That much was true; she definitely had sex on her mind, all the time, day and night. But it wasn't nasty. It couldn't be nasty – it felt much too good to be nasty.

Now Laura didn't have a husband.

He became tired of living with a woman that made such perverted demands as wanting to be fucked. He left her, with her son, the house, a car, and a comfortable bank account. She didn't know where he was and couldn't care less. He had been no good to her when married to him, and certainly no good now.

Her freedom had given her the excuse to experience those wild things in her mind, but Laura couldn't bring herself to do so. She was shy, very naive, almost afraid of men. They strutted around and fucked everything, she had observed, but if a woman did the same thing, the man quickly discarded her as a slut, a whore, a nasty person.

She giggled.

Her parents had been shocked when her little brother had suddenly arrived about nineteen years ago. They had been finished with having and raising a child. Laura was the only one they planned to have, and then there was Jason, abruptly. Laura giggled as she thought of her restrictive mother and father fucking. She had never been sure they fucked at all, but she and her young brother were evidence that they had fucked at least two times in their miserable lives.

Jason, her brother, was only a year older than her own son, Sammy.

And since her parents lived within walking distance from her house, the two boys had been very good friends from the beginning.

Maybe her parents didn't pay as much attention to Jason as they had her, because Jason had so much more freedom then she had enjoyed. Jason was a nasty boy, too. Laura had heard him using those exciting words with her son. She had said nothing to her brother about it, nor to Sammy. If those words excited her, then they must excite the boys, she felt. She was not going to be like her mother and father. She allowed Sammy to enjoy himself, and if that meant he played with his cock, good for him!