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A Night Away From the RV Ch2

A Night Away From the R.V. (Ch. 2)

by The Bald clam
Mom casually tore off a few sheets of toilet paper and

proceeded to wipe herself clean. Even in my tired,

dazed state, I couldn't help but notice the aroma from

the toilet that was spreading throughout the bathroom.

Suddenly nauseous from the smell and the slow

realization of the previous several minutes' acts, I

jumped up from the floor and stumbled towards my

bedroom, leaving my mother sitting on the toilet.

Before entering my room, I took a quick glance at Ed,

still passed out on the couch.



Closing the door and collapsing on my bed, the room

darkened by the night outside, my head started to spin

as I felt my heart pounding hard inside my body. I

didn't even know where to begin to focus my thoughts,

my own world forever changed from the day before. I

lost track of time as synapses sparked throughout me.

Then, jolting me back to my new reality, there was a

knock on my door.

"Uh, yes," I answered nervously.



"Honey," replied my mother from the other side of the

door, "the pizza guy is here and I don't have any

money to pay him." For not the first time that

evening, I was almost flabbergasted by my mom's

ability to cut to the chase, ignoring the more

prominent issues at hand. Nevertheless, I thought,

the pizza guy did indeed need to be paid.

I got up from my bed and walked to the door, my legs

wobbly and my hands shaky as I reached for the

doorknob and opened it up. My mother, dressed once

again, was at the door. She greeted me with a

surprisingly un-insinuating smile, dulled by her

still-glazed eyes. As I passed her, heading towards

the door to my apartment to pay the pizza guy, I

thought perhaps our way of dealing with our earlier

actions would simply be to say nothing of them. After

all, we did not see each other very often and were not

especially close anymore. Yes, I thought, the right

mode of action would be to pretend nothing happened--

say nothing of, well, the blowjob she gave me.

"Seventeen fifty five, man," the awkward young man

with my pizza told me as I approached the door.

Giving him a twenty, "Keep the change," I said. Then,

after handing me the pizza, he walked away, neglecting

to thank me for the tip. On my way back to the living

room, I walked through the kitchen, setting the pizza

on the table. About ready to invite my mother into

the kitchen, I once again noticed her absence. I

looked to the bathroom, but the door was open and the

light turned off; she wasn't in there. Then I looked

to my bedroom. I thought I could see her bare, two

weeks' worth of stubble, slightly plump legs on my

bed. I moved towards my room slowly, nervousness

infiltrating my stomach. As I reached the doorway, I

saw my mother, completely naked, head propped up by a

few pillows with her legs slightly spread and arched.

She just stared at me.

I stood there, in the doorway, for a moment, having

decided conversation was not the strong point of the

relationship my mother and I had with each other. She

was unlike any woman I ever had fantasies about

before. She wasn't anywhere near the supermodels in

my fantasies, or my fianc‚ for that matter. She was

plump--there's no other way to put it--she had some

rolls on her belly and her legs and arms were thick.

And she wasn't exactly clean-looking. She had hairy

armpits, as I had discovered before, and the

aforementioned stubble on her legs and, the most

shocking part, the most massive bush growing around

her cunt, nearly reaching her belly button. The

carpet certainly matched the drapes, as her pubic hair

was graced with the graying hairs that sprinkled her

hair on her head. Though I had caught a glimpse of it

earlier in the bathroom, having her spread out

completely nude on my bed really awakened me to just

how glorious a bush it really was. Yet, again, it

looked as though she maybe hadn't washed for awhile.

The hair, from my vantage point then, looked almost

matted down in places, perhaps courtesy of Ed

adventures to her nether regions. Never did anything

close to resembling my mother's appearance enter my

erotic fantasies, but then, as before, my dick was

hard as a rock.

After what must have been minutes just ogling her

body, my eyes returned to her face where they met with

her eyes once again. Still simply gazing at me, she

finally lowered them to her crotch. As I followed

them, I saw her spread her legs more and then look

back at me. Wordless, she held out her arms to me.

In seconds, I had all of my clothes off again, my

erection jutting out from my body. I walked quickly

to my mother, her arms still outstretched and fell on

to her. As she held me to her, I began to kiss her

lips, her neck, her shoulders, her breasts. I wanted

to enter her very badly but, but the softness of her

body, minus her somewhat scratchy legs, was too much

for me to neglect; I had put my lips and tongue on

every part of her. She responded in moans to various

degrees, but mostly she just caressed the back of my

body as I ventured my way down her own body.

