Greg was waiting. He patiently sat with Rebecca, and waited to be charmed again, under her spell. What would she do tonight? What crazy outfit would she throw on??? What color were her panties?
    But nothing happened. At first, Greg felt like there was some fantastic electric charge between them. Like perpetual static electricity, her eyes would hit his, and there was a spark. But after awhile, nothing unfolded and Greg noticed she seemed disinterested, distant even.
    And then it hit Greg. Rebecca was different from other women. She didn't need all the stupid games and rules. Reverse Psychology went contrary to her current mode. Saving Julie had struck right to center of something maternal within Rebecca. Bullshit was no longer needed. Lies were distasteful and should be avoided.
    When Greg refused her text, it was a big downer for her. The more Greg pulled her inward with open arms, the more she would reciprocate those feelings. No more reverse psychology. No more squabbles and disagreements.
     He wanted to be around her at all times now. Not 24/7, that was impossible with work and all, but the majority of his day should be with her. Everyone has 3 shifts in their life: work, sleep and free time. We work 8 hours a day, a third of our life. We sleep for about the same 1/3. That leaves just 8 hours for us to devote time to what we want. He supposed he slept next to her in bed for 8 hours too. But that was ordinary now. It became routine to expect a blessed nights rest lying prone beside his beloved. Besides, they didn't talk to each other in their sleep, or interact. Greg was going to put in full time hours with Rebecca everyday.
    But still, she was uncharacteristically quiet tonight. She chewed on her fingernail endlessly. It would start to bleed soon if she continued.
    "Is everything okay?" Greg says cautiously. A woman's mind can be like a minefield, one that must be navigated expertly.
    "Everything is fine." she says distractedly. Greg sometimes hated how girls just wanted to be nice all the time. They avoided conflict, but took other avenues to undermine and get back at a person.
    "You seem upset," Greg mentions, "are you having second thoughts about the money?"
    She turns and looks at him as if he had a scrotum hanging from his forehead, completely dismayed.
    "What?" she says in a raised voice.
    "It's not a problem, I think we can cancel the check." Greg says diplomatically.
    It was worth mentioning. They had just undertaken a large financial transaction, and she might have some misgivings.
    "I'm not an Indian-Giver," Rebecca says sourly, "I don't take back what is a gift."
    "Okay," he says, "but you're not the usual spunky Rebecca that I've come to know and love."
    He puts his head comically on her shoulder and looks up at her with woeful eyes.
    "Get your bald head offa me!!" she says with vigor, shrugging his large skull from her collarbone. Greg is wounded by the jab at his male pattern baldness. He forgot how much it hurts to have a hot chick insult you in a serious, non-joking manner. She immediately regrets saying it. But just the same, she continues her tirade before she can zip her lips.
    "Oh, now you want affection? It's all about when you want it, is it?" she spits at him.
    "I knew it," Greg says, confirming his previous suspicions, "you're pissed off because we didn't fuck that night you sent me those pics. Admit it."
    "I'm so lonely always. It's this big empty house and it's just me and Julie all the time." Rebecca says, scowling, "I try to be spur-of-the-moment, and you just disregard me. So leave me alone!!"
    She gets up and huffs and puffs her way over to the DVD cabinet. She has a complex accordian-shaped drawer on her DVD stack, and they fold outward away from the movies silently. It looks somewhat like the folding of a roadmap's shape. She hurls it open, but it is a little eerie to hear no screeching or hinges as it is swung wide. It might've been preferable to Rebecca if it slammed, as well. She wanted to hear a noise or something to emphasize her point. But did she even know what that point was? This wasn't business. That matter was settled at the bank. It was personal.
    "So, we're fighting now, I guess?" Greg says, bewildered, "Okay then. In my defense, you were on your period at the time."
    "That doesn't matter. It was almost done with. I mean, I would still--shut up, Greg!!" she says loudly.
    Wow, fucking a girl while she was on her bloody week-long retreat. That was new to Greg. He would definitely have tried it, had he known she would go through with everything. Would they have to use protection during it? Wasn't that still before ovulation, before the next egg was down the fallopian tube? Did menses blood infect a urinal tract? Greg is lost in a whirlwind of perverted, yet practical questions.
    "that can't be pleasant for you. Getting all wet, with, you know. The blood. It would be like a bloody adobe paste, or something!!" Greg jokes.
    "Is that all you think about is sex? I want it to be spontaneous. I don't want to have to text you to tell you I'm horny.
    "I'm not a mind reader. But YOU can probably read my brain. Yes, I think about sex all the time. Yes, I'm sorry, I am a heterosexual male. I've gotta propagate the species, know what I mean? The fuck cycle must continue!!"
    "Keep talking like that, Greg, and you'll have to go home."
That's not what she wanted. But it shut him up right quick. Had he called her bluff, she might've caved in, but for now she had him where she wanted him.
    She did want to have sex. But half of the thrill for her was seducing him. The way his beady little green eyes twinkled when he was turned on. When she had swallowed, the look on his face was priceless. Whenever she thought of has face all squeezed up, stupid and dazed looking, it always made her giggle.
    She liked making him sweat. That's what made her moist most of all. Foreplay was part of it, but things got steamy for her when she felt safe and secure. Behind closed doors, they could let their freak flag fly. But she wanted to oversee all aspects of sex. It was her territory. There was the potential for him to cut forth through her erotic displays, and start the screwing, that was fine. But she wanted to initiate everything. Her sex drive was heavy, more than any chick Greg had ever been with. They both knew the power she had over him. But she didn't leverage it. It wasn't that she was punishing him, really.
    She wasn't blackmailing for sex. Rebecca was acquainted with many girls who simply used men like the bank, the grocery, and the gas station, all rolled into one. It was give and take: They took the money, and gave their pussy. It wasn't quite prostitution in a business sense. But it was from a moral standpoint.
    Rebecca didn't need money from Greg. There was nothing that Greg could give her that she couldn't afford herself. She wanted his company more than anything. Greg was a gentleman. He always tried hard to be suave, and she rewarded him an A for effort.

LINK TO PART 77: http://www.ebaumsworld.com/blogs/view/82582370/