Somewhere less intense

A heavy silence settled over the small room. Jim, tense with arousal and fear, slowly kneading Catherine's breasts; Catherine, a wry smile on her lips as though her dull eyes somehow saw something everybody else missed; Rick watching with a strange, manic fascination.

Then Catherine burped, and the trio burst into a lengthy fit of laughter. The tension was broken, and Jim hastily withdrew his hands and stepped backwards. "Maybe a bit much for our first drop," Rick mumbled. Catherine shrugged and mouthed "felt good" at Jim with a wink. Rick's eyes flashed with a sudden epiphany, then his face creased with concern.

"Oh, Rick, I hate to tell you this," she said with a sympathetic hand on his shoulder. "I think Jim just realized something that I've known for... I don't know. Time is fuzzy now. The point is, you're actually the last to figure it out."

"Figure what out?" Rick was getting visibly angry.

She smiled, unperturbed, unperturbable. "Who has the power in our relationship right now?"

Rick stared at her, uncomprehending. Her smile widened; she was eager to show off the demonstration she had conceived in advance. "Ok, what can I ask for... oh, duh! Give me all the money you've got."

"What? Why?" Rick demanded. His wife actually clapped, gleeful that he had played his part in the demonstration perfectly.

"Because if you don't, I'll tell Jim that your relationship with your Aunt Chloe has uncomfortable sexual vibes." As she spoke, the expression of meek sympathy never left her face. "We all know it and nobody wanted to be the one to say it loud until now." She extended her hand; now Rick stared without comprehending.

"The money," Jim said sarcastically as he nearly stumbled in his rush to get to the door. "You two can... look, the room's yours. Try not to damage the upholstery." Rick turned back to his wife, who collapsed forward in giggles, unable to keep a straight face.

"Obviously I'm way too doped up to actually negotiate," she said with a woozy grin. "It's more like... a shock collar. If I feel like I should get your attention, I'll just overshare. I can say all kinds of stuff without a filter! Not just personal stuff. I can give you a list of politicians I'd like to-"

"No! No, no talk about- no legally actionable truths in public while you're on the drops. Or ever, really."

She shrugged amicably, as though he'd asked for a small favor. "Got it. And you could order me never to use my little veto, but every time you lay down a rule, you weaken the experience. All the rules make me... a little less me, you know? Part of the fun is the unpredictability."

"We haven't had a shortage of unpredictability," Rick sighed. He settled back into the plush couch and she cuddled up next to him. His wine glass was full again. Had Jim refilled it when he wasn't looking? Rick suddenly felt extremely weary. He sagged forward and Catherine caught him. She laid her head against her breasts and he nuzzled into their soft, comforting warmth.

"Mmm," he said. "Feels good..."

Catherine laughed. "See? Letting go of the reins can feel good too, right? Shhh, here, just rest and relax..."

She pressed his head into her chest, the skin soft and pliant on his cheek. She smelled really good. Was that her soap? Rick felt his thoughts float away as he gradually lost consciousness against her.

Rick felt warm and cozy. Something was gently rocking him; he perceived a dim light overhead. Coffee? He smelled coffee, it smelled amazing. He wanted coffee.

Rick sat up and took the cup of coffee from Catherine's hand. He blinked and looked around groggily, trying to reorient himself. "How... how long was I out?"

"I let you sleep for almost an hour," she said. "I ordered you a flatbread and a cup of coffee. The restaurant doesn't close for two hours."

"Thanks," he said, still obviously confused.

"For the first fifteen minutes, I just laid here and stroked your hair. Stared at the lights, finished my wine, and thought about how lucky I am. Then Jim stopped in. I think from the outside it kind of looked like you were giving me head. Anyway, when he asked what we wanted, I kind of snapped out of my daze and decided to have a post-nap pick-me-up ready."

"Wow, thanks." This time he sounded impressed, not confused. As he took a slice of flatbread, Rick realized he was starving. "That seems like a lot in your condition."

"It's funny, I have this odd impulse to do things for other people. It's not just that I don't refuse requests, it's like... normally, if I think of something nice to do, the default decision is to not bother and I have to talk myself into it. I see a jacket you'd like and I hem and haw over price. Someone's broken down in the parking lot and I do a mental inventory of my evening schedule before getting the jumper cables.

"Now it's the opposite. I might realize, as I'm gunning my engine in the parking lot, that we had very expensive opera tickets. When it comes to helping people, I'm in 'shoot first and ask questions later' mode. It's... actually my favorite part of this experience so far."

Rick thought of the cries of pleasure that had echoed off of his walls. "Really?"

"I'm a good person," she said. Her eyes were wet and glassy, swirling black holes of peace at the center of two marbles clouded by tears and pharmaceuticals. "I've never felt so kindhearted, so empathetic... it's like all the selfishness got sucked right out of me."

"I have got to try this," Rick muttered.

"You won't remember it," she said sadly. "If I wasn't so blissed out, it would make me weep. Although if I wasn't so blissed out, maybe the experience wouldn't be worth weeping for?"