Yate's Mom

Mom sat in the beach chair next to me, sipping an umbrella drink and watching the sunrise. I watched her from the side of my eyes. Never looking directly at her. Just remembering the profile of this woman and all the ways she had terrorized me in my childhood. An odd mixture of arousal and anger stole over me, and I sat my drink aside. The last thing I wanted tonight was a limp whiskey-dick.

“Whoever she was, she was stupid.” I glanced over at Mom and saw her shrug. “Whoever you bought these tickets for. This place is magnificent.” She sighed dramatically. “If she was here instead of me, I’d be looking forward to grandchildren.”

I shrugged it off. Maybe it was Mom’s version of being playful, but it felt judgmental. If only… All my fault.

“I can’t believe we have an entire island to ourselves,” Mom said. “It’s almost a pity to share it with your mother. All the things a person could do all alone on a jungle island.”

“It’s only a quarter-mile square,” I said. “And you can still run naked through the jungle if you want. Or swim in the sea naked. Or just lay here and get baked under the sun naked.”

Mom sipped her drink. “Seems you thought about having a naked woman here with you quite a bit.”

“I’m an adult, Mom. If you want to… sample the freedom, have at it.” I shrugged again. “It what I’m paying for. Freedom and privacy.” After a couple of seconds, I stood up. “Fuck it.” I yanked off my swimming suit and tossed it aside. “What the hell. You’ve seen me naked, right?”

There was no answer for several seconds. “Well, that was a while ago.” She cleared her throat. “You’ve… grown up.”

I lay on the beach chair again. Put my head behind my heads. Thought about my plan and didn’t hide it when my cock started growing. A glance to the side at Mom showed me that she was doing her best not to notice it. I wrapped my hand around it and stroked it slowly.

“I… I think you need some privacy.”

“No.” I grabbed at Mom’s arm and yanked her closer. “I want an audience.”

Mom struggled a minute. Pushed at my chest. But I was easily twice as strong as she was. After a moment, she lay still. “Okay, you have an audience. Go ahead.”

“You do it.”

“The hell I will.” Mom struggled again. “I’m your mother!”

“I know. And I want you to give me a hand job.” I laughed. “It isn’t like I’m trying to rape you, Mom. I just need a hand.” I grabbed her hand and pulled it, against her resistance. “Mom, I’m paying for you to fucking be here.”

I forcibly curled her fingers around my cock and held them in place. Made her pump it up and down slowly. Moaned and turned my face to nuzzle her neck.

“That’s it, Mom. Just a little hand.”

“This is sick.”

“Could be worse.” I relaxed my fingers to test. Mom didn’t pull away. Her hand kept moving. “Good girl. Fuck, Mom. I need this. I fucking need it.”

My hand held her cheek. Pushed her face against my chest. I lay there and watched my mother tugging mechanically on my cock. I ran my fingers through her hair. When she didn’t move, I slid my hand down her back and pulled the string to her top.

“Damnit, Yates! This is too much.”

“Showing me your tits is too much, but jerking me off is fine?” I held her against me as she tried to throw elbows. “You want this to be done, or you want to do it all night, Mom? It isn’t like you’re being enthusiastic about it.”

“Because I’m. Your. Mom.”

I put her hand back on my cock. “Go ahead. I’ll be good.”

The red ball of the sun disappeared behind the sea as Mom jerked my cock. I arched my back and moaned. Nuzzled Mom’s throat again. Whispered, “Faster, Mom. Goddamn, you have amazing hands.”

“Hush.”

But she pumped faster. I twisted around towards her to get my hand between us. Palmed one of her tits and squeezed.

“I knew it,” she hissed. “Yates…”

“I need to fucking come,” I snarled. “If you’re hand gets tired, use your goddamn mouth. You run that all the fucking time.”

Mom went silent. But she didn’t stop me from mauling her tits. Fuck. She had me close. I had to think about goddamn baseball to keep from exploding.

“Mom,” I panted, writhing. “I need more, Mom. I’m almost there.”

“What else do you need?” Her voice sounded bored, defeated, and disgusted all at once.

I put my hand on the back of her neck and pushed. “I need your mouth, Mom.”

This time she really fought. Or tried to. She bucked, tried to wrench free, her fingers flexing open on empty air, but I ...