I knew he was rationalizing, at least somewhat, but he was also hitting a soft spot with me. Since his dad had left, it was just me. I knew that I was...probably being over protective, but I also knew that I had to fill the role of both mom and dad in his life, since his own dad spent less and less time with him as the years went by before he left us. "But honey," I said, trying to gain control of the conversation again, "It’s one thing for us to talk about things like sex and masturbation, and. But I still long to proudly wear his steel again, to have that something that I can reach up and grab a hold of and be reminded in some small, self-absorbed way of being able to physically be reassured that I am, indeed, his. I think of the things he has noticed and pointed out to me already, small changes that I hadn’t really noticed myself but once pointed out, embarrassed because it was true. Speaking first person comes to mind quickly because even writing in this forum, I speak it but now,. More

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