As we meet at the bar I offer to buy her drink. We nervously chat and sit down together. As we chat our hands touch for the first time under the table...and I feel the excitement for the first time. We leave the bar and walk down by the river, holding hands until I pull her in to me and kiss her, soft and gentle before our tongues touch. As we make out my hands stroke her back as she realises how hard I'm becoming. With a whisper in my ear she says, 'Come to mine'.We immediately fall into her. Nothing similar to that experience ever happened again. My mother's habits never changed, but mine did. As I got older I didn't want Mom catching me ogle her with my eyes. And I ultimately knew it would be wrong to do so. But this all changed more than a dozen years later.Now at 53, my mother had put on some weight over the last several years. I wouldn't at all call her fat, but she was "thick". Her hips, breasts, thighs and stomach had all gotten wider. Her hair now had streaks of gray in it. More

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