No sex.
They sat in the diner with their friends enjoying an early morning breakfast. They'd played hard at the dungeon that evening and felt famished. It was a boisterous group, except for one.
She was quiet, content to sit next to her partner, leaning against him. He looked down at her now and then, concerned that her quietness lasted longer then usual. They had played longer and harder then normal; he'd pushed her tolerance level. They'd had a good time. He had been very pleased with her responses. Usually by this time she was roused out of that space she'd gone to and participated in the ensuing conversations. This time she remained very close to him at all times, always touching him. This wasn't a problem; he was enjoying it, but recognized that this was a step away from the norm. Naturally he was a little concerned. Each time he nudged her she would look up at him, smile to assure him all was ok in her world.
He decided they would be the first to leave this time. He felt he should get her home, let her get some rest. Besides he was looking forward to their private decompression time together. It was a natural extension of their play to go home, talk about the evening, what seemed to work well, any concerns, or just relive the evening. Curiosity was gnawing at him wondering what her feedback would be tonight. She was that different in her behavior.
In the car she leaned against him, head on his shoulders as they took the highway home. Occasionally he'd kiss the top of her head, his arm around her shoulders, hand caressing her arm. She'd murmur or sigh, snuggle in to him tighter, but still wasn't speaking. For now her body language spoke for her.
They arrived home and he walked her into the house. He turned her around to face him, holding her at arms length while he peered into her face, "Sweet girl, if there is something wrong, I expect you to tell me."
Smiling up at him she haltingly spoke, "Sir, I'm ever more then fine." She surprised them both when a tear spilled from her eyes.
She laughed a little as she quickly wiped it away.
"Then why the tears?"
She reached out and ran her hand down his chest, thinking, before she requested, "Sir may I go take a shower first please?"
"Yes, I think that would be a good idea. As long as you think you can manage by yourself. I'll get our things from the car and put them away. Present yourself to me in the bedroom when you are done."
Slowly she made her way down the hall as he watched, trying to figure out what was going on inside her. He was trying not to make any assumption, but she gave him little to go on.
Once he heard the water running in the shower he took care of everything else and waited patiently in the bedroom for her. Twenty minutes later she finally came to him, her hair pulled back, a robe covering her. She knelt on the floor in front of him. She appeared to contemplate the floor for a moment before looking up at him, smiling and saying "hello Sir"
He smiled down and answered her greeting, "hello little girl" as he ran a fingertip along her face. He heard her sigh as her eyes closed and she lowered her head again. He placed his index finger under her chin and lifted her head up until she gazed back at him.