Les made appropriate noises, wiggled and pulled my head into her.I started down with my mouth, following the path my fingernails had taken previously....She giggled as I paid homage her navel with my tongue.It was time to remove the bow. I looked at it and it was a real bow. It was made out of red velvet ribbon, about one and a half inches wide. It ran under her body, just under her butt at the top of her thighs. It must have been a job to tie by herself.I looked up at Les. She was watching me. In the confusion, no one noticed he was also born on his father's birthday. I could almost relate. Mother and I are only two days apart.My return to Boston was surreal for a number of reasons. Rather than drive, I flew to Logan International Airport. A limo and driver were waiting. Rather than going to Roxbury, we drove to Peabody House on Cambridge Street, which the driver informed me was designed by Charles Bulfinch. Apparently the Otises, the Peabodys and the Rices maintained the historical. More

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