Or, maybe I do.” She motioned me toward the lounge chair. “You’re such a prude,” said Sonja. My jockeys were on the ground in seconds. “Now,...lie down across my lap.” I obeyed, lying on my stomach across her mons veneris. Sonja sprinkled some salt on my ass. “Anybody got a lime?” Paul got up and retrieved a lime from the kitchen. He also brought back a half-empty bottle of tequila. “Smart boy,” said Sonja. She squeezed some line onto my ass, then dribbled tequila across it. Next she was bending. That's right; we would have had a son, but fate decided otherwise, and the doctors told us that another pregnancy would probably kill her, so I went in for the snip, and had a vasectomy, so there was no chance of that ever happening. We decided it was better for me to get the snip than for Lyndall to get her tubes tied, because her body had been through enough as it was.I remember, the doctor emphasising that the procedure was permanent, and then asking me if I was prepared to accept that it. More

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