She look distrurbed and yelled at mefor not wiping my feet. She had me on my hands andknees wiping the floor in places she pointed out withher boots. ... probably spent more time looking at herfootwear than the floor because she told me to stopwhat I was doing and to follow her. We went in to theden where she sat on the sofa and had me sit at herfeet. We discussed my fascination for her shoes andshe tryed to explain some of the finer points of preteen years and feelings. I really wasn't. ‘Wow, straight to the sex! No foreplay?’ he joked. ‘You should be used to that.’ she quipped flatly, ‘Now, back to the question. He looked up to the ceiling and grinned. ‘Sure, I’ll never forget it. Mom was a great lay!’ he replied. ‘So you identify sex with your mother?’ ‘Wow Doc! Now who’s getting strange here!’ ‘Where you a momma’s boy?’ He flashed a fierce glance at her and then recovered his smile. ‘As much as you were a daddy’s girl.’ ‘You seem defensive.’ ‘That’s funny, most women. More

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