She knows it's coming, and it's perfect, drawing a soft cry from her. Joan wishes there was some little thing like that she knew would drive Ted wild. To the extent her pleasure-suffused brain allows, she resolves to find every little thing that thrills him.

It's tempting to close her eyes and just let the sensation wash over her, but she keeps her eyes open and locked on his, because that connection is what's important, and what takes the pleasure to a whole new level than mere sensation.

"Ted," she pants. "I'm close..."