Driven to Distraction

Fritz lectured her about it, even when they weren't in the car.

"Do you know how many serious auto accidents there are a year because of people performing sexual acts while driving?" he said heatedly.

Brenda smiled and gave Fritz her best flirty look to let him know she wasn't taking him seriously. "I have no idea, Fritzy, why don't you tell me all about it?" She stretched her legs out on the couch and turned her head to look at him as he stood in front of her, arms crossed.

"A lot," he said, clearly annoyed with her. "And if we get in an accident in your car, guess who's going to show up? That annoying captain West guy. And you're going to have to tell him that I wrecked your car because you were giving me a hand job."

"Fritz, maybe I can just show Captain West what I was doin' to you to cause the crash," she said in her best honeyed tone.

Now he was mad. "Brenda, I'm serious, hands off me in the car."

"Interestin' double standard you have there, Agent Howard," she said. "Considerin' I was straddlin' you in the driver's seat not wearin' panties just last week. And I do believe you were the instigator of that activity." She raised an eyebrow at him.

"We were stopped, pulled over on a small road. No one was going to get hurt. That's different, Brenda. If we are having a hard time keeping our hands off each other, we pull over and find somewhere private. You know the rules."

"Ah yes, The Rules. All kissin' and touchin' has to be limited to red lights only, not when the car's in motion. Or if we're pulled over somewhere private and then anythin' goes, as long as there is minimal clothin' removal." Fritz didn't seem to pick up on the fact that she was mocking him.

He nodded. "Yes, that's correct. No hand jobs, like you just tried to pull in the car tonight. And certainly no blow jobs, ever. Got it?"

She nodded, biting her inner lip so she wouldn't start laughing. "Got it." She slowly raised her arms up and cradled her head seductively, pushing out her breasts. "This couch is not in motion, Fritz," she whispered. "So why don't you come over here so I can finish what I illegally started in the car?"

As she knew he would, he stood there for a second, torn between being angry and going to her. As usual, sex won out.

Brenda sighed when he lay down on top of her and began to kiss her neck. The car thing has been on ongoing fight since they started dating. Every time she has reached down and unzipped his pants when he's driving, he's gotten angry and swatted her hand away. The few times she was actually able to get a few strokes in he relaxed for a little bit, and then got even angrier at her when he snapped back into reality. But Brenda had no intention of stopping, none whatsoever. Because she knew that just like every man in the world, Fritz would love to get a blow job while driving. He says he doesn't, but the fact that he is so adamant about her not doing it has her convinced that he's given it a lot of thought. Fritzy, thy doth protest too much, she thought with a smirk. She would never tell Fritz this, but she's had some experience in this area, and she knows just how far to bring a man while he's driving so he can still concentrate. She just needs to get Fritz in the car, in an exceptionally aroused mood for something beyond car sex, and she has to move fast. That's been her problem in the past, she decided. She has let too much time elapse between pulling down his zipper and touching him. She needs to be ready, like a runner waiting for the starting gun, so that the time from unzippering to his cock in her mouth is extremely short. Once she has him where she wants him, she has no doubt that the lecturing will stop.

Brenda waited for the right set of circumstances to present themselves before going anywhere near Fritz's zipper. In the car, at least. It was Saturday, and they had plans to go out to a nice restaurant for their anniversary. Every year, Fritz insisted on celebrating the anniversary of their first date. Well, at least that's what he's told everybody, and women swooned at his sweetness. It was actually the anniversary of the first time they slept together. Fritz's reasoning was that he couldn't be sure when they had gone from just friends to "dating," since she never so much as gave him a kiss until two days before they first had sex. So it was just simpler to mark the anniversary of the night he put down her glass of Merlot and kissed her in a way that she knew immediately he'd be staying through breakfast. Brenda smiled at the memory as she checked herself out in the mirror. Makeup looked good, hair looked good, nice jewelry selection…she just had to wait. Fritz walked through the door, as if on cue, and eyed her in her bathrobe. "Honey, you aren't dressed yet?" he said impatiently. "We need to leave in five minutes or we'll be late." He frowned at her.

