She fished out a piece of paper. She handed it to me to read. Jeff Collins, a phone number and address in Newport, Rhode Island. Not more than an hour...from where we lived.I reached into my back pocket and took out my wallet. I took out a business card with the words ’don’t forget to call me’ handwritten on the back and handed it to mom. She read, Grace Thompson, Realtor, cell phone and fax number, Manchester, New Hampshire. A little more than an hour from where we lived.Mom held my hand in her. My efforts lasted a whole 5 seconds, Till my mother slightly stirred and her nipple moved around under my fingers.With all the excitement surging through me, and my adrenaline steady flowing I mustered up an ounce of man and did something I never thought I'd have the gutsto do. Spreading the fingers of my right hand, I cupped my mother’s left breast into my hand and squeezed a little. From my mother came a dim moan, surprising, because I was expecting to get slapped across the face and kicked. She said "I'm not so sure. We hardly know one another and like I said I'm married." I told her that I would be a complete gentleman and that I wouldn't try any funny stuff. (Even though I wanted to in a bad way) She agreed and I followed her to her home. I asked where her husband was and she said he would be gone for the rest of the week for work. Then is when I understood just how lonely she was but she was a faithful wife and I didn't want to push my luck and say anything that would get me. Then she leaned into him, so he possibly couldn’t move an inch, pulled up the left wrist where his arm was uselessly pinned by their combined weight to the ground, and looped the tie round one last time, pulled the end through the loop and held it tight. His four limbs were completely hog-tied. And all it took was a couple of seconds. All her movements had been calm, measured and inexorable, almost effortless.“Remarkable!” I said, and I really meant it. I had never seen anything like it.“Yeah,.
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