Chapter 17

Minnie Josset, the exhibitionist, understood men. Well, boys especially. And she knew that if her son, Cal, had been afraid to tell her about his fantasy — jerking off to her — then other boys probably had similar concerns about their own mothers. Wishes, desires, dreams that they were too hesitant to admit.

So, Minnie talked about it to the other four Sunnyside moms, and a new form of communication was born. It would be passed along to future Sunnyside campers, and would soon become the norm.

Each set of new girls, usually on their first day at Sunnyside, would ask a boy, “If you could do anything you wanted with your sexy mama — anything at all, your wildest dream in the world, what would it be?”

Not one of these mothers was surprised to learn that her son had sexual fantasies about her. That was simply the way of the world. But it was sometimes enlightening to learn the specifics. And, in many cases, make his dream come true.

“I’d like to kiss her down there.” Voice dropping to a whisper, “Pussy.”

‘I wanna see her cum. A lot.”

“I’d like to snowball with her. You know, cum?” “Your cum?” “Oh, God, she’d never do that.” So, anybody’s cum?” “Yeah, if she’d let me.”

“Me? I’d like to shoot a video of her.” Big grin, “You know, while she’s naked an’ all.” “Just naked?” “Well, using her fingers so she can, like, cum.”

“I wanna watch her fuck the other boys here. One right after the other.”

“I wanna watch another woman eat her.”

Very few boys admitted that they wanted to fuck their mothers. There were more voyeur-fantasies than physical interactions. And those ranged from French-kissing to handjobs to a hummer.

The conversational practice soon became part of Sausalito lore. At Sunnyside, each mother would eventually learn about her son’s personal fantasy. And, having that secret knowledge, made the process, the adjustment to Sunnyside, easier for many moms.

Much like Minnie had done, they found it easy, and often fun, to surprise their sons.

“Hey, Karl, me and Sophie got a date. Wanna see how fast she can make me cum?”

“You know what, Wally? I always loved necking — usually with another girl. But this morning I’m in the mood for some boy tongue-work.” Wink, “Interested?”

Of considerable interest to Darlene and Missy was what the Little Mr. Sausalito mother/son relationships would be like when they were back home.

At the auditorium, each mom had watched her son jack off in the dressing room. They both had answered intimate sexual questions about each other. And, each mama had deep-kissed her son.

Darlene and Missy didn’t know the details of how their domestic patterns might have shifted, but they were confident of one thing — their relationships would never be the same again.

For the most part, the contest husbands had been, if not supportive, at least accepting of their wife’s little walk on the wild side. It wasn’t as if she’d gone to Sunnyside for a week and fucked a bunch of teenage boys.

No, her onstage excursion had been naughty, no question, but comparatively tame.

Most husbands had some degree of curiosity, ranging from mild to considerable, about what their wives got up to when they were alone with their sons.

And, most husbands were wise enough not to inquire.

Betty Lanier, a 31-year-old contest mother was rather similar to Loraine LeBlanc. Not in appearance — Betty was slender, but had great boobs. However she mirrored Loraine’s practical attitude. Her real-life awareness of what she and Rory had just been through was accurate and frank.

He hadn’t made the final five, but was still obviously pleased that he’d tried. And, especially, that his mother had cheerfully participated.

The next day after the competition, Rory came home from school with one straightforward question. For his age, he was much like his mother — he didn’t beat around the bush.

“I liked it when we kissed. Kin we do that again? Not everyday, but ... like a special treat?”

She smiled at him understandably, “If I’m in the right mood.”

“How can I tell?”

“If you pay attention, you’ll learn.”

The next morning, Tuesday, after his father left for the sawmill, Betty was rinsing dishes at the sink. Rory put his hands on her waist, and turned her to face him. She returned his gaze with mild curiosity.

He, calmly for a 14-year-old, untied her robe and drew it open. She thought, “Hmm,” as he surveyed her body for the first time since the contest.

“Best tits in the contest.”

“I thought so.” Well, Allison Melancon fans might not agree, but Betty did have great boobs.

Reading her correctly, he closed her robe, retied it, and said, “Thanks.”

Later, driving to Annie’s Diner to work the lunch shift, Betty remembered his ‘kiss’ question. It had neither surprised her nor bothered her. His hunger up on the stage had been obvious. The only reason she broke the kiss and backed away so soon was because she could tell he was about to explode.

