The following morning, Janice was almost afraid to face her son.

After he had fucked her so gloriously, she had slipped from his room. Everything had happened without them speaking. She had drawn him to the bed and pulled her gown up, exposed her cunt and drew his cock into it. There had not been a word between them whatsoever.

Pulling her robe about her body in the early morning, she entered the kitchen and prepared coffee. It was still early for her son, and he was sleeping soundly. As she sat drinking her coffee, she could not prevent a smile that appeared on her face. Bobby should sleep good and hard, she thought. It wasn't everyday a boy his age received a blow job and a good fucking from his mother. He was probably exhausted, she felt.

Her mind turned to the man next door and his lovely daughter. They must certainly be frustrated, she thought. Both of them masturbating that way. The man she could understand; she had never seen him with a woman, and he was always at home with his daughter in the evenings. It was obvious to Janice the man was highly sexual. And, so it seemed, was his daughter.

She ran her tongue over her lips as she recalled how her son had gushed into her mouth. Her question of his ability to come had certainly been answered, and answered very well.

When her son came in for breakfast, rubbing his sleepy eyes, he wore the bottom of his pajamas. Janice found her eyes going immediately to the front of them. With a blush, she jerked her eyes away.

"Good morning, Mom," he said, yawning and scratching at his chest.

She replied and watched him slump into a chair across from her. She searched his face carefully.

After a while, Bobby got up and walked to the refrigerator. He poured himself a glass of milk, drinking it down quickly. The refrigerator was behind Janice. She lifted her cup of coffee and started to take a sip.