It was a bit strange being out of the house with my mom and simply just being her son. For weeks we had been pretending to be married at times, a necessary ruse to support her real estate business in Canada. But at home in America, we were just mother and son.
When we arrived at the campsite my dad quickly parked and then took off to the lake to get some evening fishing in. My mom and I finished setting up, walking around the campground, paying our fees, getting our firewood. A few times I put my hand in hers, walking several steps before she quickly let go.
“Dylan! Not here. People can’t see us like that. I’m your mom this weekend, not your wife.”
“Old habits are tough to break,” I joked.
Despite the change of roles, I still greatly enjoyed being around my mom in public. She is a ton of fun, and easy on the eyes. She was wearing flip flops and a knee-length casual summer dress. Especially after having my hands on more of her body at the concert, my cock was awakened simply by watching her hips sway under her dress, her round ass stretching the fabric with each step. While I had seen her wear the dress before occasionally, I wondered if she had picked it out just for me.
Her round tits bounced tirelessly under the fabric of her dress, their narrow straps doing little to support them. As we walked down a private trail, I grabbed her hand intentionally, enjoying feeling her touch again.
“Dylan!” she protested again. “We can’t be seen like this, not with your dad around.”
When she tried to pull away her hand, I just held on. Using her other hand, she tried to pry our hands apart, but I was too strong.
“I’m not joking Dylan, let go of my hand!” Her voice sounded so sexy, yelling at me while trying to still whisper, afraid of being overheard.
“Relax, mom. No one can see us,” trying to soften her a bit. “See that big cedar tree down the trail. I’ll let go once we get there, OK?”
“I don’t care that no one can see us!” she protested. “This isn’t about other people right now. This is about you and me. I’m your mother, for pete’s sake. We shouldn’t be holding hands like this!”
I could see a combination of panic and fury in her eyes. I suppose this situation was different. We weren’t on assignment in Canada, play-acting with a purpose. Rather we were mother and son, holding hands as adults, which had my mom’s moral radar going crazy. I glanced down, my eyes moving past her chest heaving up and down, her manicured nails clasped around my own hand. My cock stirred, enjoying the moment, absorbing my mom’s coerced public affection.
Refusing to let go, I took a step forward and said, “C’mon slow poke. Let’s go! Let’s continue our nature walk as friends.”
Finally giving in, she responded to my tug and we resumed walking hand in hand.
“Now that’s what I’m talking about! Just two friends holding hands, enjoying the park,” I playfully commented.
“Don’t forget!” she warned. “Two friends who happen to be related to each other,” the edges of her mouth beginning to curl up, slowly warming up to her son’s banter.
“And related how, you might ask?” I said in my best radio voice. “Who really knows? Maybe they’re siblings? Maybe that’s his mom? Maybe they’re married? Who really knows?”
Julie reached over with her spare hand and whacked her son’s stomach lightly and squeezed his arm. She had to admit that being around him was a lot of fun. He certainly was a good friend. It made her feel young again. Despite her protests, she was glad Dylan kept pushing their friendship in new directions.
As they passed the cedar tree, Dylan felt a slight tug from his mom’s hand, indicating a subtle request to let go. But Dylan held on, convincing his mom to extend their PDA. A few minutes later, they came around a corner and another couple was a few hundred feet ahead, coming their way.
Julie quickly jerked her hand, trying to get out of Dylan’s grasp. But Dylan would not let go. Quickly realizing her son’s perseverance, and becoming panicked over their public display of affection, she pulled him with her behind a nearby tree, out of sight of the oncoming couple.
Still pulling madly to escape his grasp, she said, “Dylan, what are you doing? Let go of me! I’m serious.”
“Oh, now you’re serious?” I said, tickling her with my spare hand.
Giggling uncontrollably, she tried to say sternly, “Yes, I am serious!” Trying to talk while being tickled only made her feel more ridiculous.
“Isn’t this what best friends do? Hide behind trees together?” I said mockingly.
“Not funny Dylan!” my mom replied, smiling while she said it.
“Or are we more than friends, Honey?” I asked.
“I am not your honey!” She looked around the tree, the oncoming couple getting closer.
“Or are you just my mom, needing to spank her very naughty son?” I suggested.
