March 2, 2011
Sometimes when he feels melancholic, Victor Hugo unbuttons his shirt and reaches for his sagging breast, pretending it is the very one he nursed on as a child. He squeezes, but does not grope. He is not seeking milk or arousal, but simply the warm underskin where the breast attaches to the ribs. The same [...]
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January 7, 2010
Mother: And why did you leave your last job? Wet Nurse: My employer no longer needed my services. Mother: Why was that? Wet Nurse: Because the child no longer required breast milk. Mother: I see … and was that your decision or the mother’s? Wet Nurse: Hers, of course. Mother: And how old was the [...]
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