Chapter 2

I meant to get up early the next morning to hear the explanation I had failed to get the night before, not just why Mom had decided not to go on the trip but specifically what role I had played in the excuse. Mom had said she wasn’t going because of me due to a problem I supposedly had, and then everyone had treated me like some kind of leper.

I had hoped to corner Dad to find out what was going on but he was still out like a light even though it was late morning and I couldn’t rouse him. As I descended the stairs, I heard Mom singing to herself. Turning into the kitchen, I caught her just as she was zipping up her backpack. She was wearing yet another body-hugging running suit, this time, a shimmery green outfit.

“Good morning, Rick. Isn’t it beautiful out today?” Mom flung her arm in a sweeping gesture toward the back window. “Another gorgeous day.”

I was a little surprised that Mom wasn’t hung over. She hadn’t consumed as much as the others but she had certainly had much more than me.

“Uh, yeah, it sure is,” I mumbled. “Say, can I talk to you for a minute?”

“Talk? Sure, you can talk to me anytime you want, sweetie, but you’ll have to do it on the run.” Mom picked up the backpack and brushed past me.

“Uh, Mom. It will only take a minute,” I cried, rushing to catch up to her but she was already at the door and had opened it.

“Ok,” she answered. “You can tell me on the way to the lake.” She was out the door and heading across the grass to the road.

“Wait ... Mom, wait,” I yelled, scrambling to get my running shoes on, but she kept going.

I got my runners on and stumbled through onto the grass, half turning when I realized I hadn’t shut the door and was only wearing my pajama bottoms but, looking at Mom’s retreating figure, I ran after her.

“Mom! Wait up.”

She ignored me and continued at a brisk pace. I didn’t catch up to her until she was fifty feet down the trail to the lake. I tried talking to her but her pace was too quick and I gave up. I was sure she would stop at the viewpoint on the hill down before the end of the lake where the secret path departed for the platform. She wouldn’t want me following along unless she wasn’t going there. I plodded after her in silence, several times having to speed up to avoid being left behind.

Sure enough, Mom veered off the trail to the viewpoint. She didn’t sit down on the bench positioned there to take advantage of the view over the lake but she stood behind it, her hands resting on the back of the seat. I joined her and stood looking out over the lake.

“Beautiful isn’t it?” she said.

“Yes, it certainly is,” I agreed.

“We should come here more often. It’s so much better than the world out there.”

“It is,” I concurred.

Mom started to leave. Panicked that I wouldn’t find out what had happened last night, I grasped her shoulder.

“Mom, about last night.”

Mom smiled reassuringly. “I’ll tell you later. Come on,” she said, pulling away from me, “I want to show you something.”

She was ten feet away before I could think of something to say, other than ‘Wait’ which she ignored. I ran after her. I was afraid she was going to show me the platform. What else could she show me here that I didn’t already know about?

I didn’t want her to show me. I preferred that she didn’t know that I knew about it. Somehow, that made it easier for me to spy on her. If she showed me, I’d feel guilty watching her.

Damn it! Mom had stopped at the end of the lake and turned off the trail.

“Come on Rick,” she gushed, her voice excited. “Follow me.”

Reluctantly, I followed Mom as she ducked under the brush and then threaded her way between the mossy rocks. This time, she waited for me to catch up. At the fork in the trail, she turned right toward the platform but paused to point up the other path.

“That leads up to an incredible view over the lake. You can see everything from up there,” she said, emphasizing ‘everything’. My face went red but, thankfully, Mom was already heading down the heavily wooded path. Less than two minutes later, we burst into the open. The platform was before us. Mom stepped aside, extending her arm toward it.

“Ta da,” she exclaimed.

I tried to look really surprised. I’m sure I overdid it but Mom didn’t pick up on it.

“I know,” she said in response to my exhortations of wonder. “Isn’t it marvelous? To think it’s been here all along and nobody knows about it. I’ve been coming here for months and I’ve never seen anyone else here, or any evidence that anyone’s been here. Come on,” she laughed, and ran to the platform. I followed, a sense of dread engulfing me. I sensed that my clandestine observations had come to an end.

Mom had set her backpack down and was standing on the platform, looking over the lake. She turned to call me to hurry me up but voices from people passing by on the trail below choked the words in her throat and she simply beckoned with her hand. I stood beside Mom and she slipped her arm around my waist, leaning her head against my shoulder.

“It’s simply gorgeous,” she gushed. I nodded and Mom added, “I wanted to share this with you.”

I suddenly felt cheap about my furtive spying and disgusting hilltop masturbation. My legs felt weak and I sat down. Mom kept looking at the lake for a minute or so, then she opened her backpack and pulled out a blanket wide enough for two instead of the big towel I knew so well. She told me to move aside while she spread it out, then sat down upon it, sitting in her usual position with knees pulled up and arms clasped around them. I leaned back and braced myself on outstretched hands.

