"We ventured back to our table holding hands, and I held Mom's chair as she sat. We sat and held hands while we gazed at each other and didn't speak a...word until I finally got the never to break our silence."What are we doing Mom?" I asked."I... I don't know Chris. But it feels so right." Mom said as she squeezed my hand in hers.I didn't want this to end and selfishly wanted more. I needed to feel her soft body touching mine and boldly asked if she wanted to go back to my apartment.Mom didn't. Her hands closed over whatfelt like handles and she gripped them tightly, feeling them move rather likejoysticks. Jane wriggled experimentally, but to no avail. She was solidly locked inposition, but it was not uncomfortable. On the contrary, the smooth transparentplastic felt warm and comfortable, its resilience moulding itself to her body.There was no need for clamps over her knees. Even without the firm pressureof the grips at her ankles, neck and wrists she doubted if she could have. More

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