‘I don’t find it even vaguely amusing, actually.’ I say nothing more in the hope that he will move on to another topic of conversation.
‘I’m only asking because I’m involved in some research that deals with exactly this issue.’
‘What, arseholes? And back door entry?’ Now it is my turn to chuckle as I consider exactly what this sort of research might have involved back at uni. No doubt Jeremy would have eagerly volunteered.
‘No, not arseholes, Alex,’ he says more seriously, then jokes, ‘Well, not yet anyway, but I am happy to experiment with yours whenever you’re ready.’ He strategically strokes my leathered behind. ‘More about that later. Right now, we need to get going.’
‘Oh, do we have to? The sun feels so good it would be lovely just to stay here a little longer and have a siesta, don’t you think?’ I settle into a sideways sleeping position.
‘It would be, but it is not going to happen. I’m not wasting my hours with you sleeping when we are on a time limit. I am making the most of every minute.’
‘How much more can we fit in, Jeremy? Drinks, baths, dinner, dancing, singing, sex, orgasms, breakfast, bike riding, coffee, skydiving’ — I say with great emphasis — ‘and now a picnic. Isn’t that enough for a week, let alone one day? We’ve already done everything. Let’s rest a little, just half an hour or so. There’s still plenty of time.’ I say the words although I’ve no idea how much time is left or where we are. I place my hand out to try to find him and pull him toward me but he has moved.
‘You haven’t changed, have you? There’s so much more to experience, to awaken within you and so little time.’
‘Isn’t skydiving the ultimate experience? I promise you, Jeremy, I feel well and truly awakened, probably more so than I have for many decades.’ My mind wanders back to this morning and the pulsing sensation reignites in my groin from the memories.
‘I can assure you, sweetheart, I have barely begun.’ He strokes my cheeks and lightly kisses my lips. Shit! Barely begun? What more is there? My heart starts racing — again.
‘There is an amazing innocence about you, Alexa, even after all these years.’
I’m not sure whether to be offended or not.
‘We need to get moving now so we can rectify your innocence. There is no time to be lost.’
‘No. I’m not moving. What innocence? What are you talking about?’ I would never use that word to describe myself. I stay stubbornly seated.
He completely ignores me. ‘If you’re not going to move, I’ll just have to do it for you. A man’s work is never done these days.’ He sweeps me up from the blanket, his hand firmly grabbing my arse in the process as if to reinforce our conversation. After taking a few steps, he places me on a warm seat, fastens a seat belt around me and readjusts the sunglasses to ensure they are in the correct position, once again ensuring I am utterly in the dark.
‘We’re in a car?’ The engine roars to life, as does the rhythmic, tribal trance music coming from the speakers and off we go. We must be in a convertible given the wind once again whips around my ears as we hit the open road. At least this will be a little more comfortable for the journey back to the hotel. Although on second thoughts, after a long bike ride, a plane trip, the parachute jump and now being in a car, I have absolutely no idea where we are or where we could be heading. We could have crossed state lines for all I know. My curiosity regarding our whereabouts is peaking, as I’m sure is Jeremy’s intention. Even so, I dare not entertain asking the question. So I sit silently, enjoying the psychological space the music freely offers my mind.
Part V
The eye — it cannot choose but see
We cannot bid the ear be still
Our bodies feel; where’er they be
Against, or with our will
— W. Wordsworth 1847
Our journey continues and I am surprised at how energised I feel given my presumed emotional exhaustion. It is as if Jeremy has discovered and unleashed a fertile oasis within my body, which I’d previously regarded as a barren desert. The pores in my skin feel like they are oozing pheromones. I have never felt this intensely alive, so sensual, so sexual, so female. I consider my marriage to Robert as a contrast and my feelings are numb, almost non-existent. But how could they ever compare to the magnitude on the Richter scale that Jeremy creates — could anyone else create such emotional seismic shifts for me? My thoughts are interrupted by Jeremy’s voice as he places his hand on my knee.
‘Do you mind if we talk about some aspects of my research now, while we are driving?’
‘No, not at all.’
‘Just wanted to check, as you looked deep in thought.’ I shake my head to dislodge my feelings.
‘Please, I’d love to hear about it.’
‘Okay, great. As I mentioned earlier, there is a group of doctors and professors from around the globe collaborating to research the connections between physiology and cognitive neuropsychology in regards to sexual activity. I am now heavily involved as a result of my research into the explicit links between sex-related issues and depression. To cut a long story short, I had the good fortune of meeting up with Samuel a few months ago in Hong Kong when both our flights were cancelled due to volcanic ash, so we had the rare opportunity to discuss our work in detail.’
‘Ah, so that explains why he was so up to speed with your work.’
‘No doubt when you met for lunch Sam informed you of their research into the female orgasm and the scientific discrepancies and medical controversy regarding ejaculation.’
I nod in confirmation, fully absorbed in his words. I love it when he is in professional mode and his work fascinates me. I can hear the passion in his voice.
‘We ended up brainstorming the possibility of developing a formula produced from natural serotonin that would not adversely affect the chemical balance of the human brain in the medium to long-term. After much testing and analysis in our labs, we discovered there are potential links between our areas of research, given certain scenarios, that significantly reduce the likelihood of depression — particularly involving the concept of “adult play”. This indirectly led us to analysing the secretion of fluids from female orgasm for each blood type.’
‘Wow, that sounds amazing.’ This is Jeremy at his best, why he is recognised globally for his research. I can’t help but be in awe of his capabilities and the way in which his tangential mind operates to find solutions others completely miss. He is always open to exploring the unlikely.
‘We believe there is another potential link, one that we haven’t explored in detail as yet, which relates to our discussion earlier.’
He pauses and I sense a slight hesitation in his voice.
‘It involves sensory connectivity, the neural pathways that may exist between the body and brain in relation to sexual activity, and the corresponding hormones secreted and released. We need to secure a Research Psychologist before we can progress with our plans for experimentation. Your specific expertise is highly sought after, particularly on a project of this nature and our review board specifically asked me to discuss it with you and assess your interest in the role.’
Jeremy knows full well that professional flattery will get him everywhere and this subject is close to my heart. He is playing his cards well and his timing, as usual, is perfect, especially given the state I’m currently in — that he, in fact, is responsible for.
‘You really are a clever man, Jeremy.’
‘Thank you, as you are a clever woman,’ he says with a smile in his voice. ‘I can