He’d no sooner finished with her than he’d cleaned himself up with a damp towel and dressed, standing in front of the mirror to tuck in his shirt and knot his tie. Helene lay naked on the bed with the spread pulled over her, trying to collect herself and think of something to say that might somehow redeem herself—in her eyes at least, if not in his—but absolutely nothing came to mind, so she kept quiet, hardly daring to look at him as he dressed.Her orgasm had left her weak and trembling and terribly ashamed. She’d already been embarrassed by the photographs of herself masturbating on her roof, and then humiliated that he’d been able to use those photographs to blackmail her so easily into having sex with him. But worse than either of these was the shame she felt over the shattering orgasm she’d just experienced, an orgasm the likes of which she’d never known. The ferocity and totality of her release had shocked her and left her stunned and speechless, and he’d been witness to it.As she lay there in her shame and confusion, she realized that all she’d thought she knew about sex was nothing at all.
