I am twenty six years old. This is the story of the tattered lives of my mother and me. And of what at the time seemed our final relationship.I have b...en working as a deep sea welder on several oil platforms in the North Sea for an American company and only went to shore every fourth week. From the beginning my job has kept me away from the mainland for weeks at a time. I could usually expect to be home (a spacious apartment where I live alone, with the occasional feminine visit) one weekend. Not only was it against allstandards of education and a violation of my teaching contract, but itwas immoral and wrong. Yet, I could not help myself; I was a woman withneeds.On the Wednesday before Thanksgiving, my desires could no longer bethrottled. I wore a single piece red dress with a scooped bodicedisplaying ample views of my rather fleshy cleavage. The dress wasmidthigh in length, and I wore a pair of thigh-high nylons with anelaborate lace trim. In fact, Mr. Jacobson, the leering. More

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