How and when did it begin? Well, on reflection, it began while taking notice of my mom Janice doing housework. This was a few months after dad left. What had for years been mundane, barely on my radar, suddenly became exciting, watching her bend over in a short house dress, or squat down to dust. It pains me to admit this, but I’ve developed a hard-on for my own mother. It disturbs me, instills in me a sense of guilt and shame. Nineteen-year old, handsome guys like me (so I’ve been told) who do okay with the ladies aren’t supposed to harbor erotic designs on their forty-something year old mothers.…