’ Lisbeth looked like a freshman in college, and a saucy one at that. I got to play her uncle, holding my fake niece’s hand as Ceci and I gave her...terrible cliches about college guys and how careful she had to be. ‘Oh, how is a girl supposed to have any fun with advice like that!’ Ceci said, ‘Jeremy, can’t you talk some sense into that addled brain? How will she ever finish if all she does is think about boys?’ The waitress thought it was for real until Lisbeth leaned over and gave me a hot. She was bored with her dildos. She longed for a hot throbbing cock!But she had worked her attractive butt off to reach the top; while other able females had fallen by the way-side; bogged down in affairs.No! she was not going to throw it all away on an affair with a man! ... or a woman!Oh yes! ... she’d had women make a play for her too!Lesbianism was all in fashion; but still just as messy; that’s for sure.Men she came into contact with socially, at the country-club or at concerts,. " I grunted at that and took a bite of my cereal rather than answer. Mom just sighed, shaking her head faintly. "Well," she told me with a faint smile, "I suppose that with your... unique Were form, we should get what we need to help make things a little easier." "Things?" I asked blankly. "For one," she stated matter of factly, staring me straight in the eyes, "I think that a bikini top might be in order for when you change." Then she gave me a look as if daring me to argue with her. I might. You won’t believe the men and women I’ve had to arrest simply because they broke the law while basically trying to survive. I live on Ash Street in Brockton’s West Side with my partner of twenty years, Lawrence Jameson. He’s a tall, slim, dark-skinned black man in his mid-forties. A professor of literature at the University of Massachusetts-Boston. We’ve raised three wonderful brats together. James, Leander and Rachel.. And they’re my biological offspring, too. Begotten from my first marriage.