She had been touching me constantly - holding my hand walking from the car to the restaurant, my arm about her waist waiting to be seated at our table... sitting with our knees touching at the tiny intimate round table, and on the dance floor both of us using our bodies and hands liberally. Almost as if mother was using me for protection, afraid that our fun was only a dream.Don't mistake me - mother never intended what I was doing to her now - this is all my initiative, taking this to a place. I’ve made many a visit to this secluded field, a hidden gem of nature that I had happened upon during a previous trek through the forest. No one else is aware of its existence, as far as I know, so I always come here to sleep or think or maybe even touch myself. I certainly can’t do it at home, where any one of my many family members could suddenly walk in on me, which would definitely end in a loathsome punishment of sorts, since my family is very puritanical and religious. I mulled over that. More

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