Fawn moved a hand along her thigh, sliding her robe away from her body as Joan watched. Joan noticed she could almost count the pores on that creamy, exciting flesh. As the robe parted, Joan began to moan softly. She was looking directly at the honey-colored curls of Fawn's cunt. Each strand seemed to leap out at her. She began to breathe heavily when Fawn drew her hand up her thigh and toyed with the lip of her cunt. There was something intensely erotic about watching Fawn without the girl realizing she was being seen.

As her cunt started twitching, Joan watched as Fawn parted the pink lips of her cunt and exposed her tiny, but obviously swollen clitoris. Fawn stroked it slowly, spreading her legs widely, her book forgotten now. Joan's eyes were straining with eager pleasure as Fawn slowly dipped a finger into her cunt and moved it back and forth, her rounded hips writhing in self-induced pleasure. The image of Fawn was so sharp and seemed so close, Joan was sure she could hear the soft moans of ecstasy Fawn must surely be making. She could see that wet finger glistening as it went in and out of her pink, hair-rimmed cunt, and could almost hear the moist sounds of it.

As often as Joan had used her own fingers on her pussy, she had not once thought it would be exciting to watch another girl finger-fuck herself. But as she watched, her own cunt was having fits between her thighs, boiling with wet heat. This was the girl who had only this afternoon wantonly teased her son into discharging inside his bathing trunks, and now she was finger-fucking herself with the drapes open. Remembering the things she had heard at the pool, Joan wondered if Fawn was aware that Ted had his telescope trained on her window, and that she finger-fucked herself as another means of teasing him at night.