The day my only son, Shogo, fractured his right hand, I saw him in the living room struggling to unzip his pants with his left hand, awkwardly masturbating. As a mother, my heart was deeply stirred. At his age, he usually enjoys masturbating every day, and seeing him strain like that made me feel incredibly sorry for him. In that moment, the impulse flashed through my mind: "Should I do it for you? Should I help you cum?" Was this merely an expression of maternal instinct, or was something else at play?