I wanted to tell him that if he were any other man I'd be fucking him now like a silly little slut in heat. But he wasn't any other man, he was my son... Worse still he was my Rapist. That wound was still there and it made it difficult for me to surrender my body to him; willingly, completely, utterly. In the back of my mind was that scene when I begged him in this very bed not to rape me, when I cried, and was humiliated by my only son. He had not cared how much he hurt me, how scared I was. He. ”Then something dark and primal tugged at me way down deep. I didn’t understand the meaning of her next sentence in any coherent, logical sense. All I got was the loose meaning on an instinctive level. A hint of something illicit and thrilling when Janet finished with a near whisper: “I don’t mind you looking. I actually like it.”***I boggled, mind unable to cope. I understood what Aunt Janet had said, but couldn’t reconcile her apparent meaning with my concept of reality. So I stared, the. More

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