There was no emotion behind it. Sure, her lips had been soft, but that’s all he had felt. He stumbled inside, the screen door whacking shut behind h...m, and he raced to his bedroom, tripping over himself, his face flushed. Why was he like this? Was he always like this? Was this why his mother was so hard on him? Had she seen it in him all along? Had she known, somehow, in her mind, that her son was gay? Because that’s what ’this’ was, wasn’t it - gay. Homosexuality. Queer. Fag. A fruitcake. He. I could hear movement from above and then the sound of her running down the stairs. "Mmm smells good b*o" she said, grabbing a seat at the table.We settled down at the table and tucked into our meal. We chatted away about the usual stuff, nothing out of the ordinary but in my mind there was awkwardness. Sarah had a low cut top on and I couldn't help but look at her cleavage. Something inside me was wanting it more and I really needed my hands on her. After dinner I cleaned up the plates and. More

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