“OK, I deserved that,” he replied.
“And don’t forget, we just bought a house!” Dylan shouted.
“That’s right!” Dylan’s mom replied, leaning her head onto Dylan’s shoulder.
They drove home to their house in the states, pulling into the driveway just before midnight. The next morning at the breakfast table they told Dylan’s dad Cliff that they had bought an “apartment” in Canada. They explained how Dylan would be moving out and starting true “adulting.” While a bit shocked, Cliff was pleased that his adult son would finally be striking out on his own.
To celebrate, my dad wanted to take all of us out fishing. It was his favorite thing in life and wanted to share it with us. Unfortunately, it was my mom’s least favorite thing to do. I could hear them quietly arguing in the adjacent room.
“Come’on Julie, you never come fishing with me,” criticizing his wife. “A healthy marriage should not have the husband doing one thing and the wife doing another.” Cliff was really piling on the guilt to make his point.
“That’s not fair Cliff!” Julie shouted back. “I don’t get mad at you because you aren’t interested in doing real estate with me! You never accept my invitation to join me to look at houses!”
Dylan was both amused and distraught by their conversation. He rarely heard his parents fight. He had noticed how his mom had recently become a bit less like herself around Cliff. Holding in the secret of her illicit marriage with her son was weighing on her. Dylan was not surprised she was finding it difficult to act natural and authentic around her husband. Still, he knew they loved each other very much.
Their argument about going fishing seemed to be at a stalemate. Finally, Julie’s hope for a healthy resolution prompted her to give in.
“Alright, Cliff. I’ll come fishing with you and Dylan. It will be fun to do something as a family.”
“Thanks, Julie,” Cliff responded, walking over and giving his wife a hug with a grin of triumph on his face. He had won the argument, though he didn’t realize he was losing the battle for his wife’s heart. Later on he would realize the signs he had missed. Even as he held his wife in a loving embrace, he should have recognized the subtle signs her body was giving him. She was more withdrawn and private, receiving his physical affection, but not giving it in return.
As Dylan and his mom approached his dad’s old truck hooked up to his bass boat, the two started arguing about who was going to get stuck riding in the uncomfortable middle seat. They kept pushing each other in front of the other toward the passenger door. Grabbing his mom around the waist, Dylan began to needle her sides, causing squeals of delight and her body to convulse uncontrollably.
Eventually evading his grasp, Julie returned the favor as she grabbed Dylan’s sensitive waistline. Their two bodies were bumping into each other flirtatiously, using the side of the truck as a backstop to push each other against.
Hidden from Cliff busy on the other side of the truck, Julie had her hands on Dylan’s waist, prepared to dig her fingers in at any time. At a disadvantage, Dylan allowed his mom to inch him along the side of the truck toward the passenger door. In protest, Dylan placed both of his hands under her flannel top and grabbed his mom’s ass cheeks.
That stopped Julie in her tracks. It felt like her son’s hand was directly on her skin, her thong providing limited coverage under her tight denim cutoffs. Gaining her composure, she was intent on not letting her son win the battle.
“Nice try, Son. But your tricks have no power over me.” The two stared into each other’s eyes, equally stubborn. Despite her son’s blatant groping, Julie continued inching Dylan toward the passenger door.
Dylan increased his grip on his mom’s round ass, allowing his fingers to dig uncomfortably deep into her crack. Julie’s face exposed her slight discomfort, but also her will to not give in. Both mother and son were giggling with joy, breathless from exertion.
Dylan knew he was allowing himself to lose the battle. So he readjusted his hands, pulling them from his mom’s butt and boldly palming her breasts.
“Dylan!” Julie screamed in hushed tones, not wanting to alert Cliff. Her hands darted on top of her son’s, trying in earnest to pull them off of her.
“Get your hands off of me!” she pleaded. “Your dad is right over there! You shouldn’t be touching me like that!”
Leaning in so that our faces were only inches apart, Dylan whispered, “I’ll let go after you agree to get into the middle seat of the truck!” He squeezed her tits a few times making his point clear.
“No!” she responded. “Your first! You aren’t going to win this one, you jerk!” She countered, playfully.
Pleased by her response, Dylan allowed his hands to squeeze her two round melons further, her flesh beginning to spill out through his fingers. He could feel the outline of her bra beneath her flannel and tank top. As he double-downed on his manipulative abuse of his mom’s physical bubble, her resolve began to weaken. She tried unsuccessfully to pull his hands away.
“Dylan, this isn’t funny!” she stated, becoming frustrated with her son and the wicked smile on his face. “You’re dad is right over there,” she whispered. “He could see us at any time.”
“I don’t care,” Dylan responded. “I don’t want to sit in the middle seat.”
They stared into each other’s eyes, their stubborn wills clashing in a stalemate. The spontaneous competition awakened both of their libidos.
“Plus, my hands like holding your awesome tits,” Dylan declared. His vulgar term for her bosom always offended Julie.
“You guys about ready over there?” Cliff asked from the other side of the truck.
Dylan continued squeezing his mother’s tits, a look of triumph on his face. He knew he would break her soon. He couldn’t believe she had endured his illicit touch for that long. In fact, he was aware that his cock was swelling with pleasure.
The two continued to stare into each other’s eyes, each unwilling to give in. Though only lasting a few moments, a deeper intimacy was growing between them. Their playful game was connecting their mind, body, and soul closer together. The danger of being in Cliff’s presence only added an element of excitement and special ownership to their secret affair.
As Dylan continued caressing his mom’s chest, Julie suddenly squeezed and twisted Dylan’s nipples. Immediately in pain, Dylan dropped his hands and was pushed into the truck ahead of his mother, the obvious loser. As they buckled in, both of them smiled at one other with the special knowledge of their private playful game. They felt like high school sweethearts covertly enjoying each other behind the back of their chaperone Cliff.
As they drove down the road, Dylan at times would adjust the vents at the far end of the dashboard. He would allow his hand to fall in between Julie’s legs, caressing her bare thigh exposed by her tiny jean shorts before bringing it back to his lap. Dylan became more bold with each movement, his hand staying longer and even making contact with her denim-covered crotch.
Both stifling their smiles, at one point Julie whacked her son across the chest in protest. Though her son was acting like a teenager, she was enjoying his playful obnoxious flirtations.
“Everything OK over there?” Cliff asked, unaware of the improper contact going on between his wife and son.
“Owww,” Dylan responded to the strike on his chest. “No, Dad, everything’s not alright. Your wife keeps hitting me. You need to keep her under control.”
Cliff mimicked his wife, whacking his son with his free arm. “Like that?” he teased, the 2 ganging up on Dylan.
The family of 3 continued on their journey, teasing each other with loving remarks and playful punches. Each one of them was feeling good, fully content. Though Dylan and Julie felt something more, something that Cliff had not noticed. They were falling deeper in love with each other.
Soon they were at the boat launch dropping off the boat. Mother and son worked efficiently as a team, securing the boat to the dock, while Cliff parked the truck. By the time he arrived, a line of boats were ready to take his spot.
“Shoot! I was planning on getting worms from the marina store,” Cliff announced in frustration.
After a moment, he asked, “Why don’t the 2 of you go buy a couple dozen and meet me at the secondary dock. It’s just a few hundred yards down the shore. There’s a trail through those trees.”
As Dylan and his mom waited in line at the store, Dylan put his arm around his mom’s waist, pulling her to his side. Julie was immediately uncomfortable, but did not resist. Walking out of the store, he grabbed her hand.
“Dylan, let go! People are watching! We might see somebody we know.”
“Relax, Mom. We won’t see anybody. And aren’t you my wife anyway?”
“Not here! I’m Cliff’s wife!”
Looking around furtively as they walked, Julie pushed the pace to get out of sight of curious eyes. Reaching the secondary dock, Julie wrenched her hand out of her son’s grasp. As she climbed into the boat, her son playfull slapped her ass, Julie’s body shielding her son’s impropriety from his dad. An audible gasp escaped Julie’s mouth, as she looked back knowingly at her son. A stern look of disapproval appeared for a moment, followed by a much lighter secret grin of unintentional consent.
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