It just wasn't fair, she told herself.

Anger grew inside her, anger at her inability to come, anger at being told she was a nice girl. She was so angry, she was about to yank her skirt high, throw her slim legs wide apart, show her hairy cunt to her son. She wanted to reveal her pussy, have him look at it, tell him to fuck her, to make her come. She was ready to beg him – or anyone – on bended knee, to make her come.

And she might have done just that, but Joey had stood up, stretching. She stared at his hips as they jutted out, seeing his cock and balls bulging inside his tight jeans.

"I'm gonna go to bed, Mom," he said. "I'm awfully sleepy."

She saw the slight bulge in his pocket where he had stuffed her panties, and found herself wondering what he was going to do with them. She waited until her son was in his room, and with a girlish giggle, a somewhat lewd giggle, she found a knife in the kitchen and, almost singing with happiness, went to her bathroom.

There she thrust the knife into the hole her son had made, widening it until it was two inches in circumference. She wanted to make it larger, but that was big enough for him to see better, she felt. Pleased with herself, she started down the hall to put the knife away. She stopped near the closed door of her son's room, and with a sudden impulse, pushed it open silently.

Joey was on his back, her panties draped over his face sound asleep already. He lay on top of the sheets his pajamas gaping open. His cock was showing, and Peggy gasped softly as she stared at it. Heat flared between her thighs, and she couldn't resist shoving her hand under her dress and touching her naked cunt.

She felt an overwhelming desire to run into his room, grab his young cock, caress it and make it hard, then stuff it into her cunt. But Peggy resisted this urge, too. It was tiresome resisting the urges that filled her. She stared at his cock for a long time, rubbing at her cunt with a firm palm.