I wanted to talk with John about what had happened, but I couldn't. I had wanted to clear some things out, maybe to tell him I was sorry, that we should forget all about it, on the other hand I wasn't able to conduct such a discussion in the state of decomposure I was in…I was really happy when Tim was around, it felt much more easier…

That night John came to me. I somehow knew it would happen again, and yes, I was hoping for him to come. I knew what the sex-urge was, how hard it was resisting it, how easy it was to give in. If I needed it so bad, then how much more did my son need it? I knew from experience what the sex-drive meant for a youngster…I knew that by letting him take a bite from the forbidden apple, he would want it all, and he would come after more. I knew I wasn't strong enough to stop him, I wanted it as bad as him, missing it for so long… That night when my son came into my room, I knew our lives would change. Nothing would be the same…ever.

I was lying awake, thinking of the day, remembering the wonderful few moments I had had on my birthday, the moments of pure love my son had given to me, the loving moments, so dangerous and immoral, but so pleasurable and heavenly. However they were blurry. Blurry with the feeling of guilt and sin. Then I couldn't remember everything straight. Maybe it was the wine or maybe it was the pure excitement…

I was fingering myself for the second time since I had gone to bed when I heard my bedroom door open.

"Mom, are you awake", hearing John's whispering voice really startled me, I was hoping with all my hart that he would come to me, knowing how sinful it would be…I had awaited him, like a woman awaits her secret lover at night…