But what a damned sandbagger.I couldn't help but wonder. If Robbie had gotten my Mom, the Ice Princess, in bed, who else had he fucked? Carol? Bridget? Mary? I'd have to talk with Robbie someday, and find out. I wondered if any of my other buds had gotten Mom in bed. My ice queen Mother had a side that I had never suspected. She always had a soft spot for Roger. Hmmm.The next weekend was the Valley Festival and most of the town turned out. Dad didn't want to go, so I picked Mom up late Saturday morning. We walked through all the exhibits, hand in hand, just a Mother and her loving Son. Nothing to see here, folks. As we were eating our hotdogs for lunch, we heard a voice behind us. "What are you two doing? Hotdogs aren't on the diet," and we turned around to see Carol and Jim. They were holding hands and, as we chatted with them, Carol repeatedly hugged Jim's arm - that patented Carol move. I didn't even have to wonder how Jim was doing - it was written all over his face.We walked and. Nothing changes and everything goes on. You have to, too. Somehow.I'm vaguely conscious of your presence. It does not fill my head like it's supposed to. The fire's been reduced to a spark that needs to be fanned. Even when I look up into your dark eyes, it's a struggle to recognise the passion, compassion and primal lust in them. I miss your eyes. I miss your gaze. It gives me my worth, and I need to feel worthy today more than ever.Shutting my eyes, I shift slightly in my bonds. The cloth that binds my wrists to the old metal bed-frame does not hurt. It does not even restrict my movements or hold me firmly in place. Yet, there is no desire to escape or fight. Perhaps it is the dense humidity. Perhaps it is the emptiness inside that numbs the senses you're trying to awaken. Perhaps I just never want to run from you. I belong with you, to you.You sit on the bed, beside me, drinking in my spread form. For a moment, you can't decide to touch, taste or just hold me. So you just watch.
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