She doesn't say.

Your mother's eyes fly open and dart about the room, taking in the room, you, the basket, the calculator, you again, then settling upon the banana you have just dropped.

With a shuddering breath, she sits up and grabs the banana. Then, leaning back, she plunges it into her dripping sex. She moans as she moves it in and out, faster and faster, until she is gripped by a screaming orgasm.

Panting, she falls back, not bothering to dislodge the banana, chest heaving and legs shaking.

After about a minute, her eyes open again and she stares at you.