The capper was a photograph of the cabin that Dad and I built, a cabin nobody but me was supposed to know about. I stared at it for a long time, wonde...ing if she'd ever seen me there.The photographer herself was standing in a corner, drinking wine and talking with six or seven other people. She was a short woman, a little on the chubby side, with long, straight black hair. I smiled and nodded at her, as if to say "Good work!" and she smiled back and nodded in thanks, but we never exchanged. I pulled her close to me and moved my hand over her ass.She pulled away and said, "Scott, look, this is a little too much. I'm still your mother." That may be true," I said, "but I'm 31 years old and a pretty well adjusted adult. I find you extremely attractive and, tonight, I am your date." I don't know." She paused."Well, then let's think about it tomorrow." I said as I leaned to kiss her more. She responded by opening her mouth to me and wrapping her arm around my back.We made out on the. More

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