She’d have a couple of drinks. I’d smoke a joint. Over those few months, I discovered how lonely she was. She’d been a successful young editor a... a magazine, and quit it all to marry my father, an engineer. Our conversations covered everything politics, d**gs, even sex."You know, I never could come with your father," she said. "I always had to masturbate." I was pretty non-committal during these ramblings she got into. I found myself simultaneously embarrassed, and very, very turned on.At home,. Men don't crydo they? But how could I, dressed as a playboy bunny, in the Ladieschanging room, think of myself as being even remotely Male? I hadpermission to cry and it felt good to just let go."Well of course I will, Nasrullah, but you do look cute as a playboybunny, so you mustn't hold it against Steve. But let me get thisstraight, you, are asking me, to dress you up as a Muslim woman?"Afroza said putting her arms around me to comfort me. "Amber, the girlsand I were off to the mosque and. More

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