I found myself, three times, holding a beautiful woman in my arms, naked and gentle moving against me, as she felt the space, felt the touch of others...or the sounds of the dark room. Without any words spoken she guided me to hold her where she would gain most pleasure from the encounter. We breathed together - and in one case, with just my hold and our breathe, she came with a beautiful sense of joy and release. It felt so right to hold her. Not to touch her inner folds. Just to allow her to be. ‘Uh, huh. You probably gave me some safe name, like, ‘Betsy’ or ‘Marylou” ‘Nope. I said you and I were going to Canada because the laws were Machiavellian, and that our fearless leader was a hate-mongering bigot who was more than happy to tread upon the basic civil rights of sexual minorities.’ ‘As a good dyke friend of mine once said,’ Chris chimed in, ‘Bush is for licking, not for voting.’ Will smiled broadly, and fanned his nails in a crude but passable imitation of his boyfriend. His Mae. More

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