When my eyes would break open to reality, I’d see her apart from my dreams. Fully clothed. Stern. Quiet. And it was that very attitude she possessed... that intrigued me so. I wanted to see how her mouth would open in O shapes and how her teeth would grit if I pleasured her intensely. I wanted to see the way she gripped on to the pillow, or if she would be as quiet or plain as she seemed. However she was, I wanted her. To see it. To feel it. To hear it. To taste it. From the day she brushed by me,. Oh how I wish I could have that dream again. It didnt take long for me to relieve myself with such a thought, I headed down stairs to the kitchen to grab some breakfast when I noticed a small note on the fridge. It was a list of house chores, clean the yard, organize the garage, the list went on and then it hit me. Last night actually happened and this wasnt just a list of chores but an opportunity for me to relieve myself with my moms helping hand. I ate my cereal while reading over the list. As had been the low cut front, showing just a hint of cleavage and the high hem line, hovering three or four inches above her bronzed knees. Going back to her dressing table, she’d added the final piece of the jigsaw, a simple gold locket that had hung around her shapely neck nestling comfortably on her bosom between the gently rising flesh of her breasts. Stepping back a little in front of the mirror, she’d reviewed her efforts. A quick adjustment of her hair, and she’d grinned at her. She bent a neck around the door."What?"The interior of the boathouse, for all that it was less than three months old, looked like it had been the catch-all of miscellany for fifty years. There was a small dinghy hanging from the ceiling, odd masts, spars, an old Coast Guard can buoy ... with brass gong, old license plates, watering cans, hoses, a broken sextant, lines in various stages of deterioration, shovels, the anchor with the broken fluke ... that was the result of the K5 and boathouse.