Then I stopped. I heard something. The shower was already running..why? I looked around his clothes lay, like a walkway, leading to the shower. He was...in there, running his hands through his moist and soapy hair, water running reluctantly off his smooth silky skin. His whole presence suggested tangled white bed sheets and hot erotic afternoons. It was part of his hold over me, the ability and skill to create a myth, approachable sexuality without ever having to talk or touch anyone. I was. After a minute or so mom said, “I think we better stop. You give a wonderful massage.” She got up, wrapping the towel around her waist. I could see that her nipples were erect and her face was flush. She put on her robe and went to her room. I thought I was going to burst. I went to my room and quickly relieved the pressure by beating my meat with visions of mom’s cunt fresh in my mind. I guess I was too young to realize that she was enjoying this, too. But she was having feelings of guilt. More

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