A dark cloud started to cover the full moon and a soft mist of rain began to fall. I knew it was Jonathan’s tears and mine together. I screamed, ‘Why?… Why?…. WHYYYYYY?’ ————- A hand touched my shoulder. Jumping, I turned hoping to see Jonathan again. Mom stood behind me. I looked down to find my clothing in place. Wasn’t I just naked with Jonathan? Instead, I was kneeling with my hands touching Jonathan’s cross. ‘I didn’t mean to startle you Angela.’ ‘What are you doing here Mom?’ ‘I knew when you left tonight that you would come here, so I followed you.’ ‘How long ago was that?’ ‘I left a few minutes after you did, why?’ ‘I saw Jonathan, Mom.’ ‘Honey, that isn’t possible. Jonathan is dead.’ ‘No, I really did!’ ‘I’m glad I followed you now. Come on, let’s go home honey.’ There was no way I could explain this evening, but I knew I had felt him, touched him and made love with him. It was so real, it couldn’t have been my imagination. I stood up and looked around for any signs of what. When I was younger a short slip fit me better. Oh how I love silk, satin and lace touching my skin! Soo sensual! My Mom was full figured and I was a young boy so things didn't fit well. But I didn't care. Often my sister's would fit better or my mother kept a few dresses from her high school years far in the back of a spare closet. I would soon grow into women's clothes of my own.That night, after supper, I snuck upstairs to try on her cloths. I had turned on one of her dresser lamps, very dim soft light. Perfect for the softness I would soon find myself caressed in. I began to rummage through her unmentionables. The bra was first and I fumbled with the clasp and strap adjustments. I cannot recall the color but is was probably white. My mom had mainly white, black, and tan/beige I filled the cups with socks, which is very standard. The bra was quite large and out of proportion on my frame. I clasped it in front on my chest then I slipped each strap over my shoulder. Next came the tan.
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