My legs weaken from his touch. He pulls my hips closer against him. His passion for me stirs once more. My mind races. I only have him for this moment... How will this moment ever be enough? Pushing deeper against his tongue, I can feel the driving force to stop time time. I know I don’t have that power. Slowly our kiss calms, his forehead presses against mine. ‘Ahhh.. my sweet,’ he sighs. Together we continue on our way to the shop. We step in, shuffling back and forth. Many hangers and folded. It never even felt like we had had the incident a couple of months earlier. Although we had separate bedrooms it did not feel OK to masturbate in my bed, knowing my son was so close. So on fourth day I was starting to get the ‘itch’ again. Of course I could not stop myself – I fingered myself and drove the dildo hard into my tight holes- I even moaned heavily as I came thinking of my sons hands on my body. The next morning I was feeling much better. It was already 9.30 am, and my son, Peter had. More

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