Then we did the toilet paper routine again, me working clumsily with my left hand as I wiped the fragrant golden drops clinging to her hair, drying an... fluffing it carefully. It was a more intimate than humiliating moment and my innards squirmed.As we got ready for bed, if not sleep, I began to catch on to just how right-handed I was. Together we brushed our teeth, bumping heads over the sink to spit, me working slowly and awkwardly with my left hand, while she did hers more easily with her. I knew I had a special time to come, they were going to be gone for hours and hours, once the drink started flowing. As Aunty Sheila was staying I’d gone through her case and borrowed a pair of coffee HP”s, a black nylon half slip and a pair of 4in court navy sling backs. I knew mother’s draws like the back of my hand so in no time the bed was strewn with many many pairs of ffnylon stockings, sheer pantys, slips, negligees. It was a sea of dark nylon softness. Over the years I had created. More

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