"Oh, no worries," she said blithely, as she shrugged off the robe and headed into the walk-in closet. "All I need to do is pull on my dress and I'll be ready." She made sure Fritz had time to take in her red lace thong, matching strapless bra, and red fishnet thigh-highs. In the closet, she pulled her new red dress over her head, making sure she didn't smear her lipstick, and tugged the well-fitting dress down past her hips to just below her knees. The modest hemline was balanced by thin spaghetti straps and a deep V neckline. She walked out of the closet and over to Fritz, who seemed a little shellshocked from the eyeful he had gotten the minute before. So Fritz wouldn't suspect Brenda was trying to get him worked up, she asked nonchalantly, "won't it be nice, Fritz, next year we can skip this anniversary, since we will have a weddin' anniversary to celebrate instead?" She busied herself slipping into her red pumps. "Of course, if you want to keep celebratin' this one too, I'm not complainin', as long as I get two presents out of it!" She ventured a glance at him, leaning in the doorway. He was staring at her, his mouth slightly open. She decided to play dumb. "What, is somethin' wrong with me? Lipstick on my teeth?" She started rubbing imaginary lipstick off her front teeth with a worried expression on her face until Fritz walked over to her and grabbed her hands. "No, it's not that, it's just, my god Brenda, you look so incredibly sexy." She surreptitiously glanced at the bulge in his crotch. Yep, she looked sexy alright. Fritz moved closer in to her. "Hey," he said in his come hither voice, "since we both know what this anniversary is about, why don't we skip dinner and stay home and celebrate it…appropriately?" He ran a finger along her collar bone and down between her breasts. She stuck her lower lip out.

"Fritz, I've been lookin' forward to this dinner out, which was your idea, by the way," she said, in her best pouty voice. Now after I got all dressed up you want to stay in?"

"I'll help you undress," he offered, his finger resting between her breasts. She slapped his hand away.

"I'd be more than happy to accept your assistance in undressin' when we get back home. But for now, look who's makin' us late for our reservations?" She walked out of the room without looking back at him. She heard him sigh and turn to follow her.

Dinner was fun. Fritz had picked a new upscale "Asian fusion" restaurant in Hollywood to take Brenda, and the food was great. Brenda had had two glasses of Merlot on top of a Mai Tai, and wasn't feeling any pain. She and Fritz were trading funny stories, each better than the last.

"The first time Daddy came up to DC to visit me—Momma had come several times, but Daddy was boycottin' the place until my senior year because he didn't want me to go to Georgetown in the first place—well, I couldn't resist havin' some fun with him. So I took him and Momma to a sushi restaurant in Dupont Circle. Daddy's a meat and potatoes man, so when he saw what they were servin' for dinner—little tiny things on plates—well, he was none too pleased. And then when he looked at the menu and he couldn't understand what any of it meant, he got even madder. Momma tried to calm him down, and I told him I would order for him, because I knew what kind of seafood he liked." Brenda had to cover her mouth to stifle her laugh at the memory.

"You didn't!" Fritz said.

"I did," she chortled. "Daddy had no idea sushi was raw fish, and for effect I ordered him all sashimi, so when it came, he bellowed out, loud enough for the whole restaurant to hear, "what the hell is this? You're expectin' me to eat raw fish?" Brenda wiped the tears in her eyes. "He was so mad at me he wouldn't talk to me for two days. God, I was evil back then."

"Were?" Fritz grinned. She felt his hand on her knee, which snaked up underneath her dress up to her thigh. She didn't care if the tablecloths were long enough, he was playing right into her hands. She gave him a smoldering look.

"Well, no dessert for you," he said briskly. "Not that they have anything chocolate here anyways. Are you ready to head out?" He looked at her hopefully.

