But what she’d watched couldn’t possibly be put into the category of “wrong.” It was too beautiful.She also thought of Bobby. He hadn’t mean... what he’d said the way she’d first interpreted it. She knew that. What bothered her now, and what she couldn’t even begin to understand, was that for some reason she wished he had meant it that way.The routine of breakfast banished her worries, though. She was surprised when other people arrived at the house to join in breakfast and that they were there. He liked the way they felt to touch when he ran his hands up and down her hosiery covered legs. He was developing a fetish for nylons even though he had no idea why he was so drawn to these mysterious feminine articles of his mother's clothing. What little boy wouldn't experience excitement from a mother who allowed and encouraged him to play with her new, boxed stockings while also putting them on in front of him almost daily. He loved the way the sun glistened off her nylons when they were. More

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