"Nan."

"Are you making progress with Nan?"

"I hope so. She was suffering from vaginismus. I have the feeling she's relaxing somewhat."

Gayle pulled off her blouse. "But you don't know yet."

"I should know after our next session."

"Penetration?" asked Gayle quietly.

"Yes. But there's a problem that makes me a little nervous." He wrinkled his brow. "I'm not sure how to handle it. . ."

"What's the problem?"

"Well, to be honest, I believe my patient is falling in love with me. She left her boyfriend-no loss, he was a bastard -and today she offered to move in with me."

"That's a no-no, Paul."

"I told her so."

Gayle reached behind to unhook her brassiere. "I mean, the rest of it, too. You can't allow a patient to fall in love with you."

"I'm not encouraging it, believe me. Still, I can see it happening. It's making me uncomfortable. She's a nice woman. I don't know how to deal with her."

"Maybe you're not being professional enough?"

"I'm trying, Gayle."

"Maybe not enough. Maybe you're sorry for her and got too involved." She paused. "How come your Nan left her boyfriend?"

"I can't say I objected. In fact, I may have encouraged it. From what she tells, he's an animal. He could be the cause of her trouble. Anyway, she turned her back on him."

Gayle had not taken off her bra yet. "Because you encouraged her? Paul, it doesn't sound like you're handling her right. Maybe this is something Dr. Freeberg should know about."

"What could he do?"

Gayle said firmly, "He'd take you off the case. Knowing Dr. Freeberg as I do, he would never permit a surrogate to become seriously emotionally involved with a patient."

"I'm not the one who's involved," said Brandon patiently. "Nan is."

"Then it's Nan, okay. But you let her fall for you without taking steps to prevent it. Dr. Freeberg would not allow that to happen or certainly would not let it go on. Have you told him about this?"

"No."

Gayle stepped nearer to Brandon. "You must tell him. It's your duty to tell him."

"You think he'd actually take me off the case?"

"In ten seconds flat."

"But the therapy isn't completed."

"He'll find someone to complete it."

"Gayle, I'm the only male surrogate in his stable."

"I guarantee, he'll find your Nan another one."

Brandon shook his head. "I don't like it. My quitting, someone else coming in-it could hurt her deeply."

"Dr. Freeberg would know how to manage it. You owe it to yourself, to Freeberg, and to her to report the whole thing."

Brandon shrugged. "I guess you're right. It makes me a little sad to have to do this, but I will."

"That's better," said Gayle cheerfully. "Well, here's something that'll maybe cheer you up."

She drew off her bra, and her breasts almost jumped out at Brandon.

With one arm immediately around her, he bent to kiss the nipples of each breast. "You're fantastic," he exhaled. He started kissing and tonguing her breasts again, and as he did so he pulled her up against him.

She clung to him a moment, then pushed away. "Hey, mister, I don't feel anything. From you, I mean. Take off your robe."

He complied, and they both looked down at his flaccid penis.

"Dear one," Gayle said, "what gives? Don't you feel like it?"

"Of course I feel like it. I-it's just that-"

Gayle was eyeing him carefully. "Just what, Paul?"

"Well, I won't lie to you. The fact is I had an orgasm earlier, but give me a little while . . ."

Gayle's hands flew up to her breasts, covering them.

"You had an orgasm-when you were with Nan?" she said incredulously. "With Nan?"

"Let me explain, Gayle. We were doing non-demand genital pleasuring-"

"Some non-demand!"

"And we were stroking each other. We were just following the rules, and it got a bit out of control . . . I mean, she'd orgasmed when she was with me yesterday, and she wanted me to, so-"

"So you let her get you off!"

"I didn't want to. I couldn't prevent it."

"The hell you couldn't. What you wanted was the girl who loves you to make you happy, because maybe you love her."

"Gayle, stop it. You're way off base, I swear. I don't care for her . . ."

Gayle snatched up her bra and was putting it on. "And as for me, I don't care for you. You allow another woman to get you off, and now you expect me to line up and follow her." She pulled on her blouse. "No way, my friend! Not in a million years!"

Brandon grabbed her arms. "On my word of honor, Gayle, there's no one to be jealous of."

"Who's jealous? I'm just an old-fashioned monogamist. One man, one woman. That's the way I intend to live my life. I don't need a polygamist to mess things up. As for you, tonight you can play with yourself! Good-bye!"

And with that, Gayle Miller stormed out of the bedroom and out of the apartment.

For Gayle, it had been a bad night.

Once she had returned to her house and bedroom, and gone to bed, she had been unable to sleep. Fantasies about this affair-she could only imagine it as an affair, not therapeutic sessions-that Paul was having with the woman named Nan filled her mind. Gayle had no idea what this Nan looked like, or how she behaved, but repeatedly she conjured up a picture of a young woman more attractive than herself and more spontaneously giving.

Lying in bed, trying to find sleep, Gayle was enveloped by the fantasies. Nan's genitals were beautiful, perfect, more lovely than her own. Paul worshipped them. Nan's orgasms were probably better than her own, as was the orgasm he enjoyed that had been induced by her, and there was no way Gayle could compete with such love.

As the night wore on, Gayle tried to banish the fantasies and replace them with reason. This Nan wasn't a normal woman like herself. Nan was there with Paul because she had to be treated for things that were wrong with her. Gayle did not have those things wrong with her. Paul liked Nan, was caring about her, as he should be, but he had unreservedly professed his love for Gayle herself.