She shook her head. "I was going to get some tea. I'm enjoyin' myself. What's the rush?" She gave him one of her smiles, and he couldn't help but smile back.

Fritz ordered tea also, and they continued with their banter. Brenda innocuously reached over and began to caress Fritz's fingers, paying special attention to his forefinger. It may have seemed like she was just mindlessly stroking it with her own, but she was in fact mimicking the motions she made with her mouth when she went down on him. Up, down, around the tip, and down again on his finger she went, chatting the whole time so none of it would seem intentional. Fritz seemed to notice it, though, and stared at her hand on his longingly.

God, I could be a hooker, she thought to herself, with a little bit of pride. Her Grandma Anna, whom she loved dearly, once told her that a Southern woman should be a chef in the kitchen, a maid in the parlor, and a whore in the bedroom. Well, Grandma Anna would be proud of me tonight, she thought, because the way I'm dressed, I clearly have one of those things down pat. And it certainly wasn't cleaning or cooking.

"What are you smiling at?" Fritz asked her.

She waived her hand. "Oh, I was just thinkin' about my Grandma Anna and how funny she was. I wish you got to meet her before she died, Fritz. She would have loved you."

Fritz nodded. "Your mother told me about her, about how outspoken and stubborn she was. She said it was some strange twist of fate that she ended up giving birth to a carbon copy of her own mother. You two were like peas in a pod."

Brenda nodded. "Yup, Grandma Anna was the one who taught me never to take any crap from anyone. She had to be tough, because my grandpa died when my momma was just a little girl, and Grandma had to raise three kids on her own. And she never lost her sense of humor, or her outrageousness." Brenda paused, thinking back to her childhood. "I was her favorite grandchild, and I used to spend a ton of time at her house. She told me some really wild stories about her youth that I don't think even Momma knows about. And she told me what it was like to be a workin' woman in the 1930's, long before the Rosie the Riveter era, and how badly men treated her. Talk about bein' a woman in a man's world." Brenda finished her cup of tea.

"You do sound like your grandmother's clone. So if personalities skip a generation in your family, that means if we have a daughter, she might have your mother's temperament?" Fritz asked. "I could definitely live with that." He took Brenda's hand in his.

No no no, she thought. Nothing ruins sexual tension faster than talking about kids. "Or," Brenda said slowly, as she reached in her purse for her red lipstick, "she could end up just like me, and we'd be spendin' our late 50's waitin' up to all hours of the night for her to get back from her dates." Brenda applied the lipstick slowly, rubbing her lips together. Ahh, that seemed to have done it, she thought. He was getting that look back in his eyes. No more talk about babies.

"Honey, I'm ready to go when you are," she said, looking at him. She leaned in closer. "Now we can go home and celebrate the anniversary—how did you say it—appropriately."

"I paid the bill," he said, his voice low. "Let's go and find the valet."

She noticed he buttoned his suit jacket before he stood up, most likely to cover up his erection. Oh yea, now I really have him where I want him, she thought, feeling very pleased with herself.

It was a warm night, but Fritz still held her close to him as they waited for their car. He had his hand around her waist and gently massaged her hip, occasionally leaning in closer to kiss her neck. She pressed close to him, a little closer to than necessary, to feel his erection against her, growing at a steady rate. But as the Valet pulled up in Fritz's car, she realized now was the hard part. So to speak.

As Fritz opened the passenger door for her, she paused to give him a open-mouthed, albeit brief, kiss. "I'm lookin' forward to the rest of our celebration," she said, looking into his eyes.

"Me too," Fritz said gruffly.

"So what are you waitin' for," she said softly. "Get in the car and take me home." He stared at her, taking in her legs and, Brenda could tell, mentally reviewed all the things that were under the dress, before he seemed to regain his focus and walked around to the driver's seat. At this point, even the people in the restaurant could see his erection.

They weren't out of the parking lot before Fritz reached over and ran his hand under her dress and up her thigh, like he did at the restaurant. This type of touching in the car was clearly against The Rules, but Brenda wasn't going to say anything. Fritz grinned as he ran his fingers over the fabric of her stockings.

