In spite of the somewhat stimulating shower we'd both taken, we were both semi-flaccid. Jim rubbed me nicely, my erection returned. Taking my hand, Ji... led me out of the bathroom and into the bedroom. I noticed it was neat and tidy. I wondered if Annette had something to do with that. Walking to the bed, I sat on the edge, looking up at Jim. "You think you are ready for more?" he asked. He had a look of concern on his face. I didn't want to tell him that I didn't care if I was ready or not, I. My mother obviously had otherchanges in mind, changes that she wasn't eager to talk about.Then I began to think about other changes that had occurred in mylife over the past summer. I suppose that I had always beensomething of a mama's boy, but there are just some things that atwelve-year-old boy just can't talk about with his mother.Recently, though, we had grown even closer, and we talked aboutnearly everything. Only a few nights before, I had sat down andwatched an old movie with my mother. More

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