Her fantasies had been senseless, she decided. She knew better than that. Love and commitment were not in the crotch but in the heart. Paul loved her from his heart, as she loved him. The problem was not Nan, nor Nan and Paul, but her own jealousy. Yes, Paul meant enough to her to make her feel jealous if he gave any part of himself to another woman. From her earlier sessions with Dr. Freeberg, Gayle knew that jealousy came from a basic insecurity, a therapeutic issue she had thought she had worked out. To expect a totally monogamous relationship was unrealistic. Because total monogamy couldn't exist. Men looked at other women, and women looked at other men. Were flirtatious, and even more. But this did not invalidate their dominant love for one mate. Paul could be allowed his minor side thing with Nan, yet keep Gayle close in his heart as someone he cherished the most.

Having thought that out, she felt more at ease and drowsy. And finally, before dawn, she slept.

When she awakened to the bright sun from behind her curtains, and she saw the hands on her bedside clock, she knew that she had overslept. Not by much, but she was an early riser. Once her head had cleared, she was glad she had caught up on her sleep. She needed rest because she needed all her strength.

There was a trying day that lay ahead of her. First, Adam Demski in the late afternoon. Then, Chet Hunter in the early evening. With each of them, the scheduled exercise was initial penetration. It was crucial and important.

But, she reminded herself, what was also important was to straighten things out with Paul Brandon.

He was, she knew, usually a late sleeper. So the odds were that he might still be home.

Gayle sat up, took the telephone in her lap, and dialed Paul.

Happily, after a few rings, he answered the phone. His voice was fuzzy, but he was there.

"Paul," she said, "it's Gayle. Did I wake you up?"

"Yes. I'm glad you did. I-"

"Let me say something right away, Paul. I am abjectly apologetic. I behaved like a fool last night. Now I can admit why. I was jealous. Green, unalloyed jealousy. I think I was wrong to be. Was I?"

"Gayle, I love you more than anyone and anything on earth."

"The same for me. Paul, will you come over here tonight? Let me make it up to you."

"Can't wait."

"Nine thirty," she said. "I can't wait either."

They were stretched out on the broad mat together, both nude, and Gayle propped herself on an elbow and decided to be direct with Adam Demski.

"If you're wondering what's next, Adam, it's penetration."

She saw concern cross his countenance.

She went on easily. "This will not be the only attempt, Adam. There'll be another-maybe two more. I don't want you becoming nervous and starting to look at yourself as a performer."

"Do you think I can do it?"

"I feel you can. That's why we're going to undertake the exercise. I'll be the dominant partner, the one on top. The exercise is called stuffing and quiet penetration."

"Stuffing?" he said. "What does that . . . ?"

"Let me explain, Adam. Most men think that to achieve intercourse they have to have an erection that is rock hard. Well, that's not true, not true at all."

"It isn't?"

Gayle resumed earnestly. "I'll let you in on a secret, Adam. Intercourse can be accomplished with an almost flaccid penis. If you get only five percent swollen, not one hundred percent, it's enough. Most men prefer the missionary position, themselves on top, because it's more macho. But with this exercise, with me on top, I'll be better able to direct and control what follows. With myself above you, I can use gravity, instead of working against it. We'll start with this soft penetration. Next time or the time after, we'll do the harder penetration, with the male superior and thrusting. But for this time it is me on top."

"I don't know . . ."

"I know. I know you've solved your impotency because I've seen it. I know you can feel pleasure, feel sensuous, and make me feel good, too. Let's not be grim and serious. Let's be playful, have fun. I'm going to ask you to kiss my breasts and run your hands over my body, and then I'm going to caress you all over, including your genitals. I'll tell you when you're ready."

Resignation left Demski's face and made way for interest and curiosity.

Gayle fell back against the pillow. "Adam, touch my breasts, kiss them and the rest of me."

He half rose and began to oblige her.

After minutes of this foreplay, Gayle gently pushed him down on his back and began to run her fingers over his face, his chest, allowing them to play across his upper thighs. Then at last she began to play with his testicles and stroke his penis.

She could feel his penis enlarging, not to a fully erect position, but definitely enlarging.

It was enough, she decided. "Lie quietly, Adam, and don't move."

Gracefully, she mounted him, taking his barely swollen penis in the fingers of one hand and directing it to her vagina. Slowly, easily, she began putting the penis into her vulva, and she could feel his small shaft inside her. "Remember The Clock, Adam? When you used your finger inside me? Now it's your penis inside me."

"I'm not sure I'm in you."

"Okay, I'll prove you are." Astride him, Gayle tightened her inner vaginal muscles. "Did you feel that?"

"And how!"

"No moving, Adam. No thrusting or trying to perform. This exercise should accomplish no more than prove to you that you can get inside me. The real purpose is not to perform but to get you used to being potent enough to enter me, to have your penis in a woman's vagina in a non-threatening, non-demanding situation. The whole idea is to let you know that you can get enough of an erection to enter a woman and to sustain that erection inside her. How does it feel?"

"Good, very good."

Although she tried to teach her patients not to be detached, Gayle made herself become detached in these moments. She wanted to be a spectator to his reaction.

They had been motionless for some time, and inside her vulva, she could feel him softening and receding slightly.