I lean in closer to ease the strain, and sigh."I guess we'll have to," I say, and I can smell your cologne, something sweet and spicy and rich, mingled with the clean scent of soap. When the train slows for the next stop, you maneuver both of us to the doors and help me onto the platform and out of the bustle of other passengers heading home for the night. Under the fluorescent lights that buzz and flicker, we huddle against a wall until the chaos dies down, and then move apart as much as we can.Our hands clash and fall away as we both reach for the snarl at the same time, and then you chuckle and reach for the long auburn curl caught in the dull gleam of my silver chain and the zipper. Slowly, you work the hair and jewelry loose and suddenly I'm free, rubbing the sore spot on my scalp and smiling up at you. Your eyes are blue-grey like Pennsylvania slate, so dark they must turn black with emotion, set in a face that reminds me of every Viking hero I ever read about in trashy romance. I was fit to burst inside with happiness. But it was more than just having sex I realized. It was about the secret thrill of doing it with someone you absolutely shouldn't be doing it with. A simple thing like going shopping with Mom had turned into a completely different experience.My Mother had a wide array of friends in her social circle. Most were merely a nod of recognition as they passed by on the street whereas some were familiar enough to stop and chat. And there I'd stand. Beside her. Trying not to grin like a loon as she chatted away and made small talk."Isn't your Henry a growing boy!" they'd always say and Mom would glance up at me and we'd share our secret smile. Can you keep a secret? The biggest secret ever. A secret no one must ever find out about. "Dear diary.." And all this had happened because my own Mother had stepped up to the plate. But I knew there was more to it than that. A lot more. Maybe by helping me, Mom was also helping herself in some way. It would be.
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