We don’t say a word, the silence is palpable.Eventually, she asks, “How long were you there?”“Long enough, Amy, long enough.”“Oh god, you ...aw me come, you dirty sod. What will my Mom say?”“You won’t be telling your Mom, Amy.”She looked at me, as if to challenge me, then a smirk played on her lips. “Did you enjoy it, watching me I mean ? Did you wish it was you fucking me ?”I told her no, that I didn’t enjoy it one bit. Lying through my teeth.“Bet you couldn’t manage it anyway, you’re getting on. In many ways, her antics made my nudity seem tame. I know that's an incredible statement, but judge for your self.I remember one night when we were watching the tube. Carla and I were on the couch and mom was in her favorite lounge chair, legs stretched out on the ottoman in front of her. I was nude, Carla was in a short black T-shirt that she'd borrowed from me after another one of our sex-romps, and Mom was in a nightgown and robe. The lights were out in the living room, but enough light. More

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