Erotic story leads to erotic encounters

By then I was more angry than scared. I just stood there returning her glare. Slowly, her features softened, and she nodded her head slightly. I saw her gaze shift, and realized a moment too late what I had done. In a matter of a split second her expression went from anger to sympathy to surprise. I scrambled for the papers and held them in front of my crotch but it was too late. I took a deep breath, preparing for my death.

“David, sit down.” she said, a surprising tenderness in her voice.

I complied, arranging the pages across my lap as I tried to beg my cock to soften.

“Alright, confession time.” she said, shifting around again. This time she carefully arranged her robe to keep herself covered.

There was an awkward silence as I tried to work through exactly what I was going to say. I looked over at her, my eyes begging for mercy. Her lips formed a slight smile as her hand reached out to cover mine.

“Okay, I’ll start.” she said, her fingers lightly squeezing my hand.

“I know I told you I was going to read this just to correct spelling and grammar, but there’s so much wrong with it. I mean, erotic fiction was not a fair description of this. This was porn, plain and simple. Somehow I thought this was supposed to be more analytical. I thought you were supposed to be examining the story and how the problems that arise are overcome.”

“The analysis was the…” I started, but she raised a finger to my lips.

“Let me finish. When you write the analysis, you need to be more analytical. In fact, I think you need to be more analytical in the whole thing.”

“God! She hadn’t read everything!” I thought. “The whole analysis was in the last three pages, I had made it sort of a synopsis.”

“There are a lot of descriptive elements in there that serve well if this is a story, but they don’t really get to the point of analyzing the problems that something so taboo carries with it. There’s too much emotion, both shared and evoked. Is it believable, yes. But believable isn’t the point now is it?”

“I don’t get it, mom. I mean, it’s the details, the emotions that are the whole point.” I said, feeling relieved that she hadn’t shot me, and defensive about my paper.

“I see, so we can look at any of the scenes in there, and you can tell me how it relates to the points you are trying to make?”

“Uhm, yeah. I mean some are easier than others but, uhm sure. Anything in there relates to a point I make in the analysis, sure.”

“Okay. So how about we take a couple sections and you can tell me how it needs to be there.” she said, sliding up onto the bed and leaning against her pillow.

“You read it and I’ll just sit back and listen. Here’s your chance to convince me this isn’t just some porn story. You can either stand up and read it, or if you would feel more comfortable, you can sit facing away from me.”

I flipped through the pages trying to find something that I could read without being too embarrassed. It still needed to be one that mom had questioned, so I settled on the section about laundry.

“Uhm, well I guess this one.” I said, turning so I was facing the away from her. I immediately realized that facing away from her meant facing the mirror, and her reflection.

Please wait…

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