16-01-2020, 01:44 AM
(This post was last modified: 16-01-2020, 01:46 AM by nilr1. Edited 1 time in total. Edited 1 time in total.)
STORY2: Riding With Mom
by alwayswantedto©
My father had promised me a trip when I finished college. He said it was a good idea to get away from it all to give yourself a chance to reset your mind. I knew my father had traveled in his youth, so I was pretty geared up for where he was going to send me, at his expense. I had visions of hitting all the sunspots, VISA and booze in hand, and girls waiting to take their place.
Ahhh, but not so fast, Roger. The promised land doesn't always meet your expectations. As it turns out, my trip around the world was an eight day wilderness horseback excursion with Ma and Pa Hamilton. That's right. After four years of college, straight out of school, my rite of passage was a ride about with mommy and daddy aback some sweaty old nag batting away horseflies. Swell!
My father, on seeing my disappointment, confided that this was my mother's idea, that she really wanted us to be together on our last family vacation. I was, under no circumstances, to display anything but the greatest enthusiasm, for my mother's sake. After all, he said, "I think you'll find it far more rewarding than you think."
He followed up those prophetic words with a further promise to fund a trip to Europe, if I behaved myself and made Mom happy during the trip. So I resigned myself to another week or so of drudgery. After all, I'd made it through college telling myself I could take anything for four years. What's another week and a half?
As trip time approached I learned, not surprisingly, that the horseback adventure was really my father's idea, something he'd always wanted to do. Mom had wanted us all to go to Europe. But my father usually got his way, typically awarding himself brownie points for fulfilling the wishes of others while he was at it.
So it was that we ended up in the foothills of the Rocky mountains on three horses provisioned for ten days of solitude in the wilds. Neither Mom nor I were happy to learn that we were on our own in the wild outdoors without guides. There were rustic cabins along the route equipped with sleeping bags, food, feed for the horses, and other supplies. We carried only our clothes and emergency provisions in our saddle bags.
And so we were off. My father leading the way, full of vigor on his sparky steed followed by his less ecstatic troop aboard their mellow plugs, as befitting their lower equestrian experience. By the afternoon, I did have to admit that the countryside was stunning. Rolling alpine meadows sprinkled with flowers against a backdrop of snowcapped peaks I'd only seen in pictures and movies. Completely alien and wonderful compared to the corn fields of home.
Along the way, we stopped for snacks, laying in the wild fields, once beside a small stream, reveling in the spectacular beauty that surrounded us at every point of the compass. I began to feel that perhaps this trip wouldn't be that bad, after all. Although we had been late leaving that morning, we easily reached the cabin we were to spend our first night in, set in a hillside within a clump of trees. We sat outside in the primitive wooden chairs drinking wine as the evening fell, gazing at the valley below and the craggy peaks beyond.
It was a very romantic setting, and I offered to set up a tent if Mom and Dad wanted the cabin to themselves. Mom laughed, saying that there'd be no need for that. Dad looked uncomfortable and disgruntled, muttering something and standing up to walk away a distance to take in the vista on his own. Mom quietly said, "Things have changed a little since you went to college, dear. Your father needs to do this. He isn't the man he used to be." She went inside without further explanation.
Feeling a little awkward, I checked to see that the horses were secure in the little corral and then headed into the cabin myself. When I entered, Mom was just slipping into her sleeping bag on one of the rustic, hand-hewn bunks. All of the sleeping quarters were in the same room. In the dim lantern light, the shadows played over her bare arms and legs, and the hem of her nightdress pulled high as she slid her feet into her bag. She zipped up the side of the sleeping bag part way, leaving a flap open across her tummy, the pink cotton material resting softly over her breasts as she leaned on her right elbow, facing me.
"Try to make your Dad happy on this trip, Roger. It's very important to him."
"I know, Mom. I will."
She laid back, curling her arm across her forehead, stretching her nightie over her breasts. "Oh, God, I'm stiff," she said. "I'll be sore tomorrow."
So am I, I thought, but not just from the horse. On the excuse of visiting the outside premises, I left, passing Dad on the way out.
"Goodnight, son. Check on the horses, will you?"
"Sure thing, Dad," I replied, quickly slipping by in the doorway facing away from him to hide the boner that had exploded in my pants so suddenly at the sight of my Mom. My face was red. This had never happened before. Why would I get a hardon seeing my Mom in her nightdress, something I'd seen probably hundreds of times before? It was ridiculous!
