I was content just to snuggle and hug the night before we left Devil's Tower, but I had hoped for a little more action when I woke up with morning wood. No such luck, as Mom was already out of bed and breaking camp. I think she was trying to build up some sexual tension and anticipation, but I was already near peak on those two accounts.
Still, I played along and brought in the chairs, and rolled up the awning. I tried not to think about the day before, which was impossible. I couldn't take my eyes off of her body as she went about cleaning up, bending over, or tiptoe reaching over her head, every move brought me a glance of her belly button or the shape of her boobs under her loose shirt, braless, her ass and legs in her tight shorts, her neck, and that still visible hickey I put there.
Once the RV was buttoned up, I pulled us around by the septic dump, then pulled over and plotted our course for the Tetons. I-90 to Buffalo and then leaving the interstate, it would take us all day to get there at RV speeds. We didn't have a reservation at Tetons, so figured we would have to call around to a nearby campground, hoping for the best.
It took a little more than half an hour to get to the interstate at Moorcroft. By then, Mom said, "I really have to pee." and started to get up and go to the back.
I decided that I wanted in on the game of anticipation, so I put my hand on her shoulder and said, "Wait, not yet."
"What's wrong?"
"Nothing's wrong. I want to play a game."
"Can't it wait until I go pee?"
"No," I said, "that's part of the game." I was making this up on the fly, but it worked.
She was curious enough to listen.
"What's the game?" she asked.
I picked up my full-liter water bottle from my cupholder, unscrewed the top, and placed it in the holder on her side. "We're going to play 'Never Have I Ever."
I had her. She looked at me and her eyes flashed, and she bit her lower lip.
"Who starts?" she asked.
"I do. But not so fast. The next rest stop is in eighty miles. I'll pull over there and you can pee. And for every ten miles, I get to ask you a question."
"When do I get a turn asking?"
"You don't get a turn."
"Why not!?"
"Because I'm already hot and bothered. I need you to catch up."
Another lip bite, and a glance at my crotch. "So, in eighty miles, I get to pee. Ok. But what do you get?"
"I'll tell you when we get there. You'll have to trust me."
"Oh, I do NOT trust you!" But she didn't say 'no.'
I gave it another mile before I said, "First question: Never have I ever had sex with a teenage boy."
"That's not fair. I told you about my high school boyfriend." She complained, but she picked up the bottle and took a swallow of water. She didn't seem to be too desperate yet.
As the next ten miles rolled by, I could see her start to squirm. She pressed her legs together. She kept looking out the window at the mile markers.
"Next question: Never have I ever fantasized about my son fucking me."
She tried to just take a little sip, but I gave her a look and she tried again and took a proper swig. Just under seventy miles to go.
Ten more miles and she was pressing her thighs together. "Next question: Never have I ever leaked my juices on my son's cock."
She lifted the bottle and stared at me as she swallowed. She knew that she would be drinking every ten miles, but it seemed she couldn't wait to hear what I would call her out on next. It wasn't clear to me that all the squirming was just because she had to pee. And that was good because my final demand would require that she be as horny as I was.
Still, fifty miles to go when I said, without my eyes even leaving the road, "Never have I ever licked my juices from my son's cock."
She drank. Then she pressed her hand between her legs and applied pressure.
Forty miles to go. "Never have I ever swallowed a teenage boy's cum." That was only true if I didn't count tasting and swallowing my own, but she didn't challenge it. Her mouth opened as if she were remembering what it was like to suck her boyfriend's cock, how he tasted, and how he squirted onto her tongue. We were halfway to the rest stop, and she tucked her legs up in the seat. She no longer looked out the window. Her focus was on her own body and controlling herself.
I had figured out my last three questions miles ago. After another ten miles, I risked asking one I genuinely didn't know the answer to: "Never have I ever been fucked in the ass."
The question shocked her. She looked over at me with her lips parted, but she didn't pick up the bottle. Still, the next ten miles did their work, and she was really fighting to hold it in, while also rubbing and stimulating herself as she pressed down on her crotch. She moved one hand under her shirt and began playing with her tits.
Regardless of how she answered the previous question, what I really wanted to know was the next one. After ten long miles, I said, "Never have I ever fantasized about my son fucking me in my virgin ass."
She didn't move at first. Then she shyly picked up the bottle and took a drink.
Only one more question, and then the rest stop would come up in a little less than ten more miles.
I took my biggest shot of all, "Never have I ever fantasized about my son getting me pregnant."
"Oh my god," she said. Not to me as much as to herself as she was torn between her need to pee and her need to cum. Then she reached over and picked up the bottle. It was still about one-third full. She drained the entire thing, water spilling out of her mouth and soaking her shirt, which clung to her tits and made it hard for me to watch the road.
She looked at me and said, "That's what you wanted, isn't it? Now in about nine miles, I get to pee. What do you get?"
I was so ready for this, and I knew she was too ready to reject it, "You are not allowed to pee until my cum is in your mouth. You get relief when I get relief."
"Oh, you mother fucker! Ok. Fuck yeah. Fuck fuck yeah."
She reached down and unbuttoned her shorts and peeled them off somehow while still clenching her legs. Then she leaned out of her chair and started unzipping my pants.
"Hey, not yet!"
"I want you to be ready to go!" She finished taking off my pants and briefs and I sat there with my bare ass on the seat, my dick a raging hard-on.
Then she got back in her seat and peeled off her panties and had one hand holding her pussy while the other was under her shirt.
Five more miles and she was cussing the whole time. She unbuttoned her wet shirt. As I hit the off-ramp for the rest stop, she jumped out of her seat and ran to the toilet, throwing her shirt on the floor. I took my time parking the RV and walking to the back.