So, would she allow him to kiss her again? Why not? She had enjoyed it some herself. And knew how massive it was to him. While she had no intention of allowing things to go much further, she certainly wouldn’t mind a little fooling around once in a while.

In fact, that night after the competition, after she had fucked Ronnie, she lay awake gently stroking herself. Reliving those erotic moments in front of the crowd. Mainly, she had enjoyed her own nakedness, being the center of attention.

But, as she neared another small orgasm, she smiled to herself in the dark, and remembered Rory’s hard body pressed against her as his eager tongue probed for hers. Sweet.

Contest boys, being contest boys, gossiped, fantasized, and compared notes on any successes, however minor, they had achieved at home. Since each boy and his mother had seen each other so intimately, things were more casual at most of their homes after the pageant.

Rory Lanier had made one of the bolder moves by untying his mom’s robe. “But the best thing ... she tole me I could kiss her some more. When she’s in mood.”

Stevie Richard said, “When she’s naked?”

“I didn’t push it — one step at a time.”

His friends nodded at his wisdom.

Charlie Bouffant had also taken the initiative, “I waited by her shower with a towel.”

“Oh man!”

“What did she do?”

“She was surprised acourse — stared at me, then jess shrugged.”

“Did you get to touch bare pussy?”

“No, but I got to pat it dry with a towel.”

“Were you naked?”

Charlie winked, “Not this time.”

Three boys had made the same bedtime decision, independent of each other. They began sleeping in the nude. None of the mothers, on early-morning wakeup duty, had protested. So, that became the norm. Boys now began shedding pajamas or underwear at night. Since their mothers also compared notes, they weren’t surprised when their own sons joined the movement.

As Sheila Boudreaux told her friends, “These days, if I don’t see morning wood, it’s almost a surprise.”

“What about his sisters?”

Shrug, “Oh, they check him out some mornings.”

Darlene and Missy were pleased. If a mom had become so inured to seeing her son’s boner, that alone was progress on the home front.

Several of the contest boys had sisters who had been in the auditorium. With a few exceptions, most older sisters were now being friendlier with their brothers. Several boys had seen them in a bra and panties.

It wasn’t their mothers, and they weren’t naked, but it was a lot better than nothing.

Ray-Ray Fontenot had edited all of the Little Mr. Sausalito videos. He sent individual clips of the mom/son interview portion to each mother and her boy.

Comparing notes, the boys realized that seven of them had come up with the same scheme. They somehow convinced their mamas to watch the two and three-minute clips with them.

Most moms didn’t mind. Hell, the entire town had seen her standing there naked taking about her sex life. Which boys she had jerked off. Blowjobs, snowballing cum.

If Junior wanted to relive the experience with her ... no biggie. Besides, Ray-Ray had done such a flattering editorial job with AI that many of the moms liked how good they looked, how sexy.

These contest mothers hadn’t been blessed with some magic rejuvenation pill, but they had been reawakened. Forgotten memories of more carefree times resurfaced. The positive feedback from friends and strangers reinforced their new perception of themselves.

So, yeah, life was more relaxed, less buttoned down at home.

Since Nathan Guidry had been so young when his father died, he didn’t have any memories of the man. He eventually became aware that he didn’t have a dad like his friends did, but that didn’t seem to gnaw at him too much. His mother was so attentive, so loving.

He’d had a generally sunny disposition as a baby and toddler. Hadn’t had a bad case of colic, and teething usually went pretty well.

Even though the insurance money had paid off her mortgage, and she didn’t carry any debt, Katie still worked. Mostly part-time — Annie’s Diner, the Piggly-Wiggly, even an occasional babysitting job.

Because she was filling two parental roles, she had always been a hands-on mother. She took the time to listen, and when she didn’t know the answer to this question or that one, she told Nathan so.

As she bathed him over the years, of course she noticed the discrepancy between his petite torso and the length of his penis. It looked like he was extremely well-endowed.

Now Katie hadn’t been with all that many men, but she knew that Nathan’s penis was just average in length. Maybe a tad longer. But the optical illusion still amused her.

When it was just the two of them at home, she mostly forgot how petite she and her son were. But when company came, she was reminded again and again of their small stature. Even the two little girls who babysat for her were taller than Katie.

