I was 49 and he was 28. He was my own son. He was looking interested in me! and me? In one mind I was trying to shut these thoughts off my mind and in...other, I was liking him, his company…..his body! My son had touched the woman in me. He had talked what a woman dies to hear to. I went to the mirror and looked at myself. here I was at 49. A bit fat, ripe and a fresh handsome man, my son was sold out on me. I felt proud looking at my image in the mirror.I said to myself, “Rajani…you still have. Things were definitely not going my way. Since the last Christmas Party, I'd dated four different girls, two from work, two setup by friends, and with the latest brush-off I was 0-4. I was beginning to forget what real sex was like. I'd never had that much trouble, but my new job with its clearances and classified projects had me working under situations anything BUT conducive to romantic efforts. Endless overtime hours, long, sudden work trips, to places you can't talk about, and the effort to. More

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