I was no longer interested in querying Mom about what she had said to get out of going on the trip. I didn’t care, I was just glad she was staying. Here, in this place, I was sure my thoughts the previous night about suggestion had played a role. Whatever excuse she used was just that, a convenient excuse.

I was more concerned about what I could do to make up for my previous indiscretions. I vowed to find a way while Dad was gone. Mom deserved better than she got from Dad, and me. I fell back on the platform and covered my eyes with my arms, the way I had watched Mom do. She wanted to share this experience with me and I wanted to do that the way she did.

The sun warmed my face. It was almost noon and it was already hot enough to tan. I pictured Mom, lying on the platform, her top removed and her tiny bikini bottom barely covering her treasure. Suddenly, it was whisked away and her light brown covering was throbbing in my face. I shook my head violently and opened my eyes. Mom was still sitting with her back to me and her hands around her knees. I shook my head again and laid it back on the platform, closing my eyes once again.

Time passed, but probably only a few minutes. Except for the occasional tweet of a bird, the forest was silent. I heard the silky rustle of Mom’s running suit and opened my eyes in time to catch her slipping the jacket off her right arm. She deposited it beside her pack and then leaned back until she was settled on the platform beside me. I closed my eyes but opened them a crack when I heard the rustle of her clothes again. Mom had arched her back to lift her bum up and was pushing the running pants down her thighs. She sat up and whisked them over her knees and off her feet. I closed my eyes, warmed by Mom’s presence lying next to me in her bikini, the little one with the ties on the sides. The sun was hot on my face and it felt like the world was standing still. Everything was as it should be.

A cricket chattered and a squirrel and a bird responded at the same time. More crickets rose up in support of their friend, encouraging additional birds to join the chorus, but the squirrel remained alone. It was hot and I was reminded of a scene I had seen in an old movie, The Bridge on the River Kwai, when captured British officers were left standing all day in the murderous Burmese sun. It felt like I was living in a dream and my real life was far away.

I turned my head toward Mom and opened my eyes a slit. She was resting in her regular repose with her arms curled over her face. I lifted up slightly and looked down Mom’s tanned body, over her breasts and tummy to the intriguing knoll nestled between her hip bones and covered only by a triangular patch of bikini. I stared hard, first at the puffy rise and then into the dips next door just inside Mom’s hips where the bikini cords stretched taut from pelvic bones until they landed on the pout of her tummy. The little patch of material was pressed so tightly against Mom’s skin I witnessed several trembles, in reaction to what? I fell back to the platform and closed my eyes, picturing what hid underneath, my hand straying down to cover the rise in my shorts.

Like an exploded photograph, details leapt from my recent memory of the zoomed-in binoculars as I had stared at Mom’s pussy after she bared it to the sun. Wisps of light brown pubic hair tossed carelessly this way and that, lightly blowing in an imaginary breeze. I licked my lips with a dry tongue. Crickets whistled. I wasn’t sure if they were real or from the memory of the movie but they seemed angry with me.

I was startled when Mom’s hand bumped my shoulder. I opened my eyes but quickly shut them again. Mom had sat up and was removing her top. I tried not to breathe lest she change her mind, ludicrously trying to conceal my presence. I waited a full minute after she was quiet before cautiously opening my eyes.

Magnificent. Mom had completely removed her top and my eyes were greeted with her bare breasts, lighter where the top had been, but only barely. Her areole were capped by wondrous nipples, perhaps half an inch or more tall and about as wide. I struggled to control my breathing as I stared at them. I wanted to get up so I could look down upon those gorgeous orbs but knew I couldn’t. I was afraid to disturb Mom in case she realized what she’d done and put her top back on. I pictured licking her breasts and gently sucking a nipple into my mouth. The squirrel chattered loudly as if to chasten me. I closed my eyes.

The squirrel continued and was soon joined in his nattering by a colleague. Perhaps they sensed my thoughts. My lips were moving as my dream about sucking Mom’s nipples continued. I pictured her pussy. It was covered by the bikini again but literally throbbed under the material. I formed a mental command, Take it off.

Yes, take it off, the squirrels chimed in, suddenly changing sides.

Release it! I urged, my lips munching on Mom’s imaginary nipple.

The platform creaked and I opened my eyes to see what was happening. Mom’s arms were by her sides but her eyes were still closed. Her fingers were fiddling and I almost cried out in glee when I saw what they were up to: untying the bow at the side of her bikini!

Forgetting that Mom could open her eyes at any moment, I actually lifted my head to watch as Mom lifted the little triangular patch and dragged it up between her legs. It gave a struggle and the material stretched until Mom lifted her bum. It yielded with a snap. The hand closest to me dropped its string while the other pulled it away and deposited the bikini on the platform. Mom’s arms slowly lowered to curl over her face, covering her eyes again.