While Nathan was as inquisitive as most kids, he was a thoughtful boy too. Their discussions didn’t turn to sex very often, but when they did, she was straightforward with him.

Wet dreams, erections, penis size ... all the usual stuff.

They, like so many Sausalito families watched the various beauty pageants that Darlene put on and Ray-Ray streamed. Nathan, like almost every boy, was fascinated by all the nudity. But he was especially enthralled by the Little Mr. Sausalito competition, and asked, “Mama, can I enter it?”

She smiled at his youthful enthusiasm, “I’ll think about it, honey.”

These days, after he had won the coveted crown, they had more visitors than ever. Even though they had come to see her son, Katie was always gracious. She served juice and snacks in her kitchen as wave after wave of little girls asked questions.

Because Nathan was asked to autograph so many pictures, it wouldn’t have been all that unusual if he got a big head. But, that simply wasn’t his nature.

Katie was especially proud of him during this period. Little girls, usually in batches of four or five raved about his talent. Told him how many times they had watched the clips.

Minnie Couseaux, “It’s so big!”

Lily Roulet, “Like a porn star.”

Karie smiled to herself as her son always set the record straight, “It looks big because I’m small. It’s five and three-quarters inches — just about average.”

The girls would look down at their autographed photo, back at him, back and forth, trying to get their head around the concept.

Lola Richard, “Do you cum? In your mouth?”

“Acourse.”

Karla Mouton, “Do you swallow?”

“Yes, yes I do.”

Vanessa Broussard, “You ever think about snowballing? With your mother?”

Nathan blushed, “Think ... yeah, I think about it.”

Ginny Comeaux turned to Katie and winked, “What about it, Mrs. Guidry? He is Little Mr. Sausalito.”

Katie just smiled.

One mischievous girl, Cindy Melancon, Allison’s daughter, asked, “You ever snowball, Mrs. G? Another boy’s cum?”

The other girls tittered as Katie winked, “Cindy, snowballing a boy’s cum is a little different from snowballing my son’s cum.”

“So have you? With other boys?”

After her stage performance, Katie saw no reason to become suddenly discreet in front of the little girls. She spoke calmly, “Back when I was your age, it had become all the rage.” She could have added, “Just ask your mother.”

Cindy Melancon nodded with the secure knowledge of a newly-minted 14-year-old girl, “When I start sucking Jeffery, I’ll snowball with him.”

The girls around the table nodded — the concept had obviously been discussed, dissected, and voted on unanimously.

But Cindy was persistent, “Look, Mrs. G.” She laid out her argument like an attorney in court. “Natan kin suck himself off. An’ you tongue-kissed him up on the stage. For a long time.”

Ginny jumped in, “So what’s the big deal? I mean, it’s jess cum.”

Katie laughed, “Well, counselors, I will have to take that one under advisement.”

Cindy, “But you might?” Then she felt the need to explain her interest, “See, Chuckie ... he’s almost 15, an’ he’s after Mama to snowball practically every day. Well, when Papa isn’t home. An’ me, I agree with the little fucker. He tole me Mama had her tongue halfway down his throat in the auditorium. Almost made him cum, jess from kissing.”

Karla nodded, “An’ Mrs. Melancon ... well, she was really turned on from kissing him.”

Vanessa agreed, “Yeah, we were all talking about that. She was flushed and her nipples were hard. She looked like she was about to cum right there on the stage.”

Ginny nodded vigorously, “That would have been awesome. If Chuckie had known a little more, I bet he could have made her cum.”

Vanessa frowned in concern, “If she doesn’t snowball with him, it might give Chuckie a ... whatjacallit...”

Karla, “A complex. Might fuck him up. For life.”

Katie smiled at the earnest youngsters, “Maybe she doesn’t want to snowball because of that. She doesn’t want her own son to make her cum.”

Cindy, the boldest one, said, “Well, that’s just fucking silly. Mama gets like real needy — especially when Papa’s on the road. So what if Chuckie’s her son? We all saw her — pulling him into her body.”

Karla, “She spread her legs like she wanted it.” She nodded to herself, “Mrs. Melancon is HOT.”

Cindy knew, but didn’t rat her mother out, that she watched that kissing clip over and over. She had told her daughter, “I don’t care that it’s fucking Chuckie — I jess love the way I look.”