I have an appointment with a man named Lucas. Lucas? The same name as my sweet step-son. The boy who my ex-husband forbade me to see, but the boy that always loved me, “I love you more than my mother,” he would tell me as his warm eyes melted my heart.
I was shocked when I saw a handsome man walk in the door! Was it him? He was always handsome as an eighteen year old, and although he is just a year older, he still has the same boyish face I fell in love with. I was quick to apologize for myself but assure him that I was happy. I felt as though I had to explain myself, tell him that society has a terrible stigma, and that women like myself aren’t “bad.” He could never think of me as bad, he only wanted me, he wanted to be with me. When his hand touched my body, I felt a quiver run up my spine, my breathing slowed, wetness trickled down into my lace panties. He wanted me, and God forgive me, I wanted him as well.
