Page 62 of Lessons with the Mothman

"Is there a crash? I can't… Well, I was going to say 'remember,' but it's not like I have a precedent forthis."

She was moving, groaning as she sat up on the bench, slim torso and shoulders gilded by sunlight.

"A crash?" I asked, filling two glasses with ice water for us, then taking a bowl of precut strawberries out of the fridge.

"I know about dopamine versus prolactin, of course. I suppose I mean…is it worse after your mating season? After the prolonged repetition of orgasm?"

I blinked at my nice cherry cupboards. This was not the conversation I'd expected. I was thinking about love, and Victoria was thinking about…

"Explain," I said, turning and crossing to my small table.

Victoria stood by the bed, slipping the robe I'd lent her onto her shoulders. "Orgasms release extremely high levels of dopamine. The body regulates that with prolactin—as it rises, dopamine lowers. It's responsible for that sense of satiation, but also the lethargy." She crossed to the table, accepting the glass of water and drinking quickly, her thirst suddenly striking her.

"Thehumanbody," I said.

Her eyebrows rose, and she set the glass down with a gasp. "Oh! I hadn't considered that. Do you think it's relevantto the study? Has anyone published about biochemistry across different species?"

"I'll investigate," I said, drawing her attention back. "Why did you ask about a crash?"

Victoria popped two pieces of strawberry in her mouth and shrugged as she chewed. "Too much dopamine can lead the body into a state of stress and anxiety. Too much prolactin would be the equivalent of a depression. They're meant to balance one another, but for some people, one weighs over another. And I don't know what happens in…in a situation where there's been a great deal of both."

She blushed, and I was fascinated, studying her more closely. Her eyes were unusually bright. Victoria was an observer, studyingmeor her interview subject with a quiet patience. This was a wilder, more excitable version of that woman. I thought of the way she'd wept in my arms when I'd first broken through her orgasm. I'd assumed it was just an emotional response, like extreme relief.

"Do you remember a pattern for yourself? Highs or lows after orgasm?" I asked, watching as she gobbled strawberries. I picked up her glass and left the table to refill it.

"I suppose…I suppose lows," she admitted after a moment of quiet. "Brett would fall asleep and I would lie awake, thinking and feeling so…alone."

Brett. I stiffened. Somehow, having a name for the man who'd come before me made me…angry?How strange.

I carried the full glass back to the table, but I didn't return to my own seat. Victoria smiled as I lifted her and then settled us once more, with her in my lap and my arms around her waist and hips.

"I don't know all about the chemical responses, but I know that aftercare is incredibly important, especially in sexual experiences that feel extreme," I said.

Victoria hummed and tipped her head. "Serotonin, probably. Dopamine is a reward response. Serotonin is contentment. It lasts longer."

"What would you have wanted after sex? What could he have offered you that might've made a difference?"

Victoria stilled, strawberry poised at her bottom lip. It was an erotic picture, but I could see the bricks starting to stack in her mind. She'd cracked open in my arms this weekend and was suddenly aware of the fact.

"You know I enjoy touch, like this," I said, stroking a hand up her back, distracting her from her defenses. "But, for instance, I've had clients that wanted physical space and conversation. I would make them tea. A massage is a common request—I'm trained, of course."

"Of course," Victoria said, smiling.

"One liked me to read to them. They'd bring whatever book they were in the middle of."

Her eyes were shining, tears welling, and the bricks were gone once more.

"I know asking for what you want troubles you," I said softly.

Victoria huffed out a watery laugh and nodded. "Yes."

"Let's see, what else? A bath is very popular, with or without me. I can?—"

"Can you braid hair?" Victoria asked softly, blinking away tears.

"Elaborately," I said, flaring out the word just to make her smile.

"Would… Could we do a few of those?"

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