She moved at her own pace, grabbing his wrists tightly periodically to forestall the release of tension that had built in him, or rather to return him to zero, bringing him back from expectation, from his need to compare this sex with every other.
  "Lovers get one of these," thought Barry.
  "No," she replied, "more," she said with all the authority of imagined ghosts. "Oh, is that all I am?" she asked. "Well, imagination never lies."