I should have seen it coming when my daughters started to complain about Corky.

Corky, that's my son. He's a husky teenager, friendly, happy, a really good kid. But he has Down syndrome, so even though he's 18 -- an adult in the world's terms -- he's like a younger boy. In some ways, like a much younger boy, mentally, trapped in a man's body. Sure, it was hard on us at first, when we found out, but life goes on, and so does Corky.

Like a man, he has urges. Like a boy, he has curiosity. I guess that's why I wasn't surprised when Paige -- that's my husband's girl -- and then Becca, our younger daughter, both came to me complaining that they suspected Corky of peeking when they were changing or taking a shower.

Maybe I should have done something then, talked to Corky or let Dan do it. But I didn't want to make a big deal out of it, or upset Corky. I just told the girls to keep their doors closed. I thought that would take care of it.

But then there was that incident with Amanda.

She's the seven-year-old daughter of one of the families down the street. Like all the kids around here -- well, like just about everybody, actually -- she liked Corky and he liked her. Sometimes I'd see him playing catch with her and some of her friends, or they'd all be waiting for the ice cream truck together.

Then one day -- it was a Tuesday, I remember that clearly -- Corky had come home from school and said he was going out to the back. I didn't pay much attention; he's much more capable than most people with Down syndrome; he can look after himself.

I was baking cookies and I had to slap his hand away when he tried to snatch some of the raw dough as he went past. So a little while later, when the first batch was done, I put a few on a plate and went back to give them to Corky.

I almost dropped the plate when I saw him with Amanda. He was standing next to her, her in a pale pink jumpsuit with a grass stain on the left knee. I can see it even now.

Corky's jeans and briefs were down around his ankles. His penis was sticking out, right about the level of Amanda's mouth. Thank God, she hadn't sucked on it. But Corky was guiding her little hands to his shaft and she was rubbing it. It looked so obscene, his engorged cock waving in that little girl's face. I could have screamed.

Luckily I didn't. In this neighborhood, one shout would have brought at least a couple of heads out of windows and then God knows what would have happened to Corky.

I don't know. Maybe it would have been better that way. But I'm his mother. I couldn't let anything happen to my son.

But I couldn't let this happen to Amanda, either. I ran out to them, whispering to Corky to pull his pants up. He blushed when he saw me.

Amanda didn't blush; she didn't seem to understand what was wrong. I sent Corky into the house while I talked to the little girl. I pledged her to secrecy, saying that she shouldn't tell her mommy or anyone or else Corky might get into trouble. Maybe that was wrong, too, but even if the police could understand, I didn't want everyone thinking of my son as the neighborhood pervert.

I stood and watched as Amanda ran back to her house. On the way, she called out to two of her friends across the street. They were just as young and cute as she was. I think that's when I decided what I had to do.

Corky was in his room with the door locked, sulking. I tried tempting him with the cookies, but he wouldn't open up. Luckily, we keep an extra key around just in case. I let myself in and locked the door behind me.

I knew Dan wouldn't get home from work for several hours, and the girls both had errands to run that should keep them out until late. That was good; I would need this time alone with Corky.

He was sitting on the bed, scrunched into one corner. He ducked his head to avoid looking at me as I sat beside him.

"Corky?" I tugged gently at his chin. "Come on, you can talk to me."

"Don't wanna," he said, turning away.

"Corky, we have to talk. What you did with Amanda... it isn't right."

"But she said it was OK. I asked her if she wanted to touch it, and she said yes. And then she was gonna let me touch her."

I sucked in my breath. It was as bad as I had feared. "I'm sure she did, Corky. But Amanda's too little to know what she was doing. She doesn't know what's right and wrong. It's up to you to be responsible, not to ask her to do things she shouldn't."

"But who can I ask," Corky spluttered, turning to face me. "The girls my age don't want anything to do with me because I'm a dummy!"

I put my arms around him; he shrugged them off. "But you have lots of friends in school, don't you? They don't call you a dummy."

"No, but they won't let me do things with them, either. I know 'cause I asked one girl and she just laughed."

"Well, Corky, what you want to do... it's not something you just do for fun. You have to really love someone."

"I know," he said with an exaggerated sigh. "That's what they said in our sex education class. But lots of the other guys do it with girls, and they're not married or really in love or anything. Besides, I gotta do it. My thing gets hard and, I don't know, I just gotta."

We just sat there in silence for a few minutes. My heart was pounding in my ears. I may have always known a day like that would come some day, a day when Corky's body would demand things that his mind couldn't control.

But I couldn't just ignore it, not if I wanted to keep Corky in his family, and I desperately wanted to do that. I fought when they said he couldn't go to school and I fought when they said he couldn't cope with regular classes and I would not accept that he could not function in regular society.

But how could he go on when his hormones were raging and he lacked self-control? How could I avoid any more incidents like the one with Amanda?

I knew there was only one way, but while I sat there on the bed, in Corky's room with the son I had burped and bathed and nurtured through his long childhood, I tried to think of another solution.

There wasn't any. I lifted my head at last and looked my son in the eyes.

"Corky, I know that your body needs certain things. That's natural. Everyone has needs like yours. But you're right, most of the girls your age probably don't want to do those things with you. And it's wrong to do them with little girls."

"So what am I gonna do, Mom?" Tears glistened in the corners of his eyes.

"We have to find another way to give your body what it wants," I said softly. "And I only know one way to do that."

I stood up then and stepped back from the bed. My fingers were trembling and they fumbled at the buttons of my blouse, but at last I got it off. When I looked up, Corky was staring at me, mouth half open.

I have what I guess you'd call a lush body, at least if you were polite. At my age you can't expect to be a bathing beauty unless you're Raquel Welch, but I have curves in all the right places. My breasts are very large, and they heaved against my bra as I stood in front of my son.

"Take your clothes off, too, Corky," I told him as I unzipped my slacks and stepped out of them.

He was almost too shocked to move, I think, but he managed to undo the buttons of his shirt while I stepped out of my shoes and slipped off my half-socks.

I would have to help him. I stepped forward and unbuckled his belt, tugging his jeans and his briefs down. His cock sprung out like it was propelled, fat and long and hard.