The moment I first discovered my son’s wandering eyes.
I recall the exact day when my soul was triggered, while observing the eyes of my teenage son. They were slanted with lust as he quietly gazed upon my legs. I pretended that I wasn’t aware, but I was indeed.
Over the following days, it haunted my thoughts while taking a bath. I purposely displayed my legs as I bathed, watching the bubbles slide off my flesh. Even my technique in shaving them became overly enticing.
Michael was just fifteen at the time and a trombone player in the band. I did my best to curb my arousal, yet something was baiting me forward.
I began researching the motive for my cooperative response. Certainly, I should be upset or perhaps even offended by his attention, yet I felt something expected. Goosebumps would rise every time it entered my thoughts, even my nipples rose to attention.
I began to evaluate my own morals. I questioned my intentions as my skirts grew shorter, every day.
One afternoon I sat in the living room, pretending to read a book. Sitting next to me on the sofa nearby, was a young man I know very well. I purposely wore a short skirt. I intentionally crossed my legs now displaying more leg than a mother would dare consider. My heart instantly raced watching his reaction in the mirror I strategically placed on the wall. That ‘thousand-yard stare’ was written all over his face. With all the courage I could muster I began rocking my hanging calf, stirring his thoughts even further. I was stunned by his reaction.
I struggled to focus on daily activities. I was captivated by the idea of pursuing him. The reigns of motherhood are well attached, yet I felt my grip begin to weaken. Soon thereafter I had a dream that was vividly enticing. I tried to govern the excitement I felt yet my body rattled with joy.
After giving it a great amount of consideration, I decided to ‘test the waters.’ … to be continued…
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