There I was in front of her. She motioned a hug. I don't hug very often. I am not a hugger. Hugging and massage is foreplay. My grandparents and my parents hugged me.
I warned her that she may feel something. I could feel it. I could see the lump growing in my checkered, flannel pants. I hugged her. She felt it. Her lips drew tight.
“Oh, baby!”, I said.
I looked at her face. Close. She was looking at me hard with those warm brown eyes behind the mask of age. I could see the lines around her eyes and the corners of her mouth.