The next day was Saturday.
No school.
No work for Mom.
Leo woke up early.
His mind was still full of thoughts from last night.
The image of his mom alone on the sofa would not leave him.
He heard no sound from her room.
She was probably still sleeping.
She always slept late on Saturdays.
She was tired from the long week.
Leo got out of bed.
He walked quietly to the kitchen.
He made coffee.
But his hands were shaking.
His heart was beating hard again.
He went back to his room.
He tried to watch TV.
He tried to read.
But he could not focus.
His eyes kept looking at the door.
The door to his mom’s room.
She is sleeping, he thought.
She is alone.
A strange feeling grew inside him.
A hot, heavy feeling.
It was stronger than last night.
It was like a hunger.
He told himself, No.
This is wrong.
But his body did not listen.
His feet moved on their own.
He walked to her bedroom door.
It was slightly open.
He pushed it slowly.
It made no sound.
There she was.
His mom, Anna.
She was sleeping on her side.
The blanket was pulled up to her waist.
She wore a thin, soft nightgown.
Her hair was spread on the pillow.
Her face was peaceful.
She was deep in sleep.
Leo stood there, just looking.
His breath became fast.
His whole body felt hot.
He moved closer.
Step by step.
He stood next to the bed.
He could smell her perfume.
A soft, clean smell.
His eyes moved down her body.
The nightgown had ridden up a little.
He could see her legs.
They were smooth and bare.
The hunger inside him grew stronger.
His hands were trembling.
Slowly, very slowly, he knelt beside the bed.
His fingers touched the edge of her nightgown.
The fabric was soft and warm from her body.
He lifted it gently, just a little.
He could see her panties underneath.
They were light blue, simple cotton.
His heart was beating so loud he was sure it would wake her.
But she did not move.
She was in deep sleep.
With shaking fingers, he hooked his thumbs into the waistband of her panties.
He pulled them down, slowly, slowly.
He saw her.
Her private part.
It was the first time he had ever seen a woman like this in real life.
It was beautiful.
It was forbidden.
He could not stop now.
His own pants felt tight.
He was hard and aching.
He pulled down his own pants.
He did not think anymore.
He only felt.
He moved closer.
He positioned himself between her legs.
She was still sleeping.
Her breathing was deep and even.
He touched himself.
Then he touched her.
She was warm.
She was soft.
He pushed inside her, just a little.
She was tight.
She was wet from sleep.
A soft sound escaped her lips.
A small moan.
But her eyes stayed closed.
Leo moved deeper.
He went all the way in.
It felt incredible.
Hot.
Tight.
Forbidden.
He began to move.
Slowly at first, then faster.
The bed creaked softly.
His breath came in gasps.
He looked at her face.
She was still asleep.
But her mouth was open a little.
Her eyebrows were slightly furrowed, as if she was having a dream.
He wondered what she was dreaming about.
Was it about his dad?
Was it about being touched?
He didn’t know.
He didn’t care.
He only wanted this.
He only wanted her.
He moved harder.
He held her hips.
He buried his face in her neck.
He breathed in her smell.
He was close.
So close.
And then, he finished.
He spilled inside her with a low groan.
He stayed there for a moment, feeling her warmth around him.
Slowly, he pulled out.
He was shaking.
He pulled her panties back up.
He pulled her nightgown down.
He fixed his own pants.
He looked at her.
She had not woken up.
She was still sleeping peacefully.
He leaned down and kissed her forehead softly.
Then he turned and walked out of the room.
He closed the door quietly behind him.
In the hallway, he leaned against the wall.
His legs felt weak.
His mind was empty and full at the same time.
He had done it.
He had crossed a line.
A line that could never be uncrossed.
And part of him felt guilty.
But a bigger part of him felt powerful.
He felt a dark, warm excitement.
He went to the bathroom and washed his hands.
He looked at himself in the mirror.
His eyes were dark.
His face was flushed.
She is mine now, he thought.
In a way, she is mine.