Then he recalled that she had asked him not to handle her laundry after he had been running. She sometimes left clothes to drip dry in the bathroom and didn’t want her sweaty and muddy son handling her delicate items. Brett reasoned that this rule probably especially counted for her underwear. He was keenly aware that he had changed out of his running clothes before coming to the bathroom. She had asked him not to traipse about through the house in his muddy gear. He was now left with the dilemma of moving the underwear out of the shower in which case she would realise he had done so. Or he could go back to his room and change into his wet and muddy running shorts again and call her down to come remove the laundry. Both options didn’t seem very satisfactory. The first option was out because he knew it was these type of small things that really annoyed her and he certainly didn’t want to cause her any irritation, however small. The second option was unattractive because he didn’t want to change back into the wet running clothes again. A thought then entered his head that sent an electrifying pulse surging through his body. What if she wants me to call her down while I am naked, he thought. Could that be possible, he asked himself. Maybe she set it up so that I would be forced to be down here naked while she came in to get the underwear. The thought was at once both unbelievable and plausible. It didn’t seem beyond the realms of reason. She had seen him naked through the window that sunny morning, but the important difference was that there had been a very real physical barrier between them. If he called her into the bathroom now, nothing would separate her from his nakedness. It didn’t seem a coincidence either that this just happened to be the time she had asked his father to go pick up a few groceries.
On one occasion Brett had come back from a run and bumped into his mum in the passageway. He had partially undressed from his muddy clothes and was just wearing his running shorts. His mother had been startled at first but then placed her hands on his shoulders and talked to him.
‘I want you to know that I respect your privacy’ she had said. ‘I want you to feel comfortable and relaxed around me.’
‘Thanks mum’ Brett had said shifting his hands across his front. ‘I appreciate that. Privacy is important to me.’
‘That’s good dear, but also…’ she paused momentarily as if thinking how to phrase her words carefully ‘…but also you don’t have to be shy. You are a strapping young man. Any mother would be so proud with such an intelligent and athletic son.’ She ran a finger across his shoulders. She did it incidentally. It was natural. ‘You certainly don’t need to hide.’ She beamed a smile at him. It was a knowing smile. It was also a very naughty smile. ‘I don’t want to embarrass you Brett but speaking as a woman I have every confidence you will make your girlfriends very satisfied one day’. Brett felt his heart beating hard and didn’t trust himself to reply just thinking about what she was referring to. That was probably the most risqué thing he had ever heard his mother say. ‘So I don’t want you to think that you need to hide yourself.’ She looked down his body as she spoke. ‘I am not as prudish as they all make out’. She giggled sweetly. Brett loved to see her laugh. On that day Brett had walked the few steps to the bathroom without daring to look back. He wondered if his mother had watched him walk into the bathroom, he fantasised that she had.