" He stared at himself in the mirror andsaid, "I wish I was normal."Like a balloon inflating inside of him, a strange feeling began to rise.It was a f...eling he had felt hundreds if not thousands of times before,he just couldn't understand why he was feeling it now. The feeling wasjealousy. But what did he have to be jealous of? Glancing around the roomhe saw all of the feminine things his mom had. The body washes, shampoosand conditioners inside the shower. The lotions, scented candles,. I had positioned the black backdrop and was adjusting the lights when I heard a prolonged loud noise. It was muffled by the closed bathroom door, but I was sure that it was something that could embarrass a drunken sailor.I heard the john flushing as the door slammed open and the scurrying of Cheryl's bare feet toward the stairs. A few minutes later she appeared wearing a western-style blouse with the tails tied at her waist and denim shorts. "I decided I didn't want to do nudes today," she said. Too exhausted and out of breathe to say one word, we both fell off to sleep without so much is one word having passed our lips.THE MORNING AFTER The next morning I came downstairs, while he was still asleep upstairs in my bed. I was so full of shame I felt like bursting. Who could I turned to, who could I tell? How could I explain what had made me let my son fuck me? How could I ever admit to anyone the pleasure and satisfaction I took from being my son’s lover? I went into the kitchen to. “Oh my!” she sighed. “I don’t know. That would be terribly ... naughty.”“Would it really be any naughtier than picking me more pears?” he asked.“Ohhhh,” she moaned. “I don’t know. I don’t know if I could just ... show you!”“Well, why don’t you sit down ... over there,” Bobby said, pointing at the couch. “I’ll help you.”“You will?” She sounded dazed.She let him lead her to the couch, and he held her hands as she sat, demurely, her knees firmly together. She looked lonely, sitting on the big.
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