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She could tell by the look in his eyes. He had to do it but wouldn’t. Not to his mother he wouldn’t. Even with that sensuous looking blouse she wore which seemed to fall and lay on her so that every line or crease which existed on her upper body defined her boobs like they did; he wanted to reach out and do it only once. He wanted to feel them, touch them, but only if she would allow it. “Honey,” she said again before pausing a moment. He did not look at her. His eyes remained where they were- on her breasts. She held him close against her warm remarkably wonderful frame. “Would you like to touch one of them?” Her question stunned him. He instantly looked up and into her face and eyes. Is she like crazy he asked? Oh my God, really…really touch her breasts? No way, he thought. No way does a mother, my mother, ask something like that. Does she? “It’s alright honey,” she added, softly and sweetly. “I won’t mind.” She smiled as she said it. “Go ahead. Go on and touch one of them. I won’t. The culture was now recovering but a civil war had broken out. Our cargo was for the losers. We were met with hostility until we explain we were just delivering cargo. The ship above had transported mercenaries for the losing side.The language was basic but had undergone a major shift. Katie could barely make herself understood but I was completely baffled. The officials wouldn’t deal with a woman. We decided she would act as an interpreter. That meant she would bargain and I would show approval or disapproval according to her hand signals. An agreement was reached and we would bring down the cargo the next day.Back at the ship we decided there was a lot to salvage from the disabled ship. No cargo but supplies and spare parts. We found several ship’s systems we could pull and use to upgrade our own ship or to sell. We moved the Olakana over next to the disabled ship and Frieda and Mattie started the transfer while Katie and I returned to the surface.Half of the crates were unloaded.
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