You’ve been moping around the house a lot lately and I’m not sure why. When you come wandering into my room one Friday night, I want to know why you’re trying to hang out with your mom rather than a date. You confess that you’re insecure about something, something…private. Of course I can’t imagine what it might be. You have top marks at school, you’re handsome and strong, you drive that perhaps a little too extravagant car that I couldn’t resist buying you. You admit that it’s…your cock. You’ve never really seen anyone else’s and, well, would I take a look? I protest, but share with you that I did something similar for my brother when we were younger. Okay. I take a gulp of my cocktail, reach out my hands, and undo your pants