She wanted a firm, flat stomach, not one where she could pinch out rolls of fat. Well, one roll, and maybe it wasn’t so very thick. Kate slid her ha...ds upwards beneath her breasts and held them out for closer inspection. She liked to look. Many women were embarrassed by their tits, they even refused to use that term for them. But not Kate. She frequently admired herself in the mirror and didn’t consider it narcissim. She liked to look. It was perfectly understandable to her why men should set. She thanked Aunt Frances. She told her she had a good relationship with my stepdad-tobe, it looked as if they were steady now, and perhaps they would marry in a year or two. I was grateful for her persistence. Not only would I not be able to bear seven days a week of Aunt Frances, but leaving the project meant leaving Martha Jane. Aunt Frances didn't let up all day, but Mom didn't give in and didn't even appear to be tempted--for which I was deeply grateful. Maybe there really was a God.In a. More

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