Ever since Caleb had started noticing girls, he had had to work hard not to notice how pretty his mom was. He was raised in a conservatively religious...family, and he knew this was breaking some serious rules, but he couldn’t help it. It felt euphorically good, but he really didn’t want to go to hell. So he bounced between hormone induced highs followed by guilt fueled lows. At some level, he had started associating guilt with the pleasure in a way that enhanced the sweetness of it. ‘Oh, sorry. ” “Really? better than usual?” He asks. I answer with one word: “Yes” “Did you do something different this time?” “Oh yeah, that’s what made it so great.” “Was it what we talked about?” “I’ll tell you when I get home I don’t want to spoil the surprise. I’ll be home soon.” That was my way of telling him it was private, naughty private, not the sort of discussion a wife should have with husband on a cell phone- but much better in person. Lately we had been talking about creampies and I. More

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