"Samuel, my Little Black Sambo, but he certainly isn't little. He's just my Sambo.” Mary flopped on her back, in bed next to her husband. She lay on...top of the sheets stretched out, allowing her body to feel the cool air in their bedroom. "I'm hot and sweaty; Samuel's air conditioning is broke.” "So that's why you undressed as soon as you got inside?” "No, my dress is in the car, my dress, shoes and purse.” "What took you so long?” "I was playing with my pussy; I wanted to feel myself. It was hard for me to imagine Mr. Oldham ever being eight years old. I didn't have a Thanksgiving story to tell but the closeness we shared, three unrelated adults posing as a family, made me think of my own family.My mother's telephone rang ten times before I gave up. Where could she be? It dawned on me that she could be at work and that's where I reached her. We talked warmly for several minutes before she became distantly sullen. "I hope you're nice and comfy in your posh room, Sammy. Did. More

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