March 15 A disturbing development — my son has started staring at my breasts and sometimes "accidentally" touches them. He asks me questions that show he knows very little about female anatomy. I believe ignorance about sexuality can lead to major problems in life, so I got an illustrated book about the human body, and we sat down together with it. The book made me realize I didn't know all that much myself, but more than him at least.

My problem is that now he wants me to show him. I point to the drawings, but he says they don't really show what those parts are like (he's right). He wants to see me.

My first impulse was just to tell him no. But then I got to thinking that would just send him to searching the Internet, and most of those porn sites are so awful, so degrading to women. I don't want him to find out that way. Who knows what that might turn him into. He doesn't have girlfriends yet, but when he does and still doesn't have the proper knowledge, he could get into all sorts of trouble. What he needs now is knowledge.

To supplement the sex-ed book, I'm considering showing him my breasts, so he knows what that part of a woman is like.

March 16 I've thought and thought about this issue, even prayed about it (and didn't get any mighty message, Don't Do That!) and have finally decided to show Dave my bosom, but in the middle of the day in an atmosphere of education. I'll let you know how it goes. I'm glad to have you to confide in, Dear Diary. I'm afraid to talk about this with any of my friends.

March 17 I think showing him my breasts was a good experience for both of us. I did it midday in the living room so the setting wouldn't be too intimate, and I didn't make a big deal about it, just told him it was natural for him to want to know what the other half of the human race looks like. Trying to be matter-of-fact, I pulled off my top and undid my bra.

His first reaction made me think, Oh no, this was a bad idea. His mouth hung open and his eyes got big and he smiled. I blushed with embarrassment. But it was sweet how curious he was about them. I turned around so he could see them from different angles. He said they were changing, now the tips were sticking out more and getting darker and wrinkled, and asked me why that was.

I told him because the air was cold on them. But that wasn't the reason. It was because of the way he was looking at them. I thought I should maybe stop this right now. But if I stopped so soon, he would get the impression I believed something was wrong about the human body, and I didn't want that to happen.

He wanted to touch them, but I didn't let him. But I did explain how the milk is made inside and then flows out the nipple when the baby sucks on it. He wanted to know all about how it was when he'd done that with me, and I told him it was a special time for both of us and it brought us very close.

He asked if it was hard to walk with them and how I kept from bumping into things. I told him you get used to it. Then he wanted me to walk around so he could see them move, so I paraded around the rug and did a few aerobics while he stared mesmerized.

I figured that was enough, so I started to put my bra back on, but he wanted to know all about the bra, how it worked, did it hurt. While I was explaining it, though, he was paying more attention to my bosom up close, and he managed to lean against it with his arm. I said, "End of lesson" and put my bra and top back on. He asked again if he could touch me there, I said no again, and that was it.

It got a bit awkward now and then, but all in all I think it was a helpful part of his education. But I'm still torn in two different directions, very much at war with myself about this whole thing.

March 18 Since our anatomy lesson, Dave can't take his eyes off my breasts. He's always watching them. Now that he knows what they look like, he must be imagining them under my bra. This makes me uncomfortable, and I've told him several times to stop staring, and each time he says, "Oh sorry, forgot again." I don't think he means to do it, he just can't help it. I have to admit it's flattering to be the object of such avid attention, and I guess that's part of what makes me uncomfortable. While he's staring, I feel myself breathing deeper and my nipples get erect.

He keeps asking when we can do it again. I told him we didn't do anything, it was just an anatomy lesson, and now it's over.

March 20 Dave asked me yesterday to tell him more about what it was like when he was nursing. I told him that although it was very nice, sometimes he sucked too hard and it hurt, so I had to switch him to the other nipple, and that afterwards the milk dribbled down his chin, and I had to wipe it off. I told him about wearing a nursing bra, and he asked me if I still had it, he wanted to see it. I told him I didn't have it anymore, I'd given to my sister when she'd had her first baby, so his cousin had got to use it.

He said he really needed to nurse like that again, and this time he wouldn't suck so hard. I told him no, nursing is for babies and he was too old for that.

I hope this settles the issue.

March 22 Last night Dave asked again to see my breasts and nurse. When I told him no, he started crying. I tried to explain that big boys don't nurse their mothers anymore. But it didn't do any good. He was really weeping, totally miserable. It reminded me of how he'd cried as a baby when he was hungry and as soon as I would slip my nipple into his mouth, he would turn totally content and begin gurgling. I knew it was in my power to take his tears away and make him happy again.

