Opening the door, I handed her the phone. I tried to look innocent, even as thoughts of tickling her came back. Or doing something far more fun than ...ickling. I was hard and the scent of her was still in my nose. As we passed, I looked at her, and our eyes met. For a moment I wanted to lean in and kiss her, to taste those sweet-looking lips. Knowing that it would damage our fifteen-year friendship so very badly was the only thing that stopped me. That and my phone rang. It was Chris. He was. More recently I was under the impression that mother knew her son yearned for her but ensured my childish antics came to to nought. She also never said a word to me about it, and for that I knew she loved and honoured me and every time I made some fumbling attempt toward her, guilt filled me for days after.Now after years of stupid childish attempts I stand impotent in my room, trembling and shocked at what I had done, just when one of my sorties at mother had actually worked.Of course I had. More

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