Maybe it was the naughtiness of it all, or the idea that a young guy, and not just any young guy, but my own son thought I was sexy enough to want to ...antasize about. I was trying to sort through these and other thoughts as I stood in my kitchen sipping my first cup of coffee, when I heard the back door open. "Knock-knock. You busy?" Sheri said cheerily as she walked into my house. We both had open door privileges to each other’s houses, but since I was so wrapped up in my own thoughts this. . not because I was unbalanced or anything like that,but because in listening to my friends talk, I had realized I was sodifferent... if not a freak... then at least one-in-a-million. I constantly desired men. Men desired me. It seemed so simple andsatisfying... that is, we could satisfy each other. Instinctively I knewmy husband would never understand. Nevertheless, I continued to beobsessed with sensual, sexual living. Some sex was never enough, neither was a lot. I was always. More

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