It was our first summer without our dad. He passed away of a heart attack last November. We hemmed and hawed for a long time before deciding to continue our annual family camping trip. For over twenty-five years we had spent the first week of August at Lake Wellenchuk as a family. It wasn’t our only family ritual, but it was one we had kept up even as our lives got hectic with college, an almost wedding and the rest of it. So it was with a heavy heart, and only the third time since dad’s funeral that we were all together again (the other two being one Christmas and Kevin, our youngest brother’s high school graduation).
Before I get too carried away about the unbelievable weekend itself, I should tell you a bit about myself, my two younger brothers, and my beautiful mother.
My name is Jackson, although my family calls me Jacks, and I am 26 years old. I am the reliable big brother who has spent much of his life getting my middle brother out of trouble. I was married for three years, but got divorced a month before my dad passed away. They say bad things happen in threes and after the divorce and my father’s death, I kept waiting for the third disaster to hit. Luckily, the third thing was rather small in comparison, a fender bender car accident on New Year’s Eve. Any other year and that would have been a major disaster, but in 2010, it was just a fitting end to one fucked up year. My New Year’s Resolution was to start living life to the fullest, spend more time with my family and meet a woman. I got a loan from the bank and made my dream a reality: I opened an Italian restaurant and named it after Dad— Amelio’s.
My second goal was partly achieved, as I moved back in with my Mother and youngest brother Kevin, although it was difficult getting much quality family time because of the long hours I worked attempting to make my new business a success. My other brother, Adam, had left in January on a six month ‘finding yourself’ trip through Europe and Asia. My last goal had been an undeniable disaster. I had only been on three dates, hadn’t been laid in over a year. Although there were many prospects coming in and out of my life daily, I just didn’t seem to have the time or energy to even attempt a romance. Lastly, I often tended to compare any woman I met with my Mother and that, I have learned, is never a good thing.
Adam was the loose cannon of the group. A wild one from the time he was a toddler, he hadn’t really changed in his wild ways, even at 22 years of age. He took a year off college, dropped out (truthfully he was told to take a year off) and, after Dad died, decided to just travel the world. His goal was to sleep with a girl from every country he visited and, according to his travel blog, he had accomplished that. He returned back just in time for Kevin’s graduation and our trip. He was still exhibiting his usual easy-going attitude.
Kevin, my youngest brother, turned 18 in May and graduated high school with honours in June. He was the geek of the group, a do-gooder who was also a sweetheart to his long time girlfriend Elly. He would rather read than go out, but he greatly idolized Adam, in an almost unhealthy way.
Our Mom Cassie was 45 years old and still in amazingly great shape. She had always worked out and no one believed she had been pregnant three times. Her breasts sagged a bit, but she usually wore outfits and bras that kept them standing at full attention. I would be lying if the majority of my high school wank sessions weren’t about my Mother. But like all guys, fucking their Mother is just a naughty fantasy they jerk off to from the time they learn to jerk off until the day they die. It is who we are. My Mother did pretty well with the life insurance after my Dad’s death and had attempted to keep things as normal as could be.
The first night at the lake was, not surprisingly, emotionally exhausting. We had a campfire and just shared Dad stories. For awhile, seeing my Mother upset, I wondered if this had been a good idea. But the last hour, we shared funny Dad stories and the emotional bubble seemed to burst.
The next afternoon was a scorcher. My Mom, I should note, knows that she still turns heads. For example, the two-piece bikini she was wearing was something the average female teenager looking to get attention would wear. In truth, the minute I saw her come out of her room after lunch in the two- piece, my dick gave her a secret salute.
While at the beach, I noticed many guys, from teenagers to old pervs, checking out my 45 year old mother. I was both proud and protective of her.
The first slight hint of the evening to come, after my brothers went to scope out the chicks playing beach volleyball, was when we laid our towels down on the beautiful soft sand. Mom lay on her towel and asked, “Jacks honey, could you put some lotion on me?”
Dad had always done this in the past, and my dick rose to attention again just with the thought of touching my sexy Mother. I took the lotion, coated my hands and generously and gently lotioned my Mom’s shoulders, neck and back. I then moved down and did her legs and feet.
Once done, Mom asked, her voice seeming just a tad flirty, “Jacks, could you please get really close to my bikini bottom, which is where I always burn?”
My erection begged for attention, so many of my stroke fantasies having started just like this. I put more lotion on my hands, which were slightly trembling, and rubbed lotion on my Mom’s lower back, so low I felt the crevice of her ass cheeks. I thought I heard a moan escape my Mom’s lips, but I assumed it was just wishful thinking. I finished by doing her thighs and again got real close to her prized possession. This time she definitely let out a moan.
“Thank you, Jacks, you have hands just like your father.”
“You’re welcome, Mom,” I said, furtively adjusting my cock in my trunks.
My Mom caught my adjustment and smiled, “Is that because of me?”
I stammered, completely embarrassed, “No, I, um….”
My Mom, her tone soft and sweet, “It’s ok, honey, when Dad lathered me up I often could feel his stiffness on me. I often thought he might just fuck me right then and there.”
“Mom,” I said, shocked by a frankness I had never heard from her.
She just smiled and looked back down and went on sunbathing.
Nothing else remotely interesting happened the rest of the afternoon, but I was greatly distracted. After touching my mom, all I wanted to do was touch her more. All my Mother-fucking fantasies came flooding back and, although it hadn’t occurred to me yet that the fantasy could become reality, my cock was at full mast all day.