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. more."Robby felt a little faint. "More." he repeated."Yes ... more." said his mother.He got up and went to his room, where he tried to think about his homework assignment. How could he possibly write a poem when all he could think about was his mother's body? The curve of her breasts, with their up-looking nipples, looking like tiny ski jumps or something.He stiffened. Wait a minute ... what if...He sat down and picked up his pencil.Thirty minutes later he laid the pencil down, undressed, put on his robe, and went to find his mother. She was in the living room, wearing her robe. This time it didn't bother Robby to see her in it."I'm done." he said. "We can paint now."She got up and stretched. The robe was tied tightly, but her breasts thrust out, pushing the silk toward him. "What did you write your poem about?" she asked, as she began walking toward the studio."The woman." he said.She stopped and turned around. "The woman who ... you think about when we paint?" She was looking at. I blurted out “Let’s go find out”, figured I was calling her bluff. She replied, “I have to get back to my 18th birthday party and girl friends, but I’m leaving with you tonight.” and turned back to her friends who were giggling.I headed to the bar to think this one over. I sat and collected my thoughts. That night club had mostly a bunch of ho’s and country girls (white shoes that looked like they came from Po Dunk Payless.) What the hell, I’ll sit back and see if Birthday girl pans out...Yep, just as I figured. No show, as I walked to the exit. Just as I exited the door, she took my arm. “My name is Kimmy, can we go to your place? What are you driving, I’ll follow.” I was pretty stunned as I pointed to my 300ZX. She was driving a Toyota and followed me back to my apartment. We went straight to the bedroom, where we were making out. I pulled off her top over her head as she stepped out of her dress. She fumbled with my belt until I helped as they dropped to the floor. Kimmy grabbed.
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