She would grab his head when it was buried between her legs, strangling him against her. Begging for him.He would wake up feeling a little guilty. She...was a brunette. And he still wanted her, and hated himself for wanting her.His work continued. He did what they wanted him to do. Designed what he wanted him to do, in whatever inane crazy way that they wanted it done. It was wrong, but he had given up telling them it was wrong. They knew best. He was thirty today. He got the automated "Happy. "Myra tensed; she heard the antagonism in her hostess' voice and wondered if Bonnie were working herself up to calling a halt to the whole experiment. But Ward appeared capable of soothing his wife. He put his arm around her and squeezed, planting a light kiss on the top of her head."Got butterflies in your stomach, puss?"Bonnie grabbed him and clung fiercely. "Oh Christ, yes! Ward, you've got no idea what a woman feels like when she knows she... knows she's going to be totally helpless that. More

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