Apart from the topic of conversation, it was a normal, sexually-stereotypical scene as found in millions of households every night.“Call him what yo... like,” my lover of eight years, partner of five and husband of three grumpily suggested. “It’s what you do with him that counts, not what you call him.”“What do you call Sarah?” I asked.“Sarah!” came the sulky reply.I couldn’t blame David for his attitude. Even in an open marriage like ours, it couldn’t be easy for a husband to have to listen to. My consolation was having a floral scented oilmassaged into me, all over, that I did enjoy. For the first time sinceI had known her I learned that Carol's job sometimes involved helpingtransgender patients, so she knew exactly what to do. Much to myembarrassment, she pushed my testicles up into my body in a way thatfrightened me."When you were an unborn baby, and perhaps for some time afterwards,your balls were up there." She told me. "It's called the inguinalcanal and I didn't need to force. " Cheeky bugger." I laughed "Just watch it sonny Jim." I have been and I enjoyed the view." my son laughed back.There was nothing I could say to that so I laughed while wondering just what the hell had got into me, this was my son I was flirting with yet I was enjoying his attentions as if he had been my late husband. Luke called for the bill as I continued to puzzle over the strange mood that had come over me, there was no sane, logical explanation for it, but it was harmless and we were both. ’ Standing off to one side was a rail thin youth, perhaps twenty years of age. Both Conrad and Sammy knew a hit man or stone killer when they saw one, and this boy whose name they learned was Nazario Moreno had already garnered a big reputation by posing as a supermarket bag boy who carried his intended victim’s groceries out to the parking lot to get close enough for a head shot. Larios wasted no time at all in showing Gentner and Pardo his cocaine. Pardo opened his briefcase and withdrew a.