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She shuddered. “You’re my son. This is wrong.”“I don’t care,” he said. “I know you’re not getting enough. You’re frustrated. In need... I can give you what you crave. I can give you the pleasure you’re missing out.”“Clint,” she whimpered as he squeezed her rump. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”“Don’t I, Mom?” His right hand slid around her hip, caressing her body through her dress. He slid up her stomach. His hand climbed higher and higher, vanishing beneath her apron. He reached her. At first Mum didn't realise that I was serious and told me to stop messing about and get my car keys. But when I said that the keys were staying in my pocket until she agreed to pay me what I wanted, the atmosphere changed. At first Mum said that it was out of the question, but as the minutes ticked by and her chances of making the train became slimmer, I heard her say that she'd do it. I tried to keep the sense of triumph out of my voice as I told Mum I wanted to take another 36 shots of her. More

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