They’ve only known each other for five days and already they’re fucking. They are having an affair. It is both horrible and delicious. Everything is a secret, a whisper. The younger woman is wettest when she has her two stubby fingers worming loverly into the older woman’s caverns. It is the perfect drama. It gives the sausage-fingered girl exactly what she needs: an older woman with breasts forever warm to have and sidle next to all for herself. And what the older woman needs right now, more than anything else, is a large round mind to put her words into. So she concedes and lets Sausage Fingers call her “Mama,” just as long as they can talk the whole way through. Sausage Fingers pretends the older woman’s breast is a plank of wood and her own mouth a course sheet of sandpaper. “Mama,” the girl says, smothering the older woman’s nipple with her tongue. Mother. Mamere. Mamon.
