I stand on my tiptoes and catch a glimpse of a handsome black man sitting on a stool strumming an old Kay guitar. A pretty black girl is sitting on a ...iano bench right next to him. It must be Mamma Reed.The notes from the guitar hang in the room electrifying the air. The notes have a certain familiarity, like two old friends getting back together after many years. The notes feel so comfortable, like a newborn baby cradled in its mother's arms. As the notes hung in the air, I wanted to reach out. “Let’s make this one nice and easy.”“As you wish, kind sir.”“So,” he declared, moving over her, “I’m going to start on your breasts. After I’ve kissed you for half an hour.”Emma laughed delightedly. This was the real Dan, the man she’d married, the man who had brought love into her life and who was at this moment beginning to spark her excitement with his fingers stroking her nipples. She had no resentment that he’d halted her venture with her mouth. That would come some other time.Gradually,. More

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