Outside, my dick refused to subside, and the picture of my Mom laying back, arm covering her eyes while her tits pressed against her light pink, flannel nightie, seared into my vision in true color HDTV. Walking around to the far side of the little coral, I pulled my dong out of my jeans and quickly jacked off into the grass. It didn't take long. I was glad it was dark when I returned to the cabin. I made my way to my bunk without turning on a flashlight.
I opened my eyes to the sun filtering in through the window and the open doorway. Mom was cooking breakfast on the cabin's little propane cook stove. Dad was nowhere in sight, out for a morning walk, I presumed. Mom was still dressed just in her pink nightie. I hadn't made as sound as I awoke, and I continued to lay still, peering at her as she moved about. The nightie fell to about the middle of her back, lower than in front, and the hem was about mid-thigh level, showing off her well-exercised, tanned legs. Mom was a pretty nice woman for forty-something, pretty nice. There was something basic, almost primordial, being alone in a cabin in the mountains with an attractive woman. My cock started to swell. I turned more onto my stomach, forcing my stiffness against the wooden bunk, closing my eyes as my mother turned to look at me.
When I cautiously opened them just a slit a moment later, she was next to her bunk fishing around in her pack. She pulled out a new pair of panties. Lifting her nightie a little, she sipped her hands underneath and then slid her old panties down her legs, stepping out of them and then pulled the new ones up and into place. I caught a brief glimpse of her bare ass as the change took place. Next, she grabbed her riding pants and pulled them up under the nightie, pulling them up tight.
Glancing over her shoulder in my direction, she then pulled her nightie over her head, stretching her arms far above, providing me with a wonderful view of her smooth back, her narrow waist flaring out to her hips, and a hint of the side of her right breast, sloping down and then bouncing as she brought her arms down and tossed the nightie to the bunk. Picking her bra up from the pack, she slipped her arms through it and pulled it around to the front, squeezing her breasts in. I could clearly hear the snaps click into place, the room was so still. Finally, she picked up her pullover blouse and put it on, pulling it down tight. As she turned back to check on breakfast, I feigned waking, perhaps a little too obvious.
"Oh, there's my boy. Finally. Come on, up and at 'em."
When I balked, looking around, she said, "Don't be shy, I won't peek. Anyway, I don't think there's going to be much room for privacy on this trip."
Fortunately, she kept her back to me as I dressed because my dick would not listen to my silent reprimands. As soon as I got my jeans, on I walked stiffly outside, shirt in hand.
"A little sore, I see," Mom laughed as I limped out the door, attributing my awkward gate to saddle sores.
After breakfast we saddled up and headed out. We expected a five hour ride to reach the next cabin, following a gently climbing trail through grassy meadows and thickets of small pine trees, just like the previous day. The scenery was even more fantastic than the day before, getting better and better as we climbed along the side of the mountains. We didn't run into anyone. This was by design, as the outfitters only let one group leave every second day. We were pretty much guaranteed a trip with the wilderness all to ourselves.
When we stopped for lunch we dug into our stash of wine again. That is, Mom and I did. Dad couldn't help but walk around. Mom and I laid back on our blankets, leaning on our elbows sipping wine, chatting and gazing about. It was soul cleansing, that's for sure. My mind didn't entertain thoughts beyond what I could see, and when Mom laid back, covering her eyes with her arm, allowing me to freely run mine over her figure, my thoughts remained very close by, indeed.
I couldn't understand why I was checking my Mom out so much. Why I kept getting boners watching her, as I had on much of the morning ride as I watched her butt swaying in the saddle ahead of me. Was it because she was the only woman around? She hadn't done anything to encourage me, though she definitely had a figure worth looking at. The stretchy riding breeches clung to her legs up and over her hips, outlining her buttocks in fine detail, and clearly molding the mound in front. The form fitting t-shirt she wore equally displayed her other womanly charms which, while not large, were firm and supple, and clearly hadn't strayed long from the best days of their youth despite the calendar years of their host.
"Its gorgeous, isn't it?"
Startled, I jerked my eyes away from Mom's breast up to her eyes which were regarding me, shading from the sun by her cupped hand held against her forehead.
"What?"
"There's a real beauty, here, isn't there?"
"Yes," I stuttered as I recovered enough to speak, "yes there is." Had she noticed where I was looking? Had I been saved by the sun in her eyes? At that moment, Dad sauntered out of the trees fifty feet away.
"Let's go, saddle up," he called out. Mom and I struggled up, stiffly.
"I have to visit nature first," Mom said and strode off toward the trees.
"You'll have to catch up then," Dad responded, then, to me, "Saddle up Mom's horse and stay with her. I'm going to scout out ahead and give this filly a stretch. Those plugs of yours can plod along behind."
