One weekend just after my 16th birthday, Mom and I were home alone. My Dad worked long hours and often didn't get home for days at a time. This left M...m and I a lot of time to keep each other company. Because of these circumstances, I didn't like to leave Mom on her own too much; I hated her to feel lonely. Mom was 39 and although she was still in the average build range, she had a beautiful bustline, about 38D I think. She had shoulder length ash blonde hair and bright green eyes that sparkled. I had sort of pinned her there when I had blindly picked this washbowl. As I reached for some paper towels to dry my shaking hands, I heard her inhale – the kind of sound someone makes as they are about to say something. I cringed and pulled my head down into my shoulders, expecting the worst.“I guess you really needed that, ” she said, half in question. My head snapped up in surprise and my eyes must have been saucers. She smiled gently and put her hand on my arm. “It’s OK, dear. We all have. More

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