"And I just don't know how it would be with him. How it would be with anybody," she said. "I'm older now. I don't know how desirable I am." "Desirable..." I echoed. "Well...he seems to think that you're desirable." She gave me a doubting look. "Well, he's never seen me without my clothes on," she said. "Things change." She paused. Having gone that far, she added, "And I don't know how good I am at it. I mean, it's not the kind of thing that you can practice." It was sort of funny to see my mother. I looked around at times to see if anybody just happened to "drop in" to the office.It was not out of the question and the door was wide open. Feeling like a trapped animal, my heart was beating fast and tears began to form in my eyes. How had I gotten into this? What had I done or said that would make him think I would allow him to do this?My reactions and self-examination didn't stop his hand. In spite of my hand trying to stop his, it had very slowly continued its advance up my leg. He. More

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