There it was. On my front entry rug a postcard in soft pink, with a deeper blush color around the edges. It looked lurid and out of place in my beige ...ome. I bent to pick it up, pushing Sally away from it, as she was doing her usual dance of excitement around the front door. The card had an embossed heart and a texture that I had not felt since picking out our wedding invitations. I rubbed it between my fingers. In flowing cursive script it said ‘Sweetest Dreams Photography -Portraits-Special. I asked, "Can you feel this?" as I blew gently on her clitoris. She replied she could not. I then told her I was going to try to stimulate the blood flow in the area and she was to tell me what she was feeling as I did so.I reached into my bag and pulled out a hand vibrator worn by barbers when giving head massages. It was an electric motor that clamped to the back of my hand and turned my fingers into magical manipulators of women.I turned it on and a loud buzz filled the room, Freeda looked. More

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