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Blame it on the champagne, I said, "I can't take it off, but I'll show you." Now, I wasn't wearing a bra and I don't have big tits, (I'm a 34B) but they're firm, they're cute and they're mine.And the nipples were getting pointy and tender from rubbing on the thin material.It was an alcohol-fueled game and I hoped he was nearly as embarrassed as I felt.And though I recognized that it was becoming a touch inappropriate, I enjoyed the bonding experience, and besides it was just harmless banter between mother and son.

My son Jeff is now twenty-three, he was a collegiate wrestler and now works as a free-lance artist, illustrating a line of graphic comics. The first nutty incident happened about five years ago.I have seen pictures of women at Mardi Gras doing it for beads, and it always seemed playful and a cheap thrill. But there was something else; an odd, submissive twinge of wanting to obey sexual orders that left me feeling naughty.It was wanting to do what I was told, by a young, strong man..a kinky thought that it was my son. Maybe I should stop drinking, though actually I don't drink very much.Or maybe I should just give-up sex, but I really love that sparkling feeling.

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