I couldn’t find Mom in the kitchen or the living room so I headed upstairs. I flicked on an occasional light on my way, leaving a trail of dripping water in the hallway behind me. It was least a few degrees warmer up top. I found Mom inside the master bedroom. She was standing at the edge of her and Dad’s four-poster bed searching for towels through a pile of clean washing. There was a single bedside lamp on. I drunk in the sight of her half-lit figure from the doorway. A modern-day Botticelli: her sleek legs seemingly rising forever until finally flaring into her round full ass.I stepped in and crept up behind her. The water from her wet underwear had formed little pools of damp on the carpet. The smell of perfume and chlorine floated into my sinuses. I was about to bring my hands up to her shoulders, when suddenly she turned. Mom jumped, startled by my presence. We stood face-to-face for a moment, neither of us moving. The ambient light caught her hair and the eyelash on her right. “Vell I was flying along in mine Messerschmitt Bf 109 at about 10,000 metres”.The interviewer interrupted him by explaining to the viewing audience, “The Messerschmitt was a type of German fighter, please continue.”“Well I looked out of mine left cockpit and saw 10 Fokkers, zen I looked out of mine right cockpit and saw another 10 Fokkers and zen I looked in mine mirror and I saw another 10 Fokkers behind me.”Again the interviewer interrupted, fearing an outcry about ‘THAT’ word, “Viewers, just to clarify, the Fokker was another type of German fighter plane.”“Nein, Nein,” exclamed Adolf, “These Fokkers were Spitfires.”WHY ... Just a simple little word, but a word that can strike terror, apprehension and a severe case of the stuttering mumbles in any male above the age of puberty.Example:- Young man at a Dance hall/Disco, Etc; espies an especially attractive female across the room. Sidles over with lust in his eyes, sex on the brain and a bright line of chat up on the lips.Spends the.
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