"Red fishnet thigh-highs?" he asked, amused. "I do believe I have seen these before as part of one of your amazing lingerie outfits."

"You think they were too much?" Brenda asked, trying to sound modest.

"For a dinner in Hollywood? Absolutely not. You look incredible. I was just afraid every other guy in the restaurant would mistake you as a movie star and start hitting on you, you look so hot."

"Oh stop," she said, playfully swatting his leg, as his hand slipped higher. "Flattery will get you everywhere, Agent Howard. Besides, I'd tell them all that I was with the incredibly sexy dark-haired man and I don't have eyes for anyone but him." She parted her legs to give his wandering hand better access. Best to keep him talking before he realizes he's breaking The Rules. "Although the waiter was certainly interested in checking out my breasts."

"And did you find him good-looking?" Fritz said, jealousy in his voice.

Jealousy was a powerful aphrodisiac for men, Brenda knew, and decided to use it. She shrugged. "He was pretty easy on the eyes, I have to admit. Real nice muscles and all. But a bit too young for me."

Fritz was used to other men ogling Brenda, especially when she all dressed up, and it normally didn't bother him. But tonight, it brought out a possessiveness she had rarely seen with him, except around Will Pope. "I thought he was a pretty boy," Fritz grumbled.

His fingers grazed the exposed flesh at the top of her thigh high.

"Oh I agree," she said, trying to stop herself from reacting to Fritz's caresses. And I personally have always liked older men." She looked at him pointedly. "Because they know a lot more about what turns a woman on."

"Hey, I'm only four years older than you."

"Yea, but you're still older and wiser," she said seductively.

She felt his hand continue moving up, until he hit her soaking wet g-string. Fritz drew a sharp intake of air. "God, Brenda," he growled, his voice sounding like silk sandpaper. "You are so wet." He successfully made a left-hand turn with only one hand on the wheel, and when back onto a straight road again, he caressed the outline of her sex and she sucked her breath in. She was waiting for him to pull his hand back, realizing he was violating his own Rules, but he didn't show any sign of stopping. Okay, this is different than what she had planned, but it will work out just fine. She opened her legs a little wider and surreptitiously adjusted her seat back to she was reclining back a bit. "Fritzy, you make me this wet just bein' around you," she said in her best bedroom voice. And when he pushed her thong aside and put a finger in her, she knew things were going very, very well, and the Rulebook just got thrown out of the window.

She stopped her scheming so she could enjoy what Fritz was doing to her, not that she could think anyways when he was touching her like that. Her flimsy, damp thong was not in the way at all, so Fritz had nothing to hinder him. He put a second finger in her and she moaned as his other fingers dragged through her wet folds. He found her clit and began to massage it. "Oh Fritzy, that feels wonderful. Don't stop."

He did stop moving his fingers, just for a brief second. "We should pull off somewhere," he whispered. "So I can focus on you better."

"Fritz Howard, don't you dare stop touchin' me," she said. "And don't you dare pull off on the side of the road. I worked hard to look real sexy for you tonight, and I deserve better than a quickie with the steerin' wheel pressin' in my back. This, however, what you are doin' to me—oh god—feels like an appetizer for things to come."

Fritz nodded in agreement and continued to work her with his fingers, and Brenda's arousal grew. He had never done this to her in the car before, because such behavior was forbidden, and it really turned her on. She glanced over at Fritz, and his erection was so large his pants were tented until the seams stretched. Oh, he's not gonna complain when I give him some relief from that, she thought.

The thing Brenda liked about her body is she never had a problem reaching orgasm, especially with Fritz's experienced handling of her clit, and she was on the edge quickly. Her pulse quickened, she screwed up her eyes tightly, called out Fritz's name a few times, and then reached her climax. Fritz rode it out with her, his gentle fingers drawing out every last drop of pleasure he could for her, until she motioned for him to remove his hand. With her eyes closed, she breathed deeply, recovering from an intense orgasm and choosing her next move.

