Mom camping with son

“Fuck,” he muttered. “Fuck, Fuck, Fuck!”

The tent was big enough to accommodate them both though, and his mother was sprawled out on a blanket. Her sleeping bag was unzipped on her sleeping mat off to her side, and one of her pillows was there. She always slept with two pillows. Paul figured that he could sleep under her sleeping bag and then explain things in the morning. If she got cold she would just crawl under the blanket, besides, she still had her sweatpants and t-shirt on. He took a deep breath. Everything would be okay.

Despite the calamity, he fell asleep a short while later to the hypnotic sound of the rain, dreaming of Judy Summers.

Sometime in the middle of the night he awoke from an amazing dream, featuring Judy, of course. He didn’t know where he was at first. Everything was pitch-black and someone was snuggled up against him. It was his mother. Somehow he had worked the sleeping bag off of himself and his mother had moved over to cuddle against him in her sleep.

He still had a raging hard on from his dream with Judy and then he noticed something truly horrifying. His mother was naked. He could feel her heavy doughy, breasts against his arm and chest, and her leg was snaked over his. She had one hand on his lower stomach, dangerously close to touching the tip of his throbbing cock. Her head was resting on his shoulder.

He had to admit that it felt amazing to be cuddled up against a real naked woman. It was just too bad that it was his mother.

He had to think. He had to disengage himself from her without waking her. How could he ever explain why he was snuggled against her, naked in her tent in the middle of the night? “Fuck,” he muttered as he slowly pulled away, tying to disentangle from her. As he did so, her hand slid down his stomach and touched his cock. He stopped breathing and froze.

Her breathing hadn’t changed. She was still asleep, he thought. Then she did something astounding and truly terrible. She moved her hand down further and firmly grabbed his cock. “Where you…where you going, baby,” she whispered, as she started to stroke his cock. “So hard for me…mmmm…country air good… doing you good, hunny-buns.”

Paul was paralyzed with fear and horror. He couldn’t move and he couldn’t talk. He could barely breathe. His mother obviously thought she was stroking his father. They had similar builds and she had to still be drunk with as much alcohol as she had consumed just hours ago. Then, thankfully, she pulled away from him.

Paul started to sit up so he could run away to the Volvo, but before he could move, he felt her hot breath on his cock. She had maneuvered around so that her head was in his lap.

“Oh, no,” Paul thought, frozen in place.

“I think baby-cakes found something she likes,” she said, giggling just before sucking his cock into her mouth. “Mmmm,” she purred around his shaft as she bobbed her head on his cock, obscenely drooling all over it.

“Oh… My…God!” Paul groaned a little too loudly. This was the most intense, incredible sensation he had ever felt.