and shook from head to toe, locking
Alex’s head in place with her thighs to keep Alex’s mouth where
it was, to keep Alex from pulling away.
When Helen finally released Alex, she lay back and looked at
Alex with a lazy smile. “That was lovely, Alex.”
Alex licked her lips. “I enjoyed it.”
“Would you like to do it again?”
“Yes, very much.”
“Let’s do it differently this time.”
Helen told Alex what she wanted. She used her fingers to
open her sex and make her clitoris protrude. She told Alex she
wanted her tongue licking the shaft of her clitoris slowly. “Up
and down,” she said. “You do that awhile and we’ll see what
happens.”
Alex bent forward immediately, and Helen watched closely as
Alex did it. Alex kept her tongue extended, the pink organ
licking up and down the shaft of Helen’s clitoris, making it
tingle, making Helen’s heart pound with pleasure. She kept Alex
at it until she had another orgasm. Now she was in the swing of
it, comfortable with dominating Alex so completely, excited by
it, thrilled by the potentialities. She had never imagined this
might happen.
“No more of that,” Helen said. “Stand up now and get
undressed.”
Alex seemed in a daze as she rose to get her clothes off.
Helen lay back and watched her, and when Alex was naked Helen was
excited by Alex’s pink cock jutting out of the crotch=piece of a
black leather harness.
Helen smiled at her. “That looks interesting, doesn’t it?”
“You’re marvelous, Helen.”
Should she have Alex penetrate her? No, this was not a good
time. Some other time, maybe, but not now.
“Can you come stroking it? Go on, use your hand,” she said.
“I’ll just watch you.”
Of course Alex could come that way, the base of the cock
rhythmically jamming against her clitoris as she stroked the
shaft. Alex stared at Helen, hesitated a long moment, and then
started masturbating. Completely relaxed, Helen watched the whole
procedure with a degree of clinical interest. The fact was she’d
never seen it done before, an actual masturbation like this, the
pumping of the dildo by the woman’s fist. Helen had read about it
but she had never seen it, at least not to a finish. Her previous
butch lovers had always been too timid about their cocks. Of
course the dildo could also be pumped by a woman’s mouth, and
Helen squeezed her thighs together as she thought of it. She had
done that a number of times with lovers, sucked a strap-on, but
she’d never made a woman come that way. Had Alex ever had that
done to her? Her eyes closed, her face flushed, Alex obviously
knew how to give herself pleasure stroking her dildo. Did she
have her call girls suck her dildo? Were they good at it? Alex
came hard now, groaning deep in her chest, and Helen felt a new
burst of excitement as she watched Alex Kimble shudder through
her orgasm.
Potentialities, Helen thought. Oh, how she loved the
potentialities!