There was cereal and milk on the table, so I made bowl and ate. I could not help thinking, although I was being treated like a girl I was still a boy....And why did I not object to all the things that had been done to me. I told myself that I hadnt been hurt, except when she pulled on my eye brows, and did feel kind of nice being treated as a girl. My thoughts were soon interrupted as Mommy came into the kitchen, wearing very plain clothes, and stockings and heels, that made her legs look. I could feel him pulse inside me, and to each throbof his penis, I would return of a loving squeeze by contracting my vagina on his penis.After two or three minutes, Robert broke the silence. “Mom, I am sorry. I should not have done that.”He was still inside me as we lay there recovering. And he was still heavy, firm and stiff, if notcompletely rigid.“No you really should not have,” I agreed. “But I am as much to blame as you. More perhaps.”“But you did tell me to stop, several times; you asked. More

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