My first instinct was to move my arms. They were restrained and attached to the bed rail of the bed. There were all kinds of tubes and wires as well. ...here seemed to be multiple I.V.’s hanging, and they were attached to both arms. I tried to move my legs. They likewise were restrained to the bed. I was spread eagle, and I looked around the room. It was dark, and there were no windows. I looked for a call button. There was no button to be found.What kind of hospital room has no window and no. He stroked her hair and reveled in it.After a couple of minutes of him holding her, she moaned, “Oh, Rodney. That was so good.”“I loved it,” he said, and then on impulse, gave her a short thrust of his hips.Her eyes shot open and she gasped. She quaked from the resulting aftershock, and then let out her breath as a chuckling moan.“I want more, but I don’t know if I can take it.”He slid his hands down to her bottom and – amazed at his own confident tone – said, “Only one way to find out.”“Mmm. After I had been working there for almost six months our relationship was relaxed, amicable, supportive and always with a little hint of flirting below the surface. As I was working (and being professional) I didn't make suggestive comments directly but let her know my thoughts by omission. I didn't agree when she put herself down, I refused to believe she was unwanted etc. And I meant it.One of the main subjects of her joking was kind of sexual. Firstly she was quite open that she'd now had. My desk is a depressing sight. There used to be furry things on springs stuck on the monitor, a calendar of naked men in distracting poses, a large expanse of desk, and a keyboard you could do surgery on. Now? I think the furry things committed life by jumping out of one of the windows, the calendar was removed for being offensive (?) (Though I still have August… ), the desk is still there somewhere and you could do an autopsy on the keyboard, though the lettering on the ctrl alt del keys has.