The fact that she was a woman and I was a man didn’t enter into it. It wasn’t going to result in me shagging her, because we had already done that...a long time ago and it hadn’t really worked. We were better as platonic friends, and if some people think that is impossible, perhaps post-platonic describes it better. We weren’t dying to find out what each other was like in bed, because we knew. And although we had enjoyed our brief full-on relationship, we kind of missed each other’s point a bit. . She was not staring at me but was simply looking at her son with a calm expression on her face. Her hands reached up to her neck and she unfastened the first button.I stood in utter fascination, immobile, nearly slack-jawed as my mother peeled her dress from her incredible body. This time skirt followed blouse and before I could pinch myself she handed me both, stark naked but for black stockings, white girdle, and cream colored brassier. For a kid like me it was as stark naked as I was. More

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