google-site-verification=rwMt3gYTZgAPfRUI_1mZYG1esRobfBA1bBRbpRc4uOY My loving mother
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My loving mother


Sin for me meant doing something bad to a woman. Theft held no attraction for me. I never longed to own something belonging to someone else. If things depended on me, God needn't have given the Ten commandments, one would have sufficed; Thou shall not commit adultery. This was the only act which I was strongly drawn to contravene I spent my whole life resisting the overwhelming temptation.


Women aren't to be touched or stared at. it was a lesson carved into my mind at a tender age. How had how I been taught these things, God himself couldn't have helped me if I ever disobeyed the prohibition.


Every woman, no matter how young or old, how beautiful or ugly were objects able to bring me to sin and damnation.


Once my parents took my brothers and me for a holiday to Margate. Our hotel was situated virtually on the yellow sands of the beach. Every day I'd walk down the few steps to the delicious white-capped waves breaking gently on the shore. I waded in slowly, each step brought cool water higher, up to my knees, my thighs, my waist, followed by a leap soaking my whole body.


Breakfast was served in a spacious dining room with wide windows facing out onto the Indian Ocean.


I hurriedly ate my fried eggs, cornflakes, and cheese to rush out and play with my new friend, Dries, a one-time wrestling champion, who lifted me up to his shoulders as if I weighed nothing. We played in the sand, erecting magnificent castles.


Once the hotel or some other organization set up a sandcastle building competition. We worked hard for an hour or so until a fairytale edifice met my eyes, with walls, gates, and towers.


We didn't win, but I wasn't disappointed. I was too busy feeling lucky and happy for the first time in my life. I was like a dreamer who had been to heaven and had returned to earth never to forget the wonder he had beheld.


After lunch when my mother relaxed and had finished nursing my baby brother, she was in a euphoria of delight.


My Mother called me to bring her a glass of water. I found her half lying, in an upright position, her back reclining on soft cushions, a fluffy white blanket pulled down below her blouse, which had been opened to lay bare her sumptuous milk-white breasts. were splayed over her chest for all the world to gape at.


A drop of milk still clung to one of her dark thrusting nipples. "Had she deliberately called me to her to give me a pleasure I'd never enjoyed, but she had known I longed for?" "Had the moment of nursing my baby brother brought on a sudden rush of pity for the plight she had put me in soon after my birth?


I didn't allow my hand to stretch out and touch the part of her I had most wanted to. But the sight had sufficed. It was a fraction of a second, but the momentary thrill has nourished my dreams all my life. She hadn't shouted at me to get out, and nor had she punished me for stealing a delicious moment. She hadn't chased me away/ She had accepted my admiration. Perhaps she wouldn't have minded me touching her, but there was no chance of me taking the risk.


She was the most precious diamond one could hope to receive and I was scared of losing her. She never fussed over me when I fell. Her way was to blame me for the fall. I was expected to jump to attention at her slightest command, but always put off doing anything she wanted, until she ranted and raved. Hanging around with my friends I learned all mothers carried on in the same way.


I have fond memories of my mother. I had weak eyesight and was thrilled to be taken to the specialist in Johannesburg, only she and I in the big Pontiac. I was happy to be included with my cousins when she and my aunt took us to see a pantomime at His Majesty's Theatre. When I needed new clothes she'd take me to Dankers or Culhanes to make sure everything fitted. She took me to be tested by a psychologist in an attempt to find out what trade or profession I was best suited for.




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