You put your arm around my back again. You leaned in close and said, “Are you just about ready?” I nodded. We finished our drinks; I slid one ice ...ube into my mouth as we got up from the table. You held my hand as we made our slow way out of the bar. It had gotten much more crowded while I'd been busy. We made it out the door. I gulped the cooler, fresher air. You put my hand in the crook of your arm and led me to the car. The wetness inside my legs felt refreshing as it cooled like sweat. When. He understands that I have not had a man since my husband was killed." But Safiya, I shouldn't be alone with you! Nor should you be stroking my groin like that! I, you, we, could be killed by your family for this!" Non, non, amant, here in the Shouf mountains we are not Arabic, we are the descendents of Iskander of Macedon's generals and the Phoenicians and later the Romans. Since the mists of those times, it is us, the women, who hold sway here! Always we choose our husbands. And. More

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