Right there, a few feet away from the sleeping kid, Peg slipped her middle finger up her cunt. The familiar feeling of that wet tube stretched around her finger, and the jolts of pleasure that were rising through her, made her shake and shiver with joy. She stirred her finger around in the confines of that narrow passage until she was breathing so hard she was afraid she would wake the poor kid. That would be something; to have the boy wake to see his mother standing over him with her finger up her snatch.

Peg dug deeper up her cunt, massaging the wet

satin lining of that chamber. Her eyes traveled from the boy's face, where Peg looked to see if he was showing any signs of waking, to the bulging prick under the covers. He seemed to be sleeping as deeply as before, so Peg began to feel brave enough to reach out and touch that throbbing cock. She put her drink down on his dresser, took a step toward the bed and reached out.

Lowering her hand ever so slowly, Peg held her breath against the raging lust in her body. When she felt the wool cover touch her fingers, she held her hand still and felt the twitching of the cock as it beat against her. Peg's mind was reeling with the weirdness of this masturbatory session and the thrill of touching the prick that reminded her of her husband's.

The prick was throbbing with such violent jerks that Peg was reminded of the time when fucking had been new to her. The guys she fucked these days were good, but their dongs didn't have the energy and strength of the one right under her hand. Its power made Peg soar to the heights of passion.

Her finger was still diddling her cunt as she felt the action of her son's prick, but she wasn't satisfied. It she hadn't been drinking all night, she might have had the nerve to caress his cock, but in her present condition all she was concerned about