Still, any accounting of life with Boy would be woefully incomplete without a description of her approach to sex - rather like Blue Velvet reshot as a...cautionary tale about the misuse of compressed oxygen. I would rather risk indelicacy.Once Boy has made her desires clear, I lift my hips and she slides off the sweatpants I've been wearing to bed. The moment I'm naked, he's on top of me, cowgirl-style. There's no warm-up, but first thing in the morning, I don't need one and seemingly she doesn't. "You'll have to do It standing up." "When I'm giving you a whole quarter?" he said. "Not on your life." "All right," I said, reaching for my drawers. "A quarter ain't worth having to wash my dress all over again. Not to mention ironing it." I never did wear a dress or anything else, without ironing it so neat and clean and starchy. I was proud of always wearing clothes like that, no matter how much work it entailed. "Then I'll lay down, and you can get on top," he said hastily. I looked at. More

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