I could feelhis head probing my groin and my lower belly. We both let it play, untilthe tenderness between us overruled its impatience and it returned...toMustapha's underwear, only temporarily defeated. We both longed to beconnected as partners on a different, deeper physical level. It was timefor me to be a woman to my man with my back vagina.While pregnancy and lactation were complementing the effect of hormones,Manuelito, my bosom son, was completing my femininity with his voraciousappetite.. Her mother never seemed to miss a chance to bring up the scar and how difficult it would make her love life. As though Connie had gotten the scar voluntarily, like a tattoo. Connie waited for the other shoe to drop. ‘And you know your weight has been up.’ ‘It hasn’t, Mom. It’s the same as it’s been for the past couple of years.’ Connie checked off the ‘weight’ block on her mental scorecard. ‘Really? I thought you looked a little heavy the last time I saw you, but it was probably just the outfit. More

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