I looked sideways at mom and her eyebrows were knitted tightly. She was concerned. I thought about saying more to reassure her, but I didn't. Part of me enjoyed seeing her boundaries pushed and the worry that resulted.

I wanted to push those boundaries. I took my right hand off the wheel and set it high on mom's left thigh, probably no more than six inches from the ruddy, inviting slit between her legs. I squeezed her thigh. I felt her shiver, and I felt the muscle of her thigh twitch and contract, but she didn't move her legs. They remained open. I looked at where it lay on her...