Ms. Sloane tilted her head. Looking at me much like my mother and a certain aunt do from time to time. It’s a look that says ‘don’t dick around,...tell me all.’ Or else.“Masturbate.” I sort of gushed it out, not a subject about which I now wished had never burbled to the surface, topic-wise... “Oh?”“She found out, discovered, porn. Taught Froggy and me how to surf ... and ... you know.”“And masturbate.”I nodded, somewhat reluctantly. No reason to birddog the same prairie time and again.Ms. Sloane. But they don't know that. Most of us aren't what we seem to be. It takes courage to be what you seem." She seemed to be looking atme significantly, asking for agreement. I nodded. She smiled. "Ithink dinner's ready. Shall we adjourn to the table, and I'llbring it out?"I stood up and then weaved a bit, and so did the furniture, andeven when I steadied myself the furniture didn't. So I tookMarsha's elbow and walked carefully into the dining room. Thetable was very nicely set indeed. . More

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