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Every time we stopped, Mom patted my thigh with her left hand as a kind of 'good work' signal. When we moved onto a third piece, I suggested that we each play with one hand. At first, I let my right hand hang awkwardly between us but, with the need to sometimes reach across Mom, I curled it around her waist, holding onto her hip. Mom let her idle hand rest on my thigh and took to squeezing my leg instead of patting it when we completed a particularly successful section. In response, I pulled her toward me, enabling my hand to wrap farther around her waist, onto to her stomach just below her breast. I was in heaven. We practiced that piece a lot, working out who should play what. At first we each played only the keys nearest us but it sounded better when we both played the full board, mostly on our own side but sometimes having to reach across in front of the other. This wasn't a problem for Mom but I found myself necessarily grazing the front and underside of her left breast quite. ‘When all this started with me waking, having you in my bed and naked. I would have given your question maybe a two, yet as time has gone on and I have seen the progress within me that scale has increased by the day. I know what you or, rather we, are doing isn’t exactly in any book, but life carries no instruction manual. Sure I could have got up and left at any time that door was always open, but I stayed because I asked for your help. Because it was you who pulled me back from my emotional abyss.’ Karen leaned closer, her tits crushed against the edge of the table. I’m not sure she even noticed as she listened to me, yet I was always noticing things about Karen now. ‘When Traci died I wanted so much to join her, when the people at the hospital put me back together, in my mind I simply existed treading water, if you will. I came here because I needed to heal and up until Traci’s birthday I had come to realize I hadn’t even started down that path.’ I held out my hand, Karen simply.
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