Maybe that’s what Ed would be like in bed, she thinks. Not flavourful but not awful. Something you didn’t want that had to be accepted because of something you did want. He would have to be encouraged, he would have to be cheered on. Rapid breathing, false crescendos. Then there would be his gratitude, she’d have to cope with that. She would rather be the one feeling gratitude. Just thinking about all of it makes her tired.
How far could she force herself to go, supposing it comes to that? Because it will, if she allows it. She can tell, because of the look Ed is giving her now, a kind of damp, sickly, pious look. Reverence crossed with hidden lust, but behind that a determination to get what he wants. It’s a dangerous look disguised as niceness. First they wheedle, but if you won’t do that thing they want, they get hurtful.