But what could he do? He had to submit to her touches, her accidental brushes and caresses of his genitals, and knowing all the time that her eyes wer... seeing his most private of possessions. They were mother and son, but at his age, a young adult, that sense of shame and helplessness seemed to devour him, consume him so completely he felt sometimes smothered by her. He would snap at her, take out his mounting frustration on her if she infringed his sensibilities with an indelicate movement, a. There was no heavy makeup applied to her face, no corporate clothing to try to impress executives.When the door was opened, her apartment was dark inside with a few low-lit lamps and candles. She greeted me cheerfully and invited me in.The apartment smelled of lavender and looked like it had been decorated by a professional."Hey! Nice place," I told her."Thanks," she said smiling. "You can massage me in here," she said as she walked me to the bedroom.Inside her room was a king-size bed with a. More

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