Fritz had just merged on to a relatively quite highway, a rarity around LA. No time like the present, she thought. She opened her yes and looked at him with adoration. "Oh Fritz, that was great. And quite unexpected." She looked at the bulge in his pants. "If only there was something I could do for you." She sighed with feigned regret.

"You can, when we get home," he said, and with that, Brenda unbuckled her seatbelt and quickly slid her upper body across the console so her face was in his lap. She moved so quickly that Fritz didn't seem to register what was going on. Brenda pressed her advantage and drew down his zipper, and his erection nearly popped out of his boxers. She grabbed the base of him and took him in her mouth and began to suck, hard. There was no time to teasing. She had to get him to that point where he wouldn't make her stop, and he had to get him there, quickly.

"Oh fuck," Fritz swore. "Brenda, you have to stop, really. Oh god that's amazing …really, you know the rules…Jesus Christ, this is not good. Ohhh god."

Brenda listened to the two sides of Fritz's brain argue it out, saying nothing. She slowed down a bit to make sure she paid plenty of attention to the tip of him, sucking and teasing all his sensitive spots. He moaned and bucked his hips.

"This isn't safe," he said. "If I come…ohhh like that….I going to crash the car. Seriously Brenda…please…at least slow down or something." He scooted back to give her more room.

Bingo. She got him right where she wanted him, and she could tell he was enjoying this as much as she was. And he finally reached the point of acceptance that this was way too good to stop. She felt it was safe for her to pull him out of his mouth to tell him, "I won't make you come, I promise. If you're gettin' close, I'll slow down. And you started this, by the way," she couldn't resist adding. And before her interlude gave him a chance to change his mind, she took him in again, this time gently sucking. She looked at her watch. Judging from the highway they just got on, and the light traffic she had seen, they should be home in 10 minutes. She just needed to keep him on edge for that amount of time, and the finale can be in their driveway. No problem, she thought, returning to her work. When his hand rested on her head to caress her hair, she felt like running a victory lap. Ahh, whatever Brenda Johnson wants, Brenda Johnson gets, she thought to herself.

Brenda could tell Fritz was fighting to be as alert as possible under the current circumstances. She felt his ass and leg muscles tense, and she glanced up to see white-knuckled hands gripping the steering wheel. She knew him well enough to know that his mind was going a million miles a minute, trying to balance intense sexual pleasure with concern that something was going to go wrong. Her job was to increase the former to decrease the latter. She changed her pace a bit, just to tip the balance, and Fritz gripped her hair in his hands. Unfortunately, the pendulum swung back despite her best efforts, and was capable of speech again. "Brenda, you're not wearing a seatbelt," he whispered, and her tongue licked the large vein on the underside of his cock, making him moan. "Honey, it's not safe. I don't want you to get hurt." She ran her teeth up his shaft lightly, and he shuttered. For the second time, her work was interrupted, and now she was pissed. She took him out of her mouth just enough to say, "Fritz, will you please just shut the hell up and enjoy this?" She went back to work, and Fritz seemed taken aback at her annoyance. And he did, indeed, just let himself enjoy the feeling of Brenda on him, and he didn't say another word, although the car was far from silent.

A couple of times, Brenda knew he was getting close, and true to her promise, she slowed down to only light licks and kisses, to Fritz's sigh of relief, until she could tell he had backed away from the precipice. She just snuck a quick glance down at her watch and saw that10 minutes had passed when she felt the car slow and turn in to their driveway. As Fritz turned off the engine, Brenda went for broke, wanting him to explode.