I got up onto my elbow as quietly as I could and stared at Mom’s newly bared pubic thatch. It was mashed down in places but the center was pulled up in a mini-Mohawk. It seemed darker there and I leaned closer to confirm my suspicion that it was because her slit lay underneath the wispy ridge. Mom’s pelvic mound looked like a painting, everything rigid and fixed except for a tremble in her tummy so tiny it didn’t even disturb the little Mohawk. I wished for a breeze and, magically, a gentle puff of wind suddenly brushed past the tuft of heathery hair.

“You should take your clothes off, or you’ll get a farmer’s tan,” Mom offered quiet advice.

I jerked my head back and my face immediately blazed crimson. Mom had caught me red-handed staring at her pussy! I started to stammer a defense but then realized that her arms still covered her face. She hadn’t seen me. She didn’t know I had been looking.

Relieved, I pulled my t-shirt over my head and tossed it beside me. I leaned forward to take my running shoes off and had the left one done before I felt the impact of Mom’s words. She had just asked me to take off my clothes. Surely, she knew I would have to lean forward, next to her nude body, so it must be ok by her for me to look. I couldn’t quite believe it yet I turned and leisurely dragged my eyes up and down Mom’s body, lingering on her tits and pussy, checking that her eyes were still covered, then back to her tits and pussy, and down her long, shapely legs, past the ankle bracelet to her bare feet and their painted toes. Fucking great!

I yanked my right shoe off and quickly shoved my pajamas down my legs. Christ, I had forgotten that I’d run out of the house in my pajamas. I was naked. Oh well, Mom was naked too, wasn’t she? I leaned back on one elbow and resumed my examination of Mom’s body, especially her pussy. Everything was wonderful but that was especially intriguing.

Involuntarily, I stretched my free hand towards it, catching myself when my wrist brushed past my wayward boner. Shit! I wished I had put on shorts and underwear before running after Mom. I could have kept my underwear on. If Mom opened her eyes now ... oh shit. I refocused on Mom’s pussy. Her legs seemed to have spread open a bit, or something had happened to make her pussy lips more evident, showing just a hint of her slit. As I stared, the birds began to sing.

Mom’s pussy seemed to pulse, like it did when I had stared at it through the binoculars, wishing for it to do so. I quickly looked at Mom’s face but it was still covered. Her breasts had swollen in the sun and her nipples now seemed longer, though no wider. I leaned closer to look. Yes, definitely longer than half an inch now. My lips moved again but I managed not to drop them onto Mom’s tits.

I swiveled back to her pussy, lifting myself off my elbow to get a better look. Bending near, I smelled her heavy, musky aroma. I waved my hand over her hair and the Mohawk tuft seemed to follow it back and forth. Mom’s legs opened, very slowly, and a pinkish slit appeared like a fissure during an earthquake.

“You can touch it if you want,” Mom said.

I jerked my head back and snapped my face toward her. Mom’s arms still covered her eyes. All I could see was her mouth. Had I imagined her permission?

“Go ahead,” she said. “I know you want to.”

I couldn’t move, just physically couldn’t move. I wasn’t sure if Mom was actually speaking or if I was dreaming. I had definitely heard the words but couldn’t remember if her lips had moved. I stared at Mom’s magical, inviting pussy. I yearned to feel it. Was I just hearing what I wanted to hear?

Mom’s thighs parted and her pubic hair pulled apart. Her pelvis lifted, pushing her treasure upward. I checked Mom’s face again. This time, her lips moved.

“I know it was you up there.”

A sharp, hot stone dropped through my throat and into my stomach. The squirrels renewed their furious chatter. I could hardly breathe. She knew! Shame drenched me. Did she know I had whacked off as I watched her? I shook my head, denying it, trying to clear my mind. No, she couldn’t have seen, but ... she probably knew I had.

My God. A thought ricocheted through my skull. Mom had pleasured herself in front of me. She had stretched and spread her legs, touched her tits, even pushed her fingers inside her cunt. And, the whole time, she knew I was up there. My head was ringing.

“Touch it,” Mom whispered.

I stared at her pussy. My hand stretched out, almost there, hovering, closing in. My fingers trembled.

“Just remember, it’s me you’re touching, not a thing.”

I turned back to acknowledge the instruction from her covered face but Mom’s arms had lifted and her head was tipped forward, eyes open and intense.

“Touch me, Richard,” she whispered.

Richard. She only called me that when she was mad at me, but she wasn’t mad now. She needed me, I could see that, almost as much as I needed her. We were alone, in this forest, on this magical platform in our own secret world. No one else mattered. Nothing existed except for Mom’s naked body stretched before me and our desire, our want, our need.

“Touch me, Richard,” she repeated.

I didn’t have to look to know she was urging her pussy up toward my hand. Richard, she said, not Rick. A man’s name.

