I was pretty wild!” “You still are!” he grinned adoringly. “Wild with you, my sweet! Only with you, my darling,” I kissed his wonderful ha...dness one last time. “I don’t mind your past. Everything good and everything bad you ever did, shaped who you are.” “Oh?” I giggled, my finger-tips slowly, loving massaging the best part of him, “And who am I?” “The woman I adore!” Looking back on that day from the vantage point of 4 years later, I realize now that my romanticizing of my rebellious. Mom would come into my room and right up to my bed. I’d be scared to death and trying to hide my obvious hard- on. She would sit on the side of my bed and give me a comforting look. The following exchange would occur: “Do you like what you see honey?” “I, uhm I don’t – what do you mean?” “You know very well what I mean. I mean my body – do you like Mommy’s body?” “It’s not, I’m not supposed to . . .”. More

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