To her surprise, Fritz chuckled and pulled her off of him by the shoulders. "Don't you want…" she started, but he put a finger over her lips. "Now we are home, we are going to play the rest of this game my way," he said brusquely. Brenda wasn't sure what he meant by "game," but she loved the rare occasions where Fritz demanded control. The look he gave her, somewhere between desperation and anger, told her it was one of those times, and she shivered. She decided to turn the reins over to him. "Okay," she nodded. "Just tell me what you want me to do." She smiled at him, but he didn't smile back. "Out of the car," he ordered. Brenda walked to the door quickly and fumbled with the front door key, nervous and excited by the rare appearance of this side of Fritz. She finally pushed the door open, and he was right behind her.

She reached for the lights, and he grabbed her hand, and said "no," in the deepest baritone she had ever heard come out of his mouth. He sounded like Barry White, and she giggled at the thought. "Something funny?" Fritz asked, taking her other wrist and slowly pushing her up against the wall. "Feeling pleased that your little scheme worked?" He dropped his jacket and pressed himself against her. He was still unzipped and fully erect.

"Scheme?" she asked innocently, aware of another rush of wetness between her legs, "What scheme?"

Fritz leaned down and began to kiss her shoulders, pushing the thin spaghetti straps out of the way. "You always have to get your way, don't you?" he said. "No matter what it is, no matter how small." He pulled her dress down far enough to expose the strapless bra, which he unsnapped effortlessly and dropped to the floor. He kissed her breasts, and she moaned. "I know you, Brenda Leigh Johnson, and when I told you for the hundredth time not to touch me in the car, I realized I had presented you with a challenge." He took a nipple in his mouth and sucked hard, running his teeth over the tip. She leaned her head back, gasping for air. "And you left me alone in the car for so long that I knew you were planning something big," he said, as he left one nipple and traveled to the other one. "And I was right, wasn't I?"

Brenda was rendered speechless by the stupendous feeling of her breast in his hot mouth. When he released her, she asked without thinking, "how did you know?"

He chuckled as he lifted her dress above her hips and massaged her ass. "The red fishnet stockings," he said, nodding his head toward her legs. "You know how much fishnet stockings turn me on in bed, but for you to wear them out in public? Honey, I don't think even street walkers wear red fishnet hose. You had to be pretty determined to dress that provocatively in public. Why you were so determined to give me a blow job in the car is beyond me, except, of course, because I told you you couldn't."

Any retort Brenda might have formed was prevented by her surprise at Fritz's next move. He grabbed her ass and pulled her up against the wall, her legs on either side of him, forcing her to grip his shoulders. She wrapped her legs around his hips, but before she could truly balance her weight, she felt Fritz once again push her thong to the side, and he plunged into her in one smooth motion. "Oh god," she whispered, shocked by the suddenness of him entering her, and the strangeness of being pressed up against the wall. She managed to kick off her red heels and then wrapped her legs around Fritz's hips as best she could, and he pulled back and thrust deeply into her again. In this position, she wasn't able to thrust back, which was at once both frustrating and exciting.

Fritz said nothing; the exertion from the sex and supporting her body weight seemed to use most of his energy. He pistoned away, as deep as he could go in with each thrust, not pausing for kisses or caresses. This isn't making love, she thought, this is fucking. And it felt amazing. Each time he slammed into her he ran square into her clit, and she cried out in pleasure, trying to arch her back. She dug her fingers into Fritz's shoulders and threw her head back, the only part of her body she could really move. Her moans became louder, and she felt the sweat pour down Fritz's neck and back, as her own perspiration soaked through her new dress. She bit her lip bloody holding back, but when she came, she came so hard she managed to arch her back, and Fritz was pushed away from her body for a second. She dug her nails into Fritz's shoulder as he picked up the pace and thrust even deeper into her, to the point of discomfort, seeking his own release. He came silently, his body shuttering as she felt him twitch inside of her, gasping for breath. He held her against the wall for a few moments until his breathing slowed, and then he pulled out of her and gently helped her slide down the wall. He took her hand and led her to the couch, collapsed on it and brought her on top of him.

