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Every medical journal agreed. Yet this was the third such experience in as many weeks, each more thrilling and unsettling than the last. So either the medical world was wrong or this was something else entirely.I tried to slow my breathing, listening for any signs above my galloping pulse. There was nothing to latch onto, but I knew it was there. I could sense it, waiting, planning its moves and I didn't know whether to smile or puke. Jesus, what would it be tonight? More of that exquisite touching and probing? The way it somehow knew exactly where to stroke. The perfect amount of pressure to exert. Or maybe it would take things to a completely new level? Would that even be possible after… last time?I shivered. Neuroscience 101 posits that fear and exhilaration begin, electrically, with the same response. Same impulses to the thalamus. Same surge of dopamine. Same neurotransmitter activity. The difference between the feelings stems from how the brain interprets those signals. How you. Danny unbuttoned several buttons on my shirt and gently teased my chest with her long finger nails. Suddenly, without any warning, she pushed me back on the bed and tore at my shirt, the buttons flying off of it.“That’s a good shirt,” I remarked.Danny didn’t care. I could tell by the look in her eyes and the way she bit down on her lower lip that she was on fire. I tore at her shirt and in seconds she was topless and I was sucking on her boobs.Betty appeared in the doorway.“Hey,” Betty exclaimed, “not without me.”Betty bounced on to the bed. She grabbed my arm and, using my shirt, had one of my hands tied to the bedpost before I knew what was transpiring. Danny held on to my other arm, our lips still locked in a passionate kiss as Betty stripped off my pants, my underwear and my socks.Betty wrapped the trouser leg of my pants around my one free arm. I tried to pull loose, but couldn’t.My arms were tied to the bed posts.“No, no, no,” I protested, “I do not like to be tied down.”Danny.
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