"SO what if I don't wear a bra?" she asked her reflection. "I'm never going to be a nice girl again."

She walked from her room, her dress swirling about her thighs.

She found her son dressed and in the living room. They seemed unable to look at each other, not yet ready to admit openly what they had done. Peggy didn't mind. She was going to shove her cunt to that peephole as often as she wanted, and let her son fuck her through it. If he didn't want to talk about it openly, she didn't mind. In fact, she felt as if she would be embarrassed to talk about it.

This way, she could pretend nothing happened, that nothing was changed.

But she could pretend only, because it had happened and things had changed. And she wanted it to happen again and again, as often as her son wanted to fuck her.

She picked up a magazine, sitting down on the couch, letting her dress swirl about her long legs. She didn't even care that her knees showed. In fact, she wanted to pull her dress high, expose both her long thighs, perhaps expose her panties. She didn't though. She thumbed through the magazine, thinking how silly she and Joey were acting. They were like two naughty children, she thought with amusement. Two naughty children that had done something both were afraid to speak out loud about.

The longer she sat, fidgeting, the more she wanted her son's cock in her cunt again.

Then Peggy did something else she had never done before.

Thinking a nice girl would never announce such an intention, she said, looking directly at her son: "I have to go to the bathroom."

CHAPTER THREE

Peggy could hardly believe the change that came over her. Once she decided she no longer wanted to be a nice girl, all the stops had been pulled.

"I have to go to the bathroom," she said boldly, looking right at her son, meaningfully.