"Hurry! Oh my god! Hurry!"
She was sitting on the toilet with her legs still tightly together. My cock was at eye level, but I stood just out of reach.
"Please!"
"Please what?"
"Please let me suck your cock and swallow your cum so I can pee!"
"Is that the only reason?"
"God no! Please cum in my mouth!"
"Spread your legs," I said.
She did, and I stepped forward. She wrapped her lips around my cock and sucked and slurped and worked her tongue in desperation. It wasn't long before I felt like I was about to cum, so I pulled out one last time, knowing I could ask her for anything now.
"Beg me. Tell me how much you want to swallow my cum."
"Oh, my god, please, I beg you, I BEG you. Please. I will do anything for you. I want to swallow your cum. I want you to fuck me. Fuck me in the ass, fuck my pussy."
"Tell me you want me to breed you."
"Yes, please, please fuck me raw and make me pregnant. Oh my god, but right now please cum in my mouth."
I stepped back in, and she finished me in seconds. She took me deep in her throat, but I backed out enough for my cum to land on her tongue where she could taste it, and let it spill out her lips. The stream of pee I heard at the same time sounded like the faucet and ran for a minute.
When I was spent, she kept me in her mouth, and when she was done peeing, her hand was back in her crotch, rubbing and penetrating. I reached down with both hands and pulled her nipples, and she came hard, with my half-shrunken dick still in her mouth.
We went back to the bed, naked, and lay 69 at first, then taking turns, sucking and tasting each other. She would have let me fuck her then, in the pussy or the ass, whatever I wanted, but I decided I liked being the one to dictate what we did, where, and when. And besides, I didn't want our first time to be at an Interstate rest stop. She wanted me inside her so much that her mouth took me twice again over the next hour, sucking, swallowing, cleaning.
"Please fuck me," she said.
I put my tongue in her mouth and fucked her lips as she sucked it. She was pressing her pussy up against my crotch, grinding, but I was too spent for her to have her way with me. I slid down her body one last time and sucked her clit until she came again.
We lay naked with each other, her head on my belly looking back at my face, her legs spread for me to gently finger her wet slit, content, me just admiring every inch of her. She bit her lip again, and said, "I need to tell you something, but it breaks our rule."
I laughed. "Which rule? I think we've broken them all by now."
She laughed too, but what she had to say was serious, "The rule about not talking about things at home. I wasn't going to tell you until summer is over, but when I take you back to school, I'm not going back home. Your dad and I are over."
I wasn't all that surprised, as it seemed like it had been over for a long time. I asked, "Was it just that he spent all his time at work?"
"If by 'work' you mean inside his bitch secretary Trish, then yes."
"Oh." I knew about Trish. Or I had strongly suspected it. Maybe that's why I never felt any guilt about what Mom and I were doing.
She explained, "The papers are signed, and I'm getting enough to do just fine without him. He keeps the house. I just wanted to escape and live the life I dreamed. So, I don't want you to worry about me."
"Then I'm not going back to school! I want to stay with you!"
She put her finger over my lips. "We are not going to have that argument now. Let's live in the moment."
"Okay," I agreed for now. But I took her finger into my mouth and I sucked on it and I knew that when the time came to decide, I would win.
Neither of us wanted to take time to shower off. We put on some fresh clothes and got back on the road. Mom started calling campgrounds, further and further from the national park until finally, she lucked into one with a vacancy. We made good time despite our extended stop and got there well before dark. Mom and I went inside to pay for the spot and get the gate code.
The girl behind the counter was pretty, in her twenties, with colorful tattoos on her arms, the kind of girl I might have flirted with in another setting. But she seemed to sense the vibe between my mother and me. Or maybe she could just smell the sex on us. Or maybe she saw the hickey on my mom's neck.
"How many nights?"
"Not sure yet. At least two. Is it a problem to leave it open-ended?" I asked.
"No problem at all. Most of our campers are here for the season."
"Like that movie 'Nomads'?" my mother asked. She seemed excited at the idea of that kind of community.
"Exactly like that movie," she answered. And instead of writing the gate code on a receipt or the campground map, she took my mother's hand and wrote it on her palm. They looked into each other's eyes and clearly had a moment.
Then the girl said, "If you want to meet the locals, there's a campfire every night by the lake. Somebody always brings a guitar."
When we got back in the RV, I turned to Mom and laughed, "What the hell was that?"
"Everybody needs a mother," she said with a wink.
We got settled at our campsite. It was pretty bare-bones, but it had a connect, and a picnic table. We finally got cleaned up and put on a slightly nicer version of camping wear to meet our neighbors. Mom looked beautiful, but I was a little sad that she was wearing a bra. As we walked to the campsite, I carried a backpack with our dinner in it, a blanket, and a bottle of wine. I took Mom's hand as we walked. She gave me an 'are you sure?' look, and I held her hand even tighter.
There were a handful of folks already at the fire. We introduced ourselves, and never felt a hint of judgment. These people just took us as we were without needing to hear our story.
I cooked some hot dogs over the fire while others arrived. I saw the tattooed girl across the way, and she smiled at us but kept her distance. We ate at a picnic table, and by then, somebody started strumming a guitar.
The night was perfect. And I knew that this was our time.
The musician started playing Eagles songs, and most everyone started singing along. Mom sang, and I just watched her, the firelight flickering in her eyes. Then I took her hand again and asked, "May I have this dance?"
We stood and began to slow dance, my mom in my arms, turning, and just rocking back and forth, holding each other, and the right lyrics came around. I whispered in her ear along with the song, "I want to sleep with you in the desert tonight, with a billion stars all around."