
Her thoughts turned back to her son, Jack. Would he want to have her again when he returned from the boarding school he attended? And if he wanted her, would she be able to rely upon her good sense and talk him out of it? Or would she give in to her body's desperate hungers and again pull him between her soft thighs? These questions had plagued her ever since she had driven him in to Salt Lake City, where he caught the plane back to school at the end of his vacation. She was now no closer to an answer than she had been when she first asked them. His few letters and the more frequent calls had given no inkling of his thinking about the deed they had shared.
"Ooohh!" Eileen groaned, burying her face in the quilt and shuddering as her fingers worked powerfully against her excited flesh.
The addition of a finger in her asshole, she had discovered a few years ago, added an incredible stimulus to her sex play and greatly added to the violence of her climaxes. She had found a book, one of those cheap paperback novels with a nude voluptuous beauty on the front cover, in a cabin vacated by a guest and had appropriated it. The book, a novel with an improbable setting and even more ludicrous plot, had concerned a young girl who had been anally raped by a gang of motorcycle riders.
