"Get the water ready, young man!"I dragged my eyes away and soon the steam was rolling from the shower stall. I waited in the rising steam, writing my...name on the glass over and over until the door opened and the lower half of my mom appeared.The triangle of hair was dark and curly and I could see the split between her legs through the soft curls.This was the ritual when we were going to an opera or another event together. We were loud in the echoing shower room, laughing and playing. Mother worked in the fashion industry so back in the 1950s/60s/70s when there were still the classical fashions being worn daily, she was always immaculate.As I got older, I started to wear her clothes and then one day, my sister, who was supposed to be out, walked in and caught me dressed in a lovely tight skirt of mothers, tan stockings and black t-bar heels, laid back, wanking myself. I had somehow worked out that tying my ankles together and then tying the cord round my balls meant that I. More

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