My goodness, it was her in paused face of what to do. Then stopped my bike and checked with her, what’s the problem, she said, the bike is not start...ng.I tried to help her by starting it. Can’t do so, I gave a plan of her to sit on the bike, will pusher bike with my legs, so she can reach her house. My first impression was a great one to record in her mind.We started meeting in parks, saying hi and bye. Spent some time chatting with her in the park. Then come to know about her background. She. I snuck peeks up her skirt, down her blouse, watched her walk away or toward me; the delicious symphony of movement that was my mother's body — and she had to have known it, felt my eyes devouring her — but nothing was said. What would she have said, chastised me for realizing my own mother was a woman or that I found her attractive? I can guess that she enjoyed the attention, and did not provoke or lead me further down that forbidden path — with the belief that I would soon grow out of it.I. More

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