My voice was soft and cool, like dew draped over bright grass beneath a flowering tree.I shook my head and tried again. Then a third time, slower. I s...allowed, and coughed, but the same feminine voice slipped from my lips without a hint of my former sound.The plastic bubble above rippled again, this time going opaque and shimmering until I saw a clear reflection.A woman stared back at me.She was strikingly beautiful, though pale in the austere, surgical lighting. Long, dark brown hair fell down. .. were unthinkable.Her single foray into internet romance was with a New Zealand sheepherder. It ended Baadly. (“Forgive me. I couldn’t help it,” he said sheeplessly.)Not only were they cycled together, they started at the same minute. We needed “feminine” products. Not exactly WE, but they. Situations like this ... leave me blushing.Abby was experiencing her first year of cycles ... pads were messy ... I don’t know why they were called sanitary ... and ... with the help of fingers and a. More

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