My fingertips floated onto Mom’s soft pussy hair, pressing it down and brushing it around in a small circle. Mom let her head fall back and her arms covered her face again. I twisted my hand around and cupped her pussy, pushing down between her legs and then bringing my palm up to press on her mound. Mom expelled a long sigh.

I pulled my hand up a little higher, enough to let my longest finger find and settle into the groove atop Mom’s legs. I leaned forward and kissed her tummy, just below her navel, slipped my tongue out and dragged it up until the tip sank into the hole. Mom sighed as I swirled the tip of my tongue inside her navel, then dragged it up between her breasts, licking the side of one. There, I satisfied my long held wish and moved my mouth over her right breast, dropping it over her nipple and sucking it into my mouth.

“Ohhhh, yes,” Mom whispered.

I sucked harder and Mom encouraged me with womanly sounds such as I had never heard. I was, after all, a virgin. I wasn’t sure exactly what to do but relied upon my hours and hours of late night viewing of internet porn, my headphones firmly fixed on one ear but half off the other to listen for the danger of approaching footsteps nearing my room.

Apparently, I had been a good student because Mom seemed to enjoy the way I sucked her nipples and the press of my fingertip seemed most welcome in her moist slit. I wanted to shove my fingers in hard, like I’d seen sluts on the web enjoy so much, but Mom’s instruction to remember it was her I was touching held me back. She must know how limited my experience was, and with that simple guidance, imbued me with a basic but acceptable skill. Gentle does it.

I worked my fingertip inside Mom’s slit very slowly, a little bit at a time, always drawing out after a brief insertion to rub around the outside of her slit and even in broader circles around the edge of her mound. That’s how I discovered a spot above her slit that seemed to be particularly sensitive. I wanted to dwell there but the call of her slit pulled me away. The crickets, birds and squirrels were now conducting a symphony but I barely heard them.

I dragged my face from Mom’s tits, trailing my tongue across her tummy to her navel and then below. Soon, my tongue was teasing around that sensitive spot while my fingers, now deep inside, curled and straightened, curled and straightened, again and again, inside Mom’s cunt. I pulled my fingers out and teasingly caressed the inside of her long thighs, all the way to her knees, then slowly scratched my way back.

Arriving, I flicked my fingertips sideways at the entrance, tweaking her lower lips and mocking her need, evident by the lift of her hips as she tried to lodge my fingertips back inside her. Instead, I lowered my hand to her knees again while she moaned in complaint, mumbling, “Oh my God,” several times.

Returning to the breach, I surprised myself and Mom by lowering my mouth and plunging my tongue deep inside her cunt. Mom’s hands clutched my head, urging it even deeper and moving it to places she was too impatient for me to discover on my own. I offered no resistance to her steerage and concentrated instead on flicking my tongue about, at first in a measured fashion but then randomly because the surprise seemed to please her more. I kept my head between Mom’s legs—or more correctly, didn’t try to pull it away—until Mom suddenly bucked her hips into the air and humped my face for a full thirty seconds, then slumped back only to shove into my face several more times with spastic jerks of her hips. Finally, she was still, almost.

“My God, that was incredible,” Mom murmured, her face still covered by her arms.

I sat up, my face slick with her juice, and surveyed her body, still writhing slowly on the blanket in response to sensations emanating from within. After a minute or so, her legs relaxed and she slowly spread them apart. I looked at Mom but her face was still covered. Nevertheless, this was an invitation I wasn’t going to pass by. I twisted onto my knees and lowered my cock, which felt enormous and very hard, down to her waiting pussy.

I braced myself on my elbows, hovering over Mom’s breasts, loving the feel of her hard nipples grazing across my chest as I nudged the tip of my cock into her slit. I wished she would uncover her face so I could see her expression when I pushed inside but she didn’t. I shoved my cock into Mom’s cunt.

Oh, wow! Unfucking believable. My hand was ruined forever. What a feeling! Resistance, glorious, slick resistance ... clinging, sucking, wet and hot. Mom’s head tipped back as I neared my full extent and her arms fell away from her face. She looked almost in pain but I quickly understood that it was joy and I felt proud to be able to make Mom feel that way. I pushed in firmly and Mom’s head lifted, her eyes and mouth opening.

“Kiss me,” she cried, her arms encircling my head.

I kissed Mom, covering her lips with my mouth and plunging my tongue in hers, sparring and twisting around her ever-moving, animated vine. We broke the kiss and I pulled away to look at Mom. Watching her steadily, I pulled my cock out as slowly as I could, then plunged it forcefully back inside. I grunted with the effort and expelled a moan from the sheer ecstasy of the sensations her cunt imparted to my worshipping cock. I loved the way Mom tipped her head back and released an answering moan. I grasped the sides of her face and sunk my tongue into her mouth again, holding her in a long kiss as my cock pumped in and out of her many times.