Dylan’s comment gave Julie the idea she needed. She began wacking his bottom with her spare hand, effective in getting him to release his grip. They stumbled back onto the path, like two lovers returning from a tryst in the woods. Just before they passed the couple, Dylan reached for his mom’s hand. Julie instinctively pulled it back from him, embarrassing herself in front of the passing couple.
“You are evil. Simply evil!” she said several steps later, whacking him again on his stomach, her large reluctant smile matching Dylan’s wicked grin.
That night we stayed up late by the campfire, telling stories and joking around. My dad enjoyed a few beers and was in a good mood. He was leering at mom, and it became clear what he wanted.
“Son, why don’t you enjoy the fire a bit longer. After it burns down to coals, you can join us in the camper” my dad announced.
I could hear my parents giggling in the RV, my mom shushing my dad’s semi-drunken lack of volume control. After a while it got quiet, and then I could hear the distinctive sounds of sex. The RV was slowly rocking, and I could hear my dad grunting, still unable to moderate his volume.
I quietly walked over to see if I could peer through the blinds. I saw my mom’s tanned legs spread wide, my dad on top of her in the missionary position, pumping his cock into her. My dad blocked any clear view of my mom’s body. If I was married to my mom, I would definitely be doing her doggy style. My dad was missing out for sure. His thrusting seemed to be increasing in tempo.
I returned to the campfire. I heard a short gasp come from my mom. A moment later I heard my dad provide a loud final groan.
After a few minutes, I could hear the soft snoring announcing that my dad had gone to sleep. The RV door swung open, and my mom came and stood by the fire, the light illuminating her luscious figure. She had on an oversized forest green t-shirt that ended mid-thigh, revealing her toned legs. She crossed her arms under her tits, causing the shirt to ride up a couple more inches. It was obvious she was not wearing a bra; not because her tits were sagging, but by the clear imprint of her nipples.
“Sorry about that,” she said sheepishly, a bit embarrassed at it all.
“No problem mom. Dad’s a lucky guy. Best friends don’t get to do that. Only married people do.”
Standing across the fire, she put her weight on one foot, sticking her hip out, placing her hands on her waist. I wonder if she even understood how provocative she looked at the moment. Was she doing that on purpose? My cock, already alert from their sexual sounds, ached just looking at her.
“Don’t worry, son. You’ll get married someday. She’ll be a lucky girl.”
“Thanks mom. Hopefully I’ll be as lucky as dad.”
The white of my mom’s teeth glistened in the moonlight, an obvious smile greeting the dark.
“Well, goodnight Honey. I had fun with you today. See you in the morning,” my mom said, turning to walk away, almost reluctantly.
I just had to get my hands on her. My body was having withdrawals after our evening concert.
Standing up I whispered, “Mom!” and motioned her over to where I was waiting. Her unsupported tits jostled sensually before my eyes as she quickly tiptoed over.
“I’m sorry about holding your hand so much today,” I apologized. “It’s just, it’s just, well, I had so much fun at the concert. Sometimes it’s hard to remember that you’re still just my mom. It’s fun having a girlfriend for once.”
“Or are we siblings?” she mocked. “Or are we best friends? Or are we more than that? Who really knows?” She said, leaning forward and tickling my waist, always a jokester. Finding my weak spot, my startled body convulsed uncontrollably.
Eventually getting my body under control, I returned the favor, putting my hands on my mom’s narrow waist, digging in my fingers. Her body jumped in immediate distress, propelled into mine, her loose tits flailing around my arms and torso, making contact multiple times.
Julie’s hands were clasped around her son’s wrists, fighting him to be released. Her shirt began riding up, her lower body feeling the draft of the cool air. Soon her white panties were visible to Dylans prying eyes. Feeling exposed all of a sudden, she was not sure what to do. There wasn’t enough space between them for her to slap him, and pushing his chest would do nothing. Her panic increasing, she took one hand, curled it into a ball, and bonked Dylan in the crotch.
Dylan folded over like a newspaper, while Julie grabbed the hem of her shirt and pulled it down.
“Aaaah,” Dylan moaned in pain, finding a seat on the picnic bench, still doubled over.
Julie just stood there, not knowing what to do. Her motherly instincts wanted to propel her to comfort her injured son. Her righteous anger prevented her from apologizing for the pain she inflicted.
“Jeez, Mom! Why’d you do that to me?” Dylan asked moments later, still grimacing in pain.
Julie didn’t know how to respond. Her son was looking up at her, an expectant look on his face.
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