Maybe I shouldn't have done it, but at the time it felt right. My maternal instincts shut off my brain, and as if sleepwalking, I led him into the living room. I didn't want to do it lying down, so I had him sit beside me on the couch, and I unbuttoned my blouse. He wanted to undo the bra, but I said no and did it myself.

He gasped when he saw them this time. Before I could do anything, he leaned over and put one in his mouth. He started sucking too hard, just like he'd done when he was a baby. I said, "You're hurting me!" and he mumbled "Sorry" and did it softer. His tears stopped instantly, his face became totally happy. I sighed with contentment, and we swooned in bliss together as the peace of that long-ago time settled over us again. I could almost feel milk rising up inside me and flowing into him. He'd been such a dear baby, I'd loved him so much and still did now that he was almost grown. Whatever anybody said, this can't be wrong, I knew.

He was bracing himself with one hand on my leg, and his other hand held my breast, stroking it. The last sniffles from his crying were running onto it from his nose. The warmth and pressure of his hand spread up my thigh, and I realized I was sopping wet. I could see the bulge in his pants, and I have to admit I wanted that.

I thought about how shocked but fascinated I was when he'd gotten erections as a baby while he was nursing me. I thought about when he was handed to me right after birth: the first thing I noticed was his penis, larger than I could have imagined, purplish red and bulbous. I had wanted it, I realized now with a flush of shame, even then.

I was appalled at myself. This won't do. This can't go on. No!

Panting, I pulled the breast out of his mouth. My nipple was hard and his saliva clung to it like milk. The nipple, like him, didn't look at all happy about the sudden separation.

His mouth hung open in dismay. "Wh-what's wrong?" he stammered. "Am I doing it too hard?"

"N-no, dear," I answered, "but that's enough. You did it and now it's enough."

He looked totally crestfallen and disappointed, and I felt like a monster for taking his happiness away from him, but it was either stop now or never.

He said sullenly, "I'll stop, but only if you let me do it again."

"Uh ... we'll talk about it later. Now we need to go to bed." I instantly regretted my choice of words, a true Freudian slip, so I said quickly, "You've got school and I've got work. Goodnight." I kissed him on the cheek, wanting to kiss him on the lips, and left the room.

In my bedroom I fell apart, crying and shaking with shame and desire for him. I couldn't help it. I had to masturbate, and I couldn't help thinking about making love with him, imagining him on me and in me. I had a tremendous orgasm but afterwards cried some more because masturbation is so lonely.

I don't know what's going to happen or how it's going to end. If I let him nurse again, I won't be able to stop. I'm afraid of what might happen if we do go all the way, and afraid of what might happen if we don't.

March 24 I'm still in a quandary, but describing this to you, Dear Diary, is cathartic for me. It externalizes all this a bit and gives me some distance from it so I can think more clearly. Thanks for being here. You're keeping me sane.

Dave has been pestering me to nurse again, and I've been refusing, but today he switched tactics. He said I at least had to keep my promise to show him what girls are like. I said we did that already, but he said that was only half. Now he needed to see the other half. When I told him this whole thing had gone too far, he accused me of breaking my promise and that I had always told him how important it was for people to always keep their promises and here I was breaking mine. He knew exactly what to say to wear me down.

I made him promise not to tell any of his friends or anyone else about this and explained that the police would put us both in jail, and we'd never see each other again. He got the message.

We went into the living room again. I left my blouse on but took off my jeans, then turned around so he could see my legs and bottom. "You have to show me everything," he said, staring at my crotch.

The thought of pulling off my panties in front of him made me really uncomfortable — it's embarrassing to be bare-assed in front of your son. "You don't want to see underneath there," I said lamely. "It's ... ugly."

"You promised you'd show me what girls are like!"

Had I really promised? I didn't know anymore. My head was spinning. I closed my eyes like an ostrich sticking its head into the sand to disappear, then pulled down my underpants. I heard him take a sharp breath and opened my eyes. He was staring at it wide-eyed with the tip of his tongue between his teeth. He came closer and got down on his knees.

I covered it with my hand. "You can't touch it," I said hurriedly.