 Oh, the doctors xxx had xxx assured him that the operation to remove xxx the tumor in xxx his larynx carried only limited risks; it wasn't as if they were digging around in his brain movies, after movies all. Just the xxx story same, anything could happen under the knife.
 Paul allowed himself to xxx be soothed. He didn't really have much choice, after xxx all; either he'd be okay or he wouldn xxxfacial't, but he was in xxx no xxx position to facial leap xxx story up and xxx make xxx a break for it. After a while, he went to xxx sleep again.
 Rhonda was beginning xxxfacial to sway on her feet. She xxx was having trouble xxx maintaining her pose bent over him; if xxx she didn't stand up, she xxx'd xxx fall over soon. Pleasurable as xxx it might xxxfacial be to have her collapse on top of him, he wasn't xxx, he decided regretfully xxx, quite ready for that.
 "Rhonda, stand up," he said. She xxx obeyed, repeating, "Yes, Mr. Bennett movies." He could see her relax once she was no longer leaning over so awkwardly. "Rhonda xxx, get dressed," he continued. She story picked up her bra story and blouse xxx and put them on calmly. "Rhonda xxx," he asked curiously, "how do you feel about what just happened xxxfacial?"
 "Yes, Mr. Bennett," she xxxfacial replied xxx calmly, her angry expression story and xxx tone instantly xxxfacial gone. "Everything I xxxfacial can."
 "I xxx'm feeling a lot better, Doctor--" he squinted at the nametag on the doctor's story coat--"Steiner." He laughed, then xxxfacial winced movies as his throat twinged. "I xxxfacial guess I was pretty out of it for xxxfacial a while after the surgery."
 The doctor xxxfacial blinked xxxfacial at xxx him. "What are you talking about, Mr. Bennett xxxfacial?" He reflexively covered the watch with his xxx left hand. He not xxx-quite joked, "Get your own xxx."
 Paul blanched. It hadn't worked. Was--whatever it xxx was--gone? Or had it never been real at all? Had his puppeting of xxx Nurse Rhonda been xxx nothing more than xxxfacial an anesthetic-induced dream? He had to find out.
 Paul felt sorry for xxx her. "Forget your worries," he suggested. "Imagine facial you're a dancer. Keep your xxx arms raised, and stand on tiptoe--that xxx's right xxx--and turn, slowly, slowly. Imagine xxxfacial you xxx're on stage xxx, under a spotlight, and a big audience is watching facial you, seeing how xxx graceful you are. Applauding. Keep xxx turning, slowly facial, slowly, for the xxx audience xxx."
 Jasmine obeyed, relaxing as her mind accepted xxx story the xxx story fantasy and forgot the xxx reality xxx. It xxx was so xxx much easier to be a dancer, performing for an xxxfacial audience, than a story frightened xxx girl who somehow had to obey a strange man.
 After a couple xxx of minutes xxxfacial, Paul xxxfacial was satisfied. Jasmine was clearly under his control, just as Rhonda had been earlier.
 Jasmine was still turning, turning on tiptoe xxx, hands clasped over her head. Her eyes were closed now, her lips xxx story slightly parted. Clearly, she was enjoying herself in the xxx fantasy he'd built xxx story for her. It almost xxx seemed xxx a shame to end it, but he'd learned enough.
 "Jasmine," he addressed her, "it xxx's time to come back to reality. You had fun pretending to xxxfacial be a dancer, but xxx you have patients who need you xxx."
 Her eyes opened. She sighed and xxx settled back onto the soles xxx of her feet xxx story.
 Paul was feeling much stronger, and much xxx more confident. A week after returning home, he went back xxxfacial to xxx work.
 The Hamilton xxx Insurance Company was a medium-sized xxx firm housed in a xxx three xxx-story brick building dating to the xxx story early 1950s. Paul Bennett, at forty, was story a successful salesman for the company. In appearance, he was ordinary xxx: medium height xxx, medium xxx build xxx (just beginning to go to xxxfacial pot), medium complexion, plain xxx brown hair beginning to recede at the temples. Despite his sales record, he had long since xxx story resigned himself to the likelihood xxxfacial that he would advance no further in the company's ranks.
 "Paul xxx," she said, "I facial need to speak with you for a few minutes xxx, if you don't mind."
 Suppressing xxxfacial the urge to xxx ask her what she wanted to talk about xxxfacial--it didn't matter xxx, after all, not now--he answered, "On my xxx way, Ms. Sands." He xxxfacial got up and walked xxx casually xxx story over to her office, opened xxx the door and xxxfacial went in. Carefully, he shut movies the door behind him and sat down in the chair next xxx to her desk xxx.
 Ms. Sands picked a folder xxxfacial off her desk and waved it at him. "This is a cancellation request xxx story from Mrs. Sylvia xxx Cortez xxx story. A half-million-dollar xxx account. She says xxx you screwed up by insuring only her and not her husband as xxx well. And while story you were facial out on your xxxfacial little vacation xxx"--Paul flushed angrily, but said nothing--"he died. And under xxx the policy you got her to xxx buy xxxfacial, she gets zip.
 Ms xxxfacial. Sands' expression softened. She nodded. "Yes, Paul story." Then, with xxxfacial a touch of her former steel, "Don't call me Charlene. It's xxxfacial Ms. Sands to you, is xxx that clear, Mr. Bennett?"
 "It's all right, Charlene," he assured her. "Let it happen. Lose control. Nothing matters but sex, right here, right now, with me, Charlene xxx."
 "Of course not, Charlene," Paul responded story. Charlene whimpered and trembled, and as he turned to xxxfacial go xxxfacial, she almost story called out xxx for him to stay.
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