Gretchen lay back onto the cushions, one knee up and the other less-so & askew, her body propped as if she were at rest with a good book; Maggie lay flat on her tummy, her face nestled close between her daughter's spread legs and they arranged their hair behind their ears and said things between them only they could hear and giggled some more and generally did nothing - Maggie's head up close and her hand firm on Gretchen's thigh, high and inside, either holding her open or holding her off - neither of them sure of when to begin.Straight women eat pussy with a sweet uncertainty: if reciprocated, they'll do it with little persuasion - it's ok and ok to like it, they all secretly know - but they're afraid they shouldn't: women don't feel less feminine when they play gay, but straight men just don't want to be girls.They hesitated to quit chatting, both keeping Maggie's mouth busy with talk, but after a minute they were quiet, Maggie looking up her young daughter's belly at her and. In panic, I tried to squash my old heart back into a monotone beat. Her head was resting on my chest, listening and feeling to every heartbeat, every nuance and derivation. The pulsating heart sucked so much oxygen that my lung muscles started pulling against my will to inhale deeper: ‘We need more oxygen, you old fool!’ The lungs and I were locked in a game of tug of war. I wanted to remain the calm, respectable elderly man for the young girl. My lungs simply wanted to nourish my body with oxygen. With a big heave, my lungs filled full, lifting her head up to the ceiling, or so it felt to me. She knows! She knows! A moan escaped my lips as the tension and weight of my life lifted off of me. That feeling of virility, of physical presence, and emotion bursting through my heart, I had forgotten about that. The bricks of the wall around my heart toppled down to the ground one by one. I could feel the plants around the forest tower coming to live and growing. The thorns were falling of.
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