She loved the way the story ran away from her when she thought about the men at the store or restaurant, loved the way their imagined caresses became ...eal while she lay naked and alone. Some of them were still princes, in her fantasy. She also liked to imagine other things, though. The strange dark man who took her away from her loving Prince, tied her up and forced himself upon her; the feeling of his rough, bruising kisses and the silk ropes twisting against her wrists.The fantasies had been. ”She laughed and lightly swatted me on my rump. “No, sweetie.“No ... That’s not what I meant.”“What then?” I replied looking askance at her and seeing a hint of moisture in her eyes.“I was just thinking of you playing in the back yard with Terry. Both of you boys running, throwing things, balls, footballs ... playing,” she told me.I let my mind wander to hers and I could just about see the tableau she was imagining. Her two sons. Laughing. Fighting. Whatever little boys and finally grown boys. More

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