Chapter 6: Beach ... July 3rd and 4th 2011

Mom still put on the wig the next day. And the shades. And the drooping hat. We didn't want recognisable pictures of us to be floating around out there on the Internet. But there was no paint on her body when she slipped out of her clothes at about one o'clock in the afternoon on the nudist beach three miles out of town. There were no spectators that second day. Instead it was nudists only. Almost a thousand other nudists were there besides us.

The bike ride had been more show for the spectators. Performance art. The beach was for us. Us? Yes I was a nudist. I'd known it the second I'd stepped outside the day before. Mom wasn't ready to concede the same thing out loud but we both knew she was too. And as we spent that first day together on the beach she couldn't hide it.

She strode proudly down the beach as I led her, almost prancing as she brazenly displayed herself to the watching crowd.

I'd fucked my mother the night before! Repeatedly. And every single person we passed on the beach that afternoon knew it. They could sense it. Our bodies screamed out the news. Of course they didn't know we were mother and son, instead we were repeatedly greeted by friendly greetings - 'Hi Bonnie, hi Chris'. Everyone seemed to know us.

They all looked at my cock. The women clearly envious of my mother, the men perhaps jealous. They watched mom. Lusted for her. Raped her with their eyes. She loved it!

We didn't discuss what we'd done the night before that day on the beach. We both knew it was still too raw a wound. Instead we talked about what we were seeing in front of us. The nudists. Their reaction to us.

"You guys didn't come to the dance," Fiona complained at one point. She and her husband had just plunked themselves down on the sand next to us. I checked her out. She spread her legs even farther apart when she saw where I was looking.

"I was a little tired," mom started.

Fiona laughed. "Tired? You sounded pretty wide awake when I knocked on your door last night."

Mom blushed. "You knocked on our door?" I asked.

"You probably didn't hear me over all the screaming and shouting," my favourite painter answered. Then she whispered something to her husband. They both laughed. One word from us and they would have followed us anywhere. Mom and I didn't say that word.

I loved all the attention. I loved looking at all the naked women. I loved them looking at me. I loved displaying my mother, showing her to others while knowing only I was going to be fucking her. Every gesture I made that day announced to the watching crowd, 'back off, this is my woman and my woman alone.'

"You had the biggest cock on the beach today." I looked down, seeing mom's tongue flicking over the end of my cockhead.

"No I didn't, it's not really that big," I denied.

"It's almost too big," she added, then slid her lips over the crimson head. For minutes I groaned silently as her tongue and lips slowly brought me towards ejaculation. But then I stopped her before she'd finished me off by pulling her up by the hair.