Jon left her bound and laughing. And with Martin in a jolly mood as well, she escaped the vigorous raping, or even a gentler lovemaking, and went home as deliriously confused as she’d been every other day of a remarkable week. This time, however, she was much less troubled. It was a game—nothing that happened with Jon Rush was real life. These were scenes, provocative s*x-charged pieces of erotic pleasure. To attach anything more to them would be regrettable, even if they stirred in her an unsettling need for more.
Friday…
Friday was another foggy, chilly San Francisco afternoon. The studio was dark when she arrived, the drape drawn over the entrance to the main room. Martin had left a note for her on the reception desk along with a brown paper sack that would presumably hold her costum
