Her gaze is drawn to you again, surveying you as you survey the small crowd.Your blouse is a soft white material that just barely hugs your figure, a tapered waist accentuating the soft flare of your hips, and the tiny buttons holding it in place cause her fingers to twitch. If just one more were undone she’d be able to see the bra hugging the soft swell of your breasts. Her eyes watch how the downlights from the bar catch fire in your hair and she wonders if your nipples are as pink as those fiery curls tumbling onto your shoulder's promise.The thought paints a delicious picture in her mind. Your skirt is just a touch too short, catching your long legs at about mid-thigh. She grins, not bothering to hide the heat in her gaze this time. You won’t be able to see it from across the bar. She loves a woman who is confident in her sexuality, flaunting everything that is feminine about her.Your head is turning slowly, eyes scanning the crowd. You seem to be looking for someone and she. Can't stop for breakfast... gotta run!"I watched my son walk by me and faced the empty doorway to the hallway until I heard the back door open and then close. This morning so much like all the others recently.The first chapter of the Manifesto spoke about male adolescence - of growing up as a young man. It never suggested it was easy. In fact, it detailed many things that a young man could be distracted from his path in life. Though written from a woman's perspective, it seemed to understand the complications of every teenage boy's life - which even included my son.[... Your son will be undergoing many changes at this time, changes that he may not even comprehend and you may find bewildering and even frightening... ]Barry had been such a loving and polite child - but when he hit puberty, he had changed. For one, his choice of companions was something to be desired - spending all his free hours with a trio of boys and one girl that skipped school and constantly got into trouble around.
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