Chapter 9

When the fateful week ended, Sam and Joey compared notes at lunch.

Eleanor Patterson had put a halt to letting Sam tie her up. She could no longer trust herself to be the mother her son needed for adult guidance. She succumbed too easily to his ropes and shameful acts. She told him how sorry she was for misleading him down a path of perversion and possible self-ruin. Sam took her revelation with aplomb, but privately he swore he would enslave her if it was the last thing he did. He felt that way yesterday. Today, he sighed and ate his sandwich. At least she’d stopped making him do all the house chores.

Joey was pissed off because his mother has stopped letting him punish her. She’d told him, “I may deserve more for the trouble I caused you boys, but I’m in so much pain, I doubt I would learn anything.” Worse, she had let Rudy back into her life, and in her bed. Joey had been listening at their door when his mom told her husband, “I’ll give you hand jobs. Maybe I’ll blow you when I’ve forgiven you a little more. But don’t expect full sex anytime soon. I blamed you too much for what you did. I’m sorry. I can’t help but feel the way I feel. Joey helps me to see you in a better light. He really cares about you.” At that point, Rudy grunted and groaned. Charlene cooed, “Aw, those are my precious little droplets of love. I missed them. They’re so clear and lifeless. You really make me feel so safe, Sweetheart.”

“You’ll fuck her again.” Sam predicted. “My mom let me jack off and cum in her mouth once. Later, I got inside her cunt for a second, but she escaped and grounded me again before I spunked her.”

“So much for making them our sex slaves.” Joey’s original, fervent ambition had been cowed. He could only accept the little victories they had achieved. Sam was right. Joey would fuck his mom again, but it would be her call not his.

“We tried.” Sam sighed. His mother had made him a steak sandwich, but it tasted dry. “We did pretty damn good, even!” He roused.

“We were a lot more successful when we worked together.” Joey mused aloud.

“Yeah, but our moms won’t even let us meet for lunch at school, not that they can stop us.” Sam finished his sandwich.

“What if we got our moms together?”

Rudy Tucker was going bald, not from aging or a genetic trait but from scratching his head over the last few weeks. From the day his wife had banished him to a hotel, she’d changed. He returned to a woman who looked like Charlene but acted like a stranger. At least they were having sex again. Even that had been an ordeal, earning her trust enough to advance their intercourse from manual stimulation to oral. He always did like going down on his wife. Though, occasionally, her pussy tasted musky and rank. When he gently commented on it, suggesting that she might douch, his wife told him that frequent douching damaged the vital flora that protected her reproductive system. She told him, he didn’t have to suck on her puss, but each time he did was another point in his favor. He privately wondered, how many hundreds of points must he earn for them to be a real wife and husband in bed.

“I thought Joe didn’t like camping.” Rudy scratched his head. “I was a boy scout for a few years, I’d be happy to impart my experience to the boy.”

“I wish you could come.” Charlene smiled painfully. She often had a pained expression, especially when she sat down or moved quickly. His wife had been acting like a women 20 years older for the last couple weeks, slow and conservative. She still looked like a bombshell. “But it’s the boy’s first time, and you two never really bonded. You know how rebellious he can get.”

Rudy scratched his head. “He was, but I can’t help but think you’re rewarding the boy for what he did last Wednesday.”

Charlene sighed. “It’s nothing like that, and I’m sorry he scratched those words on your bowling ball. I made him sand them off.”

“But now the ball isn’t perfectly round. I’ll have to buy another.” Remembering the strange sentence made him scratch his head. What did, “One flew under the cuckoo’s radar,” mean?

“Then I’ll cut his allowance to help pay for it. Okay? Now the matter is in the past. Move on Rudy.” Charlene promptly picked up the four man tent and her sleeping bag and headed for the car.

Her husband carried the stove and bags of groceries behind her. “At least let me drive you to the campsite. It may be a holiday weekend, but I might have to go to the office.”

“And if Joey suddenly hates camping, what then? I’m not sure cell phones work in that area.” Charlene sounded exasperated. “The bus is perfectly reliable, most days.” She closed the trunk brimming with camping gear and provisions. Now where was her son?

Joey peeked out his bedroom window. He grinned from ear to ear, watching his step-dad try but fail to join them. Joey rolled up his sleeping bag with things inside that he’d need for a great weekend.

The boy lugged his tool laden sleeping bag to the car. He gave his step-dad a sheepish but understanding frown. “Maybe next time, Rudy.”

His mom drove off leaving her husband to scratch his head on the driveway. “Promise me again, Joey, or I’ll turn around right now.”

“I just want to go camping. I’m not gonna tie you up or anything.”

“Color me suspicious.” Charlene had fond memories of camping with her brother and sisters. Though her dad could be strict, he taught them a lot about nature. Maybe some of those good times would transmit from grandpa to grandson via her. Also, getting away from her clingy husband would be a good break for both of them. Perhaps, after the long weekend, she might feel like having full intercourse with Rudy.

A regional park had been established a hundred years ago, just over the hills. The weather forecast was mixed but mostly sunny. It wasn’t a forested area, but the park had plenty of trees and low vegetation. When they arrived that afternoon, the large parking lot was nearly empty, ten cars at most. Otherwise the campground looked a hundred years old. Parks never get the attention or funding they deserve. She remembered what Joey had told her about this one.

“It’s pretty small, Mom, and the campsites are pretty spread out. Campers have to hike in to reach a site. It’ll be quiet and beautiful, for sure.”

That explained the low attendance. Most campers wanted to park their car and pitch their tent next to it. Or worse they never left their RVs. By the time she and her son had arrived picnic visitors generally departed for the day. There was still plenty of sun, but they would have to make two trips to bring all their stuff to a site.

Their route led them through beautiful stands of oak and aspen, but Joey seemed to be focused on the path. At a fork in the path, he chose. “This way, Mom.” They walked more than a mile, and although the elevation was twice that of the city, the air wasn’t thin. Charlene reminisced about her childhood camping experiences. A hundred years old was a good thing! Fresh air, crickets chirping, the smell of acorns at the end of a sunny day, took the house mom farther away from her troubles than the distance from home.

“This way.” Joey led her down another fork choice. The trees were a little denser and undergrowth grew taller. “It’s just up ahead, um, I’ll bet.” The grove opened abruptly to a pair of campsites separated by a hundred feet and several shrubs. Between the sites, an outhouse and a yard style faucet had been stationed. “The water’s suppose to be really clean!” Joey was excited!

They wouldn’t be alone. Charlene was grateful for the presence of a tent in the farther site. Joey wouldn’t be able to try much, although the idea of a light spanking warmed her loins a little. She didn’t see any people at the tent. Perhaps they were hiking. There must be wonderful trails around the park. The house-mom kept her shape by taking long, quick walks on weekdays.

“I’ll set up the tent, while you fetch more stuff. Then you can arrange camp how you like, and I’ll get the last of our stuff.” Joey could be very reasonable at times.

Charlene enjoyed another stroll to the car and back. She returned carrying the groceries. “There’s just the stove left, Joey. It’s heavy, so take your time. The sun won’t set for another hour.”

“Right, Mom. Oops, just a sec!” Joey grinned and ran to the bushes between the two campsites. Opening his fly he began peeing.

“Joey! The outhouse is right beside you!” Charlene was a little disturbed by her son’s odd act.