"I don't know, mom. I guess I shouldn't have seen what you did." Blondie smiled at her son's embarrassment. "But you saw me. Now, tell me what you'r... really thinking." Alexander stared at his mother's hand massaging his thigh. He could swear that she was moving it up his leg. "I think you were really enjoying what you were doing." "I was, baby, I was." Her hand did definitely slide up an inch that time. Alexander stared at it, hypnotized by the movement of his mother's petite hand. With some chitchat I had distracted her, and only now, she realized where I led her. With wide-open eyes she looked at me, then at the facade of the dance school. ‘Dance school Meier’ was written in large letters across the window. ‘The son has finally taken over from his father half a year ago, and offers, in addition to dance classes, Tea- and Dinner-dances on weekends. The furnishing and the decoration has become fashionable again, he now rides on the nostalgia wave.’ I explained. ‘Do you. More

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