A Sticky Situation: Cheating Mommy

I've been having problems with my son for a long time now, we've been seeing a psychiatrist for youth counseling. I feel partially responsible for his behavior, I know he got it from me; I have a hard time trying to control my own impulses. I don't try to control my impulses very often, more often I try to hide them, and hiding them means I need to do whatever it takes to lead a separate life. My life that everyone sees is that I am a devoted wife of an intelligent, albeit troubled boy. I work a part time job, my husband works a full time job where he oftentimes leaves me a lot of room to have fun. I should have fun, right? I got pregnant at a very young age and had to be responsible for years, until he was old enough to look after himself for the most part. Most ladies my age have "lived it up," they went to college and dated guys, partied, and then settled down. It's MY turn to live it up. I'm only got a few more years to look young, so why not make memories? I wear a mini skirt when I go out, I tease on the dance floor, and I shamelessly flirt with guys younger than myself. I do it for me. Tonight I was going to go out with a guy I've been flirting with at my office. I carefully selected a tight fitting pencil skirt, in scarlet red, and a white bodysuit with no bra. It's going to be cold in the restaurant and I want him to sit across from me and salivate at my hard little nipples in this nearly transparent white cotton. I slip on my finest jewelry, the gold necklace that my husband bought me for our anniversary. It gave me some pause to wear the necklace, but it really frames my thin clavicle so well; I want to look my best so I'm wearing it. Shameless. I told you I am brave. Watch the story unfold.