A glass, some ice cubes and a splash of bourbon completed her task. Returning to the living room, Irene sank gratefully into an easy chair, sipped her...drink and again wondered where her life was going."Damn it, stop feeling sorry for yourself, girl," she muttered. "I need some company, I need to get out. I can't stay here feeling sorry for myself." An idea lit up her eyes and she moved to the phone and dialed."John?" she exclaimed when she heard his voice. "It's Irene. Are you busy? I would. .." Mrs. Pettibone had located Sharon's clitoris. She had the thing between her two fingers. She squeezed the thing a couple of times, slipped her free hand under the girl's rear end and attacked from both sides. She had one long finger scraping in and out of the youngster's pussy slit, and she had one other long finger rubbing in and out of the girl's asshole. "Isn't that better," she asked, "than masturbating that way?" Oh, God yes, Mom," said Sharon. "I mean it's super terrific to have you. More

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