Scooting myself further down the bed and as I neared

her crotch, I, of course, ran into her massive mound

of pubic hair. I ran my nose and mouth through it,

taking in her scent. My previous suspicions about Ed

being responsible for some of the bushy mess were

correct--I distinctly smelled and felt the stiffness

of dry cum in her bush. Instead of being appalled,

though, like my logic told me to be, I became even

more aroused, smelling numerous other aromas, too,

that on any other day would have made me sick.

Running my tongue down the rest of her to her pussy,

it finally entered her which, upon contact, made her

thrust her hips violently upward, nearly making me

bite my own tongue. I lapped aggressively at her

cunt, tasting indescribable juices mixed with urine,

sweat and God knows what else. She became wetter and

wetter by the moment, her juices coating my chin and

cheeks, and continued moaning louder and louder,

slamming my face into her with her hands. Finally,

she came, her spasmodic body and breathing slowing

down to a more restful mode.

As she was catching her breath, I did the same, slowly

licking her bush up and down--almost cat-like--

cleansing her of her own juices and mess. While doing

this, I had a moment of inspiration. Raising my to

look in her eyes, I smiled, as did she. Then I slowly

lifted her legs, my hands grabbing her by the thighs,

and folded them towards her stomach. In that

position, I looked down at her pale, fleshy ass and in

between her somewhat hairy butt cheeks. Taking my

non-verbal cue, she held her own legs to herself and I

dove my face in between her ass cheeks, spreading them

with my hands. There were smells, some reminiscent of

those just an hour or so earlier, but I didn't care.

I felt depraved; there was nothing I wanted to do more

at that time than lick and eat out my own mother's

ass. As my tongue darted in and around her sphincter,

my mother actually screamed, surely waking any

sleeping neighbors, I thought, but apparently not Ed.

Her body shook. For I don't know how long, I was a

mad man, using my oral skills to the best of my

ability to please my mom. Up and down the crevice of

her ass, tasting, surely, her remnant shit and

whatever else may have come out of that orifice.

Finally, exhausted, I let up, her screaming and

shaking coming to an end, and I collapsed at the foot

of the bed.

We were both breathing extremely heavy. In a more

rational state of mind, I got up and closed the

bedroom door, hoping to at least drown out a bit any

future noises that could awaken Ed, though I took a

quick peek at him and wasn't even sure if he was still

alive as he laid there on the couch. I looked at my

mom as I returned to the bed and for the first time

since I saw her naked on my bed, she spoke.

"Fuck me," she said quietly, her voice a bit unsteady

from her still-heavy breathing.

Climbing on top of her, my dick slid into her cunt

nicely. She didn't feel like any of the number of

twenty- or thirty-somethings I had fucked before.

They always felt so fragile under me when I was inside

them. Mom's cunt fit around me so perfectly I nearly

came upon entrance. Having given birth to four kids

and fucked however many guys, I had expected her to be

so loose. She wasn't tight by any means, but she

really knew how to use her cunt, slowly, warmly

milking my cock as I stroked inside of her.

Admittedly tired from my oral services, as surely was

she, we took our fucking nice and slow. I leisurely

kissed her upper body as I rhythmically pumped her, my

hands caressing, alternately, her breasts or her face.

She held on to my ass, pushing me into her,

occasionally slipping one of her fingers in between my

cheeks and into my hole, an incredibly erotic

sensation that nearly triggered an orgasm each time

she did it.

I came twice in her. Momentarily feeling spent after

shooting my wad the first time, my cock deflated in

her, almost plopping out, but her cunt lips grabbed

the head of my cock and refused to let me leave,

quickly encouraging another erection as I slid deep

back into her cum-filled pussy. We must have screwed

in this manner for an hour and a half, a strange,

somehow beautiful, wordless fuck. After I came the

second time, I pulled out of her and laid down next to

her. Holding her plump body to my own, the warmth it

exuded quickly put me to sleep.

I awoke the next morning alone. At first thinking it

had all been a dream, though that theory was quickly

put to rest as the soreness of my dick and the fuck

scent of the room came to my attention. I got out of

bed, putting on a robe and went to the living room.

The only sign of my mom or Ed was the empty beer cans.

I looked around the apartment a little longer, though

it's not too big, and all I found was the uneaten

pizza from the night before. Then, I noticed a

message on the answering machine. Pushing the button,

it was my mom's voice:

"Thanks for letting us stay last night, honey. We

left so early we didn't want to wake you up. I'll

talk to you soon. Bye."

I've talked to my mom since that night a few times,

but never does the topic of our fucking come up. It's

something I would certainly like to partake in again

should the opportunity arise, but, I guess, the way we

have simply chosen to deal with those events is simply

to ignore them when we speak. However, for me, it has

become impossible to make love to my fianc‚ without

imagining that it is my mother below or on top of me.

THE END