Erotic forearms?

As your fingers run barely touching down her arms for the third time, you feel something. The outside edge between her wrist and elbow gives you a major reprieve. A minute later you've stopped touching her neck entirely and have both of your hands running down her arms.

"I've never heard of this one before. Can I move your sleeve at all?"

"Fuck it." She yanks her own sleeves up. "It's weird, especially since people touch there all the time casually. Usually it's fine but when they just barely touch-" She freezes as you lose contact completely and just run your fingers through the invisible tiny hairs. "Oh fuck. I believe you. You win. It's real. Sorry about your head. Can you fix it now?"

You're not sure how to respond. _I'm pretty sure if I tell her I need to give her orgasms she'll try to crack my skull on purpose this time. _After a moment she moves the pillow and looks you in the face again.

"You're looking pale and not just from the blood loss. ... Oh, damn. You want to fuck me, don't you?"

Hallelujah, thank whatever gods for her choice of words. This is like the eighth time today you've gotten stupidly lucky, head wound notwithstanding. You've been going over things that seem plausible and paying attention for those suspiciously helpful gut reactions. There's not a huge gap between coitus and giving her orgasms, but you can focus all her attention on that difference.

"No! I mean, it'd work, but I don't have to go that far."

"No? God, I'm not sure I wouldn't do it. This whole thing has been traumatising and unbelievable. OK. Tell me all about it. Not just what you want from me. Tell the whole story and don't hold anything back. I know that reality has taken a vacation of some sort and I'll give any explanation a fair shot."

"When I was done on my computer and going to bed I went to turn off the light. Instead I turned off the light without touching it. I just moved the switch with my mind. Then I tried to heal my di- myself, and apparently healing is harder than light switches and when you try to use WAY more energy than you have you basically die in gruesome pain. Remember the guys in Alien? It feels like that only inward."

She actually laughs a bit at your little slip, and then is almost in tears when you get to the end. Her laugh's a bit hysterical, and she's obviously in shock and irrational right now. You definitely wouldn't take advantage of her in this state of mind if it weren't life and ****. You'll make it up to her!

"So this is refilling your energy? Why not just stick to this?"

"No, this is like... when you have a serious burn and mist it with water. It's less than a bandaid, just probably a conditional thing where your body isn't going to stop you from saving yourself while you're doing it. Like telling your credit card that the cheque's in the mail, not even making minimum payments."

"What gives you energy?"

"I get energy from sex acts. Anything pleasurable in the right way counts. Don't ask how I know. Weird answers have been popping into my brain the whole time, even after all the other magic senses disappeared because I'm so far in debt."

"What do you need to do to fix your head?"

"The energy I get is a math function. The inverse square of distance times the intensity of the pleasure multiplied by the cause and a kink/perv factor that has to do with my own interests and yours. Hey, cool. I didn't know that when I started talking."

You can actually feel her arousal drop from your math-speak.

"Fuck off with the the math! English!"

"Basically, the more pleasure we feel, the better. The closer the better, and the last bit of distance to touching is a big deal. If it's not something I'm doing I get a lot less and if it's anything you're really into ... or, or normally really against there's a bonus. Because of math reasons you always want to try improve whatever the weakest link is. Your arm is fun for you and all, but not very intense so since you like it better when I almost touch that's also better for me."

"Was that so hard? But you still didn't answer the question. How bad are you? What do you need to do to get better and fix your head before you die?"

"Um... I'm not sure? I don't want to ask too much and have you run off. But if we work our way up I should get an idea. This-" You look at her arms and your hands. "Is little enough that it's not showing up. But I'm also still really fucked up so that doesn't mean much. Basically... What I mean is... It's up to you. What's the most pleasurable thing for you and/or me that you'll let me do?"

"Me or you... it really doesn't matter which?"

"Not at all. Activity matters though. Anything you're doing is less, and anything I'm doing is more. Since you're the one doing a blowjob, it'd be less than if I fingered you."

"Fuck it. You're still really pale and it's scary." You don't find out what she means by that because she rolls over and away, and that's the last you know for a bit other than pain.