She was on the verge of orgasm but she just couldn't seem to bring herself off. All four fingers were rammed into her up to the third knuckle but it wasn't enough. She needed a cock. That's the only thing which would do her any good. She'd give almost anything to feel a hard cock inside her right now.
"What's the use?" she groaned as her fingers slurped from the heat of her wanting snatch. "This is no good. It just won't do the job."
She suddenly thought of John as she reached for a towel. She couldn't let her son see juices of desire bubbling from her pussy. Maybe he'd forget about wanting to look at her but she doubted it. She wiped the wetness from her legs and pussy as she stood up. She looked at the reflection of her reddened face in the small mirror. It looked sinful and guilty, then she shivered from fright. What would she do if he still wanted to look at her? Could she just stand there and let him look without desiring more attention from him? Her swollen dit suddenly throbbed and ached with desire. Would she dare ask him to touch it with his finger and caress it? She trembled as she remembered the thrill of his young eyes on her nakedness, then a tear slithered down the cheek of the image in the mirror.
What in the goddamned hell was she thinking? What was happening to her moral standards? She wanted a cock and she couldn't help it. Another tear suddenly trickled down the other cheek of the image. She couldn't help needing a cock so. badly, but she could stop thinking about her son this way. Jesus, even her thoughts seemed disgraceful and sinful. She smiled at her image as she told herself she could never stoop low enough to do anything other than let her son look at her. And she'd do that only because she'd led him to believe it was all right.