"Ok, Dad. We'll tag along."
Mom emerged from the trees and waved to Dad as he trotted by. She walked up and put something into her saddlebag and then struggled to get on her horse.
"Roger, give me a hand. These old bones can't do it by themselves."
I walked to her side, and tried to lift her up by her elbow.
"No, give me a push. Come on, don't be shy, give my butt a boost." She stepped into the stirrup and started to lift herself up. I swung my open hand down and pressed it against the bottom of her ass as she started to rise, pushing up until she could swing her leg over the saddle.
"Thank you, sir. I think I might need a little push every time I get on this damned horse," she laughed as she prodded her nag into a walk.
I quickly swung up onto my hardly more spry steed and nudged it into action, catching up and pulling abreast so we could ride side by side. There was something different about Mom, but I couldn't quite put my finger on what it was. We rode along in silence, Mom surveying the scenery away from me to the right, but not turning away, sitting square in the saddle. Then I noticed. Her breasts were jouncing up and down, freely, bouncing along with the sway of the horse. A flash of her saddlebag entry shot into my mind. She'd taken off her bra while she was in the trees doing her business! My cock swelled up, throbbing against my jeans. She kept riding along, angled perfectly for me to watch her tits in their erotic dance, and her face turned away. Was she giving me a show? No. Impossible.
"Oh, God, it's so beautiful, it feels so exhilarating," she suddenly cried out in a throaty voice as she leaned back, pulling her elbows back to rest on the rear ridge of the saddle behind her, throwing her head back, arching her back and thrusting her tits up, the nipples expressing themselves strongly against the thin material of her shirt. I stared, riding along with my head moving up and down in time with the bounce of her tits. "It makes me feel so good."
I couldn't agree more. Despite the chance that she would suddenly look over and catch me staring, I kept my eyes fixed on her. She kept riding on, leaning back even further, almost lying on the horse's rump. Her t-shirt pulled out of her riding pants, baring her belly with just a hint of fuzzy blondish hair reflecting the sunlight. What a sight. She seemed to be part of the wild scenery as she swung along beside me, until we could hear my Dad riding back toward us. Mom jerked herself up at the first sound of his approaching hooves, tugging her shirt down.
by alwayswantedto©
My father had promised me a trip when I finished college. He said it was a good idea to get away from it all to give yourself a chance to reset your mind. I knew my father had traveled in his youth, so I was pretty geared up for where he was going to send me, at his expense. I had visions of hitting all the sunspots, VISA and booze in hand, and girls waiting to take their place.
Ahhh, but not so fast, Roger. The promised land doesn't always meet your expectations. As it turns out, my trip around the world was an eight day wilderness horseback excursion with Ma and Pa Hamilton. That's right. After four years of college, straight out of school, my rite of passage was a ride about with mommy and daddy aback some sweaty old nag batting away horseflies. Swell!
My father, on seeing my disappointment, confided that this was my mother's idea, that she really wanted us to be together on our last family vacation. I was, under no circumstances, to display anything but the greatest enthusiasm, for my mother's sake. After all, he said, "I think you'll find it far more rewarding than you think."
He followed up those prophetic words with a further promise to fund a trip to Europe, if I behaved myself and made Mom happy during the trip. So I resigned myself to another week or so of drudgery. After all, I'd made it through college telling myself I could take anything for four years. What's another week and a half?
As trip time approached I learned, not surprisingly, that the horseback adventure was really my father's idea, something he'd always wanted to do. Mom had wanted us all to go to Europe. But my father usually got his way, typically awarding himself brownie points for fulfilling the wishes of others while he was at it.
So it was that we ended up in the foothills of the Rocky mountains on three horses provisioned for ten days of solitude in the wilds. Neither Mom nor I were happy to learn that we were on our own in the wild outdoors without guides. There were rustic cabins along the route equipped with sleeping bags, food, feed for the horses, and other supplies. We carried only our clothes and emergency provisions in our saddle bags.
And so we were off. My father leading the way, full of vigor on his sparky steed followed by his less ecstatic troop aboard their mellow plugs, as befitting their lower equestrian experience. By the afternoon, I did have to admit that the countryside was stunning. Rolling alpine meadows sprinkled with flowers against a backdrop of snowcapped peaks I'd only seen in pictures and movies. Completely alien and wonderful compared to the corn fields of home.
Along the way, we stopped for snacks, laying in the wild fields, once beside a small stream, reveling in the spectacular beauty that surrounded us at every point of the compass. I began to feel that perhaps this trip wouldn't be that bad, after all. