When we got to the head of the line, a pair of valets each sprung out,each grabbed a side of the car, and opened our doors. We all seductivelyslithere... out. I saw the valet on Monica's side nod to the doorman andhe nodded back. I knew we were in. Sure enough, the four of us were flagged in, even though I felt like Iwas getting the second eyeing. We got to the door; each of us paid the$10 cover and went inside. Rhonda then pulled us aside. "I think we needto go to the ladies room." We crossed. At my polite request to keep the music down, several drunken frat boys had urged me to join the party. I almost considered it, but their leering gazes and sloppy attempts at flirtation made me a little sick and I withdrew.I had spoken to my mother the evening before; she was depressing me with interminable talk of Scott, our rich neighbor's son, who was in law school now. He and I had dated a little the previous year, and my mom was just agog with the idea that we might be a match. He was a. “Yeah,” I said again, never releasing her luscious body with my stare. She suddenly looked so small, so powerless; not at all like my mom. Not at all like I was her little boy. More like she was a sexy little petal for me to pluck. Even from several steps away, I sensed that her skin radiated heat. I couldn’t resist; I had to touch her. I closed the distance between us and took her in my arms, burying my face in her neck. Her aroma was overpowering; it flooded my senses, and I was unable to. I was embarrassingly old when I first found out about masturbation. And I lost my virginity to my girlfriend when I was twenty and she was eighteen. I was always a rather conventional lover. I like passion and sensuality in a woman, but I was never into threesomes or kinky toys.I have a darker secret though. For five years, I’ve masturbated thinking of my mom. I’m not quite sure how it all started. It must’ve been a combination of teenage hormones and the unusually close relationship I had with.
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