She uttered a closed-mouthed “I don’t know” sound, but her left hand left the couch and touched the front of my pants. I could see her nervousne...s. I was a married man, and this wasn’t her forte, but she clearly had some urges she couldn’t deny. And just like that, everything was back… my desire, my urge… all of it driving me crazy. I had had enough. Time to go for it.I reached down and took her hand, then bent to gently kiss the back of her open fingers and return her hand to the couch. Then,. My return home was no happier than when I had left. I was stronger. My path remained uncertain, but fraught with fewer pits. Mother had helped me face one thing, but it was not the important one. I did not forgive her for betraying her maternal trust, once again, but I understood it. Understanding it, I had begun to glean something new of myself. I was a sexual predator, the daughter of a sexual predator. In the jungle of nature's passions, cluttered with mechanical rabbits, I was the she. "I couldn't name the expression I tried to hide, but I wasn't fastenough."Oh my God," she said. "You're going to search for them." Did you recognize them when you saw?" What do you mean? Of course I--oh!" Her turn to blush. "Well, thereare a lot of sites, you know, and nobody uses real names..." Do you still look at the same sites?"She looked up. "Didn't pull that punch, did you? Yeah, well, some.It's different, but the same. I mean, a lot of the same things turn meon. Sometimes for. I don't think I feltmuch like sleeping.Part IVMom had the covers all pulled down neatly so the bed looked so inviting.The small lamp on the bedside table made the room look very cosy and warm.I crawled into bed on the side away from the door - that way the nightmonsters would get Mom first. We laughed together at this joke. Then Momslipped in between the covers. She was also wearing baby-doll PJs, buthers were more frilly and the material was thinner. I knew this becauseyou could almost see.