Brenda lay there for awhile, trying to come back down from the high. Fritz was stroking her hair lightly, and when thought returned, she realized that was a good sign. He had known all along what she had been up to all evening, and she didn't think he was very happy with her. Of course, if his way of showing displeasure was to shove her up against the wall and fuck her silly, than she might have to think of a few more things to piss him off.

Finally she raised her head and studied his face. "Fritzy, are you mad at me?," she asked, in a small voice.

He shook his head and continued to play with her hair. "No, I'm not mad at you Brenda, not anymore. I just don't understand you sometimes."

"Just some of the time? Well then, you're doin' pretty good, especially compared with everyone else in the world."

He looked at her and shook his head again. ""Why is it that the word 'no' to you is a challenge? I ask you to do one thing, such as not distract me when I'm driving, and you take it as a personal challenge to ignore me and do what you want to do. I have to say that at times like this I admire your parents for not abandoning you in the woods as a child to be raised by wolves."

Brenda frowned. "I'm not sure there are wolves in Georgia. Besides Fritz, that's a mean thing to say. If you feel like hauling me off to the woods because I'm so impossible, now might be the time, before we get married."

"And risk never seeing you wear red fishnet hose again? Are you kidding me?"

Brenda leaned really close to him, like she did to suspects she wanted to pin down with her eyes, and said, "admit it, Fritz, you enjoyed it."

He met her gaze, used to her tactics. "Of course I did, Brenda. It's every guy's dream to get a blow job while driving. But that's not the point."

He admitted it, she thought, feeling very pleased with herself. "You had fun, so what is your point, Fritz?"

"The point is, Brenda, I have two DUI's on my record, and if I get any other moving violations, I could be in serious danger of losing my license. That's the point."

Brenda felt the bottom fall out of her stomach. She hadn't thought about the DUI's, and that they might be the reason Fritz was so worried about being distracted while driving. Although they have talked about his history with alcohol many times since she first found out about it, the two DUI's, which precipitated the biggest fight in their relationship, were still a delicate topic. Brenda didn't blame Fritz for not coming directly out and saying why he had The Rules; he shouldn't have had to. It should have been understood, if only Brenda was more…understanding.

Brenda buried her face in his shoulder. "I didn't make the connection. You're right, I was too busy tryin' to get my way, thinkin' it was all for fun. I am so sorry." She couldn't bring herself to look at him.

"Hey, it's okay, I should have made it clear why I am so paranoid about getting into an accident. Because when your touching me, I feel like I'm drunk, and it's pretty obvious I don't drive too well in that condition. That's all. And any other man would be thrilled that his fiancée was so intent on giving him a…treat."

Brenda shook her head against his shoulder, still too ashamed to look at him. "Don't let me get out of this, Fritz. Be mad at me, because you should be. I didn't—I just didn't think."

"Hey," Fritz said softly. "I have my own apologizing to do too, Brenda. I'm sorry if I was a little rough with you tonight. I think the combination of being so stimulated and yet so worried and keyed up, and a little pissed off, turned me into a caveman. I hope I didn't hurt you, honey."

Still not looking at him, she spoke to his shoulder. "No, nothin' to apologize for. I found that to be very excitin'. You're incredibly sexy when you act like a caveman, do you know that?"

"Brenda, look at me. Come on, I'm not mad any more, look at me." She finally did. And he didn't look mad, just bemused. "I'm glad you liked the sex, but I'm going to feel really guilty if you have any bruises on your back tomorrow." He paused. "And you were right, what you said in the car, I did start things first. Even if you hadn't planned to do what you did, I gave you a clear message that I was abandoning my rules for the evening. And I could have stopped you if I really wanted to."

Brenda shook her head. "No, you couldn't have," she said getting off of Fritz and standing up.

"Yes I could have, any time," Fritz countered, pulling himself up into a seated position on the couch.

"No, you couldn't have, honey." She cocked her head and gave him one of her patented adorable smiles. "I'm just way too good." And she turned her back on him and walked to the bedroom, knowing he would follow. Brenda Johnson never could resist a challenge.