Kathy Andrews - Camping with mom

She was lost in the oblivion of the ultimate of pleasures. She no longer existed. She lived only for his cock and its searing heat and the consuming passion of her body.

Out and in, his shaft drilled to the hot recesses of her cunt. Out and in, his prick lashed into her ever-greedy pussy. And she came.

She tried to find her voice and tell him of his total control of her body. But she no longer had a voice, nor could she find the words. All she could do was groan, freeing the bestial lust from her throat.

Harder and harder her body shook. Each climactic quake grew in intensity. Higher and higher she rose. Closer and closer she approached the moment when she would be thrown into another universe – a dimension where only pleasure existed.

Inward his ever-moving cock skewered. Outward, his hips leaped, dragging his prick from her contracting cunt. He alone controlled her. He alone ruled this moment in her life.

Quaking in hot swirls from her thighs it came. Like a bursting nebula it exploded within the depths of her loins. She felt her body go rigid beneath her son; then there was only pleasure.

It was a total experience. Each and every cell of her body glowed with white heat. Colors flashed, melting into one another, flaring to burning white. Then back to the spectrum again.

Her voice – she somehow knew she was crying out in sheer delight, yet she could hear nothing, but the whirlwind of passion rushing through her ears. It was magnificent. It was the complete consummation by pleasure. It ached, it hurt – so wonderfully.

She soared there for an eternity. Then she slowly returned to the reality of the world around her. She felt her son still moving within the quaking depths of her cunt. She felt the weight of his young body pinning her to the floor of the tent. She was aware of her hips bucking and thrusting to meet each pistoning plunge of his prick.

Her need sated for the moment, she turned attention to fulfilling his. Politely, she ran a hand down between the sweating, slick cores of their bodies. Thoughtfully, her fingers found his ball sac. The weighty rocks within that wrinkled bag jerked and twitched at her intimate caress. Upward they rose, trying to escape into the security of his testicle sac.

Still she persisted. Her fingertips taunted and toyed with the kidney-shaped stones. She fondled them, knowing that as she did, she stirred the flaming needs of her son's groin.

At the same time, she extended a finger upward, lightly touching the spearing pole of his cock. The results were explosive. When her finger tapped at his prick, feeling its length, slickened with the juices of her own body, her son shuddered.

"Ahhhhhh," he groaned, his hips lurching forward with urgency. "Damn, oh, sweet God!"

Deeply entrenched within the caressing channel of her pussy, the swollen head of his cock jerked and twitched. Outward, from the slitted mouth of his glans, the creamy jets of his lust spurted.

She held him. She clung to his young body while he spewed forth the seed of his loins. She clutched him, delighting in the trembling pleasure rushing through him.

His pelvis twitched as he seemed to try and work his cock even deeper into the hot luxury of her cunt. She arched her hips upward, attempting to open herself for him. She sighed as she felt the fountains of come blast into her. This man, this woman-pleasing man was her son and she gratefully received the seed of his body.

Then as the quaking trembles of his lust-sated flesh subsided, she just held him, reveling in the complete fulfillment of their carnal union.

Mona's leadened eyes opened. Above her was the top of the tent.

She smiled, remembering. She glanced beside her. Phil was still there. His eyes were closed and his young chest rose and fell gently. He was asleep.

The last thing she remembered was just lying there beneath her son, basking in the feel of their bodies so closely pressed together. Then?

She wasn't sure. She must have drifted off in the total relaxation that had suffused through her body after their love making. It had been good, so wonderfully good.

Again, she looked at her son. An impish urge to reach out and fondle the sleeping hose of his penis rushed through her. She resisted the impulse, letting her son sleep.

Closing her eyes, she listened. From outside came the sound of birds singing in the woods. But she couldn't hear anyone moving around in the camp. It was almost noon. Where was everybody? Even if Jason and Liz had slept late, Frank was always an early riser.

Frank!

Memories flooded back into her mind. The hollow ache returned. But somehow it seemed more dulled than before. She smiled to herself. Perhaps in a week or two, it would be completely gone. She knew she would always have memories of Frank, a few good, mostly bad. But that was as it should be. To forget the hurt and the pain, that was the way it was supposed to be too.

She glanced across the tent to her unfinished packing chore. Sooner or later, she would have to rise and complete the task and start back home.

Home? She shook her head. There was no home waiting for her now. If she knew Frank, she would find all her things waiting for her on the front porch, as would Phil and Karen. Suddenly, she felt sorry for her stepdaughter. The girl had probably been hurt more by Frank than she had. But Karen was a strong girl; she would get over her father's rejection sooner or later. And she would find a man to love her – perhaps even Bret. Who knew what waited in the future.

Home?

Her thoughts returned to the house. And that's exactly what it had been to her, a house not a home. She could get a motel room for herself and Phil, and of course, Karen, when she got back to the city. It shouldn't take too long to find a suitable apartment for her family. Thank God, she hadn't listened to Frank and quit her job. She shuddered at the thought of trying to locate a decent job during these rough times. They wouldn't have the money they had with Frank's salary, but she made enough for them to live comfortably. And there was the money she had tucked away for Phil's college expenses. Perhaps if her son and stepdaughter got part-time jobs, she could stretch that savings account to cover both their expenses. It would be tight, but not hard.

She smiled to herself again. It didn't look that bad now. All she needed was to think things out. She didn't kid herself. It wouldn't be easy at first, but she could and would make it. She would, of that she was sure. She had done it once before, after Tom's death, and she would do it again.

Divorce, there was no way to get around that. Not that she wanted to. She and Frank had been heading in that direction ever since they had taken their marriage vows. If he hadn't recognized it, she had. Even though she had tried to push it from her mind. Now that she faced that fact, it seemed for the best. There were other men in the world, and she was still an attractive woman. This time, however, she would be cautious and make damn sure she knew exactly what type of man she was getting involved with. And if that meant sleeping around a bit, again that seemed for the best – perhaps even fun!

But what about Phil?

She looked over at her sleeping son. She wasn't sure about that. Something new stirred in her breast when she gazed on him now. Yes, she was still his mother, but there was more than just motherly love. They knew each other's bodies now; there was no way to change that. They had taken each other as lovers. Perhaps it would be only for this day?

She knew it couldn't be forever. Her son was a man now. He had to seek a life and a woman of his own. She couldn't and wouldn't use her body to hold him to her. After all, he was her son. And there were other men in the world; she was going to find them.