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I am not sure it would have made much difference had the research shown that I was a sick kid. Mom is thirty-six and, as I said earlier, gorgeous.She is still trim and keeps herself in great shape.I consider myself good looking, but I have always been shy … Unfortunately, I was never comfortable around girls with the exception of Mom. There were a host of emotions running through me at that moment. I could go to a local college, I thought, but did not say. "Thank you for being so understanding," she whispered, continuing to hold me tight. She got up and went to the refrigerator to get a bottle of water. "So, I suppose things are going to be changing around here. crying, diapers, baby food, etc." She laughed lightly.She encouraged me to date and in fact tried to set me up with several of her friend's daughters. It would have been bad enough if he had left her for another woman, but instead, it was a man. Somewhere inside there was anger or more likely it was jealously that she had been with another man, but I certainly couldn't let her know that. We both apologized the next day and agreed to never do it again. I repeated for the tenth time, "We'll get through this." I tried to sound confident. When she pulled back there was something in her eyes that I had never seen before. "No, it's fine." I bent my head and began to eat my now cold soup. It was obvious that she was trying to lighten the conversation and reduce the tension that had result from the kiss.

I just couldn't get my head around what had happened. Although I knew that I had no interest in men, I went out, got drunk, and got into a fight, receiving a black eye and a fat lip for my stupidity. We were drinking and I was telling him about how your father and I never … It seemed that she was coming to terms with the situation and I had helped. "Listen, sweetie, I have some grocery shopping to do. " I looked at her with a frown but then smiled and said, "I'd rather have a sharp stick in my eye." "Okay," she said and laughed. Not that we weren't close before; preemie's and their mothers are generally closer for a variety of reasons.

However, I am no longer embarrassed by those thoughts.

I am a psych major and my research convinced me that sexual fantasies are a healthy outlet in most cases—thanks to Sigmund Freud's contention that fantasies often replace the need to act on some of our darkest desires.

How could my father have hidden it from us all these years? It was my silly adolescent way of proving that I was a man, I suppose. When I saw my mother wince, I softened my tone and squeezed her hand. "I'll be back in a couple hours." I watched her leave the kitchen, staring at that great ass again. But suddenly we had a common problem and she was treating me like an adult, as an equal, and not like her child.

With all this conflict running through my head, I was on my way home to my mom and summer vacation. Then we kissed lightly on the lips as we have always done. "Sorry, Mom, I know I have to deal with this and so do you. I had no idea what to say so I just held her and let her cry. And like she had done at the station, she turned and smiled at me.

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