AT SUNSET POINT WITH MOM

AT SUNSET POINT WITH MOM
The vista spread before him wasn’t landscape!

by Oediplex (writing as TrojanSnake)

áõóôçñÞ ãñáììáôéêïß äåí õðï÷ñåïýíôáé íá åöáñìüæïõí *

{be sure to look for the ‘bonus boner’ at the end!}

It was just a most beautiful day, on a late May morning, I really wanted to get out of the house. Marty suggested a picnic, we hadn’t had one in several years, and it was the perfect thing to do. Marty got behind the wheel, and I thought he was going to the town park, which has a lovely little lake; with picnic tables, grills and such for families. But he went past it on out to the boondocks. We were miles away from town, beyond far into the surrounding farm land. He turned off on a dirt road and drove for about five minutes before he parked.

“Trust me, mom.” was all he said. I took the basket and he grabbed the cooler and the blanket we had brought. There was a path through the woods, though you couldn’t see it from the road. It was not well used, but still you could follow it by the worn earth, like an old Indian trail. It wended its way uphill, the trees were in blossom and it was quite pretty. Then suddenly we were in a clearing. The middle was a thick carpet of pine needles and moss. It was quiet and there couldn’t have been a soul around for a long ways. But that wasn’t the real charm of the place.

It was bordered on the far end by a cliff. We had come to a high overlook to a deep valley, where orchards and meadows were all in bloom. The colors ran across the panorama like a painting. It was breath taking. “Where are we? How do you know about this spot?”

“This is state land.” he answered, “It isn’t an official park, but just a nature persevere. This is called “Squaw Point”, it has to do with an old native American legend, from the local tribe. I’ll tell you about that later, but let’s eat, I’m starved!”

I was a bit peckish myself by that time, so I agreed. We spread out the blanket, set out the goodies and commenced to chow down. There were butterflies, and dragonflies, and even a humming bird buzzing around. The birds were chirping, the air was perfumed with the scent of the flowers that the breeze from the valley carried to us. It was the most enchanted place. “I can see why the Indian gals loved this locale!” I exclaimed, almost high on the peacefulness.

“Oh the best is yet to come!” My boy said with a tone that meant he was holding back a vital fact. But his smile conveyed he was keeping it a secret for later. “Let’s go for a stroll!” He pulled me to my feet. “Just watch out for poison ivy, and moose droppings!”

I laughed, Are you shitting me? Moose poop? What’s that look like?”

“Oh you’ll smell it before you see it, but it’s like deer scat, only bigger.”

“At least I know what a cow pattie looks like, but I’m more worried about poison ivy.”

“There’s no cattle grazing on this land, and no hunting either, it’s a state preserve for game and bird wild life. I know about it from looking on a map to find good camping when I was a scout. I only came here once before. A buddy of mine, who belongs to the local tribe, told me about the lookout point, and said the sunset was spectacular. He’s the one who shared the legend of the Indian Princess and the Light of the Great Spirit.”

“What was the story?”

“It’s better to show you when we get back, it will be about sunset by then.”

“All right, you’ve got my curiosity aroused!” We traveled for a little while longer through the silvan wonderland, then headed back. I was proud of my son, who led the way, through the thickets, finding the easiest routes, but never loosing his way. We came back to the clearing in due course. Everything was as we had left it, except some critter had gotten into the bag of potato chips and left a a trail of crumbs and nothing else. We cleaned up and repacked. Then sat down with a soda to rest.

“Mom,” said my son the woodsman, “We ought to check for ticks.” He took off his shirt, “Look for small black spots that don’t brush off.” I did. I could help noticing his muscles in his arms and his nice abs too. “Now my legs, and he kicked off his boots, he was wearing shorts, same as me. I took off his socks, as well. He had nice calves. “Now you.”

So I popped off my sneakers, and let him examine my lower limbs, first one then the other.

“Mother, may I check your arms and back too?” I nodded okay and unbuttoned my blouse. I still had a bra on. He got behind me and ran his hands up and down my back. It felt nice. “Mother let me give you a back rub.”

“Mmm, that would be lovely, Honey” I turned to look out over the valley laying down on my tummy, the blanket was soft beneath.

“Mom I’m going to undo your bra-strap to do this right, okay?” and went ahead assuming a positive answer.

“Sure, Darlin’, give momma a nice massage.” I confirmed

I relaxed as he straddle my bottom and proceeded to use his fingers and heals of his hands to work on the knots, easing the tension so that I was fully mellow in a while. I had expected him to try to run his palms along the sides of my breasts, but he didn’t. In fact, I was getting turned on, but he was being a complete gentleman.

“It’s almost sunset,” I remarked seeing the western sky from this vantage point. “What was that tale you were going to tell me?”

“Okay, but you want to sit up and face the cliff.” I did. “Now the legend is told of an Indian Princess, who wished to please the Great Spirit. She was the most beautiful of all the maidens, a virgin. She wished that the great Spirit would be her first. She was told by the medicine man in order for that to happen, she needed to hike up to this lookout-point on a clear spring day, right at sunset.”

“Well, I’m no maiden, but I’m here on a beautiful clear spring day, at sunset.”

“The shaman told the squaw she needed to be naked when the sun set between the two peaks in the west.”

I could see the lowering sun was indeed going to set, right between the tops of two distant mountains westward. But I didn’t disrobe any further holding my unhooked bra to my front. “Then what?”

“She was to spread her legs, like the two peaks, and close her eyes just before the sun disappeared. Then the Great Spirit would come on the wind, blow on her center, and enter her. She would feel him enter her and he would plant his seed, she would bear his fruit. A son that would become a great warrior. He would lead his people to victory over any enemies they had, and their harvest would be bountiful as long as he reigned as chief.”

“Trust me, mom. Get naked. Can I help you get out of your shorts?”

It was weird, but for some reason the story resonated in me. Not that I have any native American blood, but still I felt some kind of kinship with that ancient squaw. Even though my son was right beside me, suddenly I wanted to be naked and have the Great Spirit enter me. I nodded yes, and started unhooking my pants. He helped me shed them as I lifted up my hips. I toss my bra to the side, as Marty dragged off my panties.

I looked down my nude torso, with my knees raised like peaks and saw the sun about to set, between the mountain tops and my thighs and I closed my eyes and lay my head back. Now I know the next part is hard to believe, but it’s the God’s honest truth! There was barely any breeze just before that, but suddenly this warm and steady wind began to blow from up the valley, it was like strong perfume, ’cause of the many blossoms, and it blew straight into my moist cunt.

It was the Great Spirit given me a blow-job. It was all quite erotic, and I was so turned on! Here I was naked in the forest, my legs spread to the sunset, with a scented zephyr zinging me in my crotch. I was the Indian Princess, sacrificing her virginity (okay, I wasn’t a virgin, but I was in the zone, ya know?) for the good of the tribe – or whatever the fuck the legend was. I was primed for the Great Spirit to enter me and knock me up with the next Geronimo.

Then the light changed and the wind died down and the moment was over. I was still turned on though, you could have made me cum with a feather from a warbonnet.

“Mom, did you feel the Great Spirit come over you.?”

“Sort of.”

“May I kiss you?”

“Yes.” He gave me the softest of kisses.

“Let touch your breasts . .”

“Uh-huh . .” Marty felt my left boob, then turned his attention to the other. I was in a dream-like state of euphoria.

“Can I touch you, where the Great Spirit blew?” I nodded my okay and his hand tendered my Mons with a gentle caress. The middle finger found the moisture and spread it along the split.

I heard him whisper in my ear, as my eyes closed, “Mother, I want to suck your nipples?”

“Yes, darlin’, oh yes!” I said as more a moan than words. I was really ready to be taken by him. I was a goner! I felt him make happy mouthing on my twin peaks. His finger went inside me, as I spread my legs, I wanted more. I lay back down on the blanket to allow my son full access to my private parts.

I could tell he was unhitching his own shorts, and struggling out of them. Then I felt him on me, his hard dick on my thighs. I thought – ‘hold on a minute! This is going too far, I have to stop this!’ But then he used a second finger and my protest died in my throat, as he prodded in my pussy with double digits. I was not going to have the will power to keep this brave from planting his seed! I reached down and grabbed his stalk. I pulled it toward my eager hole.

I felt his chest on my breasts. I spread my thighs wide to have him between. I was covering his face with my kisses. He placed his hands on the sides of my hips to give himself leverage. I let go of his boner so it could plow up the furrow of my gooey groove. It made a couple of trial runs in the runny rut of my furry mound. Then, he asked, “Mother?” I knew what he wanted. He didn’t have to spell it out.

But I wanted to make it official. “Fuck me, Marty!” I murmurred, “Fuck momma, good.!”

If the Great Spirit was looking down from the eagle’s perspective, he saw me on my back with my knees high, asshole exposed to the sky and my hole plugged with my son’s cock. Like a wild animal I was locked in mating, devolved back to the most primitive instincts – yes, plant a seed in this squaw! “Give me your child, Marty!” I encouraged my ravager as he pounded away at my blood-engorged gash. The squishing sounds were all but drowned out from our grunts and groans and moans and squeals and vocal cries of ecstasy. His nut-sacks flailed my crotch as he hit the bulls-eye – make that cow’s-cunt – centered perfectly for maximum penetration.

After a while in a paradise of multi-mini-O’s, where time was suspended, I became aware that his pace was quickening and the energy was increasing exponentially. I knew what was cumming and raced to meet my son at the goal line, with a mutual climax. Indeed, our parallel paroxysms peaked perfectly together. I felt the flood of hot jism squirt into my womb – I was like a semen sponge. I would have a litter of braves, sons of my son, a squad of the squaw’s sons to service her needs, hunting by day for deer-meat, by night providing all the man-meat she could handle. It was nice to be here at Sunset Point, good to be blessed by the Great Spirit, it was great to be fucked by my son.

My entire being went into contractions, radiating out from my vagina, making my toes curl, and my lips as well; in that moment before the blast of my lungs let loose a claxon of bellows as the concussion of my cum rippled through my entire nervous system. The confluence of my flow and his gush wet the blanket like a can of soda had spilled. I laughed as we slowly regained our feet, naked as Adam and Eve and as sinful – maybe more? We hugged and kissed, and then I slapped his face.

He looked at me in astonishment, then slapped his ass just as hard.

We both said as one, “Mosquitoes!!!” and ran.

The End.

BONUS BONER:
Excerpt from my alternate ‘nom de naughty’,
Oediplex’s new story “Dream A Little Dream Of Me”

Nope – I didn’t boff my boy before sending him off to war. No, he wasn’t killed. I figured, that if he lived, he would have plenty of girls happy to service a man in the military. Why he was handsome, athletic, in uniform; it wouldn’t have surprised me if he got laid before seeing action! But THIS! this sad and tragic wound – yes, he lived, but to suffer such a devastating injury breaks a mother’s heart. All his limbs were intact, all five; four were fine, they functioned like before. But when the right hand took hold of the fifth, the little man in the middle, there was nothing.

The attack to his backside had left him impotent. He nearly got his ass shot off, but though nothing was missing, he could not raise his penis. A peril I had not anticipated. He had not had a woman before his tour of combat, and now he has come home with a Purple Heart, and pair of blue balls. Some welcome for the hero. [And SHIT! I realizes, no grandchildren!] Public parades through town are nice, but private pubic places are even better. But no nookie for ‘numb-nuts’, or was it ‘numb-putz’? My poor baby!

Too bad we didn’t have sex when we could have. ‘After all, would it have been so bad?’ I thought to myself. We loved one another, it would have been safe sex, that one time – just in case he didn’t make it; after all – who would know? But now as I open the door and hug him, my welcome gets no lovely length nudging my split. He asks me, after he gets settled, if I want to see the wound that sent him home? Though my heart aches for his tragedy, of course I will allow him to display those scars.

He takes off his shirt to show a few minor ones which have interesting adventures attached to their history. Life in the service has put on muscles and beefed up his physique. Then his trousers and his jockeys drop to the floor. The buns I diapered are presented for viewing, the ugly jagged stitching of the surgeon was still red and angry. I turned away, who likes to see their child injured? But he gathered me in his arms and kissed me on the lips.

Then his tongue slid into my mouth. It was nice. I liked it. But how naughty could we be? After all he couldn’t get it uh . . “Mom it’s a miracle!” Up! It was indeed coming, up, and could be if it was able to be up, that it was capable of cumming? His hands were pulling at my clothes, which were tearing and falling apart, paper-thin fabric that was the only garment I had on. My dress disintegrating, so that quickly I was as naked as Danny. We fall upon the bed, I only realize we were in his bedroom just right then, and I am spreading my legs, as my son dives for my junction with his face.

Now that young tongue is going lickity-split, getting me to peak, my hips thrust up to meet his lips.

TRANSLATION * strict grammarians need not apply