He was one of what I called the Latex Three. Sure enough that was what he wanted. Someone went and got the latex suit and made me put it back on.I was...a completely anonymous sex object again, a body in black latex with nothing to identify it except two huge titties hanging free between its elbows. Peter opened the suitcase and removed a metal box, some tubes, and cups. Nipple cups. A milking machine. A farm implement, I'd seen it before. The gentle milking action most mothers were familiar with. Of all the days. Here, read this.’ Ben pulled out his cell phone and called up the message Wendy had sent: ‘BEN. No easy way 2 say this — its all gone wrong… i want to break up. Forgive me, i lov u. DON’T CALL. Goodby.’ Tamara shook her head. ‘Look at this spelling. Sorority girls.’ ‘Don’t be so hard on sororities. Wendy was a bad writer all on her own. That’s how we met, in a study group. I corrected her essays with a red pen. Maybe that’s why she kept me around.’ ‘I’m sorry, Ben.’ Ben. More

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