I hurried off to the bath room to take a shower because I still felt so sick with myself. As many know this is a story that is of a delicate nature. The point is, however, that I had forgot to shut my bedroom door, maybe it was the wine I had earlier in the evening that had made me so forgetful, but looking back on it now I doubt that it was mere forgetfulness. Not just as his mother but as his lover. Once again I nodded my head in understanding as I formed my next question very carefully. I made myself a cup of coffee when I got down to the kitchen and sat at the table clenching my thighs tightly together over and over again trying to ease some of the painful throbbing my slit was giving me waiting for my son to come down. For a moment I watched as he thought it through, as he did with all things, then he nodded his head once again. “We’ll talk when you’re done.” I said, offering up one last smile, then I left him there,
