Then a strange woman came and started to speak harshly to her but of course she couldn’t understand a word of what she was trying to tell her. She started to lift my wife up and when my wife resisted she slapped her across the face. So my wife thought she had better cooperate and she was taken to a mirrored room that was brightly lit with a small narrow bench in the centre much like a Doctors office. It looked like a weight bench or some sort of special bed. My wife tried to tell the woman that there seemed to be some mistake but she drew back her hand and ordered her to shut up.The woman said something to my wife and pointed to the special bench so she went and sat down.In a few minutes a young girl came in and gave my wife a gown. She said to put it on. She spoke English so my wife repeated that there must be some mistake. The girl shrugged her shoulders and left. So she just sat there and waited until someone with some sense came along. As she waited, she noticed the room had. “I love you, Buck,” my mother said, leaning in on his left arm.“I love you, Buck,” I told him too, brushing my barely clad breast on his upper arm.My father was no stranger to my body. I sunbathe nude, and we rarely wear suits in the pool, even when we have guests. In our sauna, where we often have visitors, no one uses towels for modesty, only to protect their bodies from the heat of the stove. But in that restaurant, as our meal came, I used my body in ways my father had never seen. They were ways I had never used. With my girlfriends, no pretense was ever needed. I had watched my mother for years though, and copied the grace she used to move her long, lithe body in ways that seemed completely natural but which were entirely contrived to excite and entice. I arched my back, bringing up my full round breasts, forcing the thin material of my gown to stretch and reveal the hardness of my nipples. I rubbed my leg against my father’s maintaining contact to confirm the touch was not.
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