The Lovemaking of I. B. Singer

Norma Rosen

1996

A woman named Bella stayed behind to speak to me. Her hair was carefully waved, touched with streaks of blond, her eyes round and blue. She was not one of the shapeless old, but kept waist, hips, and bosom defined, clothed in a blue dress with a low, square neckline.

“I am desperate!” She bent over me. The square of flesh showed the crease between…

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