", you licked your lips. "Later, maybe, if you are good"...your hand stopped."Now my darlin, what did you dream of?", you asked. I could feel you loos...n the grip, your hand slid slowly away."Dont...I....", I hesitated"Dont what?" you replied."Dont stop, please"."If you stop, I stop, darlin", you replied."I had a dream, about you, us, but mostly you" So hot", you replied and I could feel your hand again."Jesus, it is embarrasing....I.."You continued to stroke me, it was a hot summer night and. We barely spoke to each other for the remainder of the weekend.What I didn't understand at the time was that my son was processing whohe was right now. Whilst he had met his grandfather and known, like Idid, that he was not like him, he had also seen me pretending to be a"normal man" in the past. He had thought I was like my father and that hehimself was different. Now seeing me dressed as a French Maid he hadbeen forced to recognise that I was not like my father. Being brought upby my. More

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