She poured herself a cup of coffee and sat down with a heavy sigh. I put the paper down and asked her what she wanted for breakfast.“Just some toast... dear.”I got up, popped a slice of the marbled rye she liked into the toaster, and took out the butter and jam. As I was setting the butter and jam on the table, I asked, “Still feeling bad about last night?”Mom stood up quickly and screamed at me. “Of course, I still feel bad about last night! Do you think I don’t have feelings?” She pounded her. I was happy working in a womenboutique and doing everything I would to provide mygirls every opportunity to become whatever theywanted. Eventually I got bored with spending mynights masturbating myself to sleep. I found myselfthinking about my ex's suggestion of making it withother women. The idea became my favorite fantasy. One evening I was visiting a friend for supper ather house. Her husband was out of town on a trip.We were drinking a Bordeaux wine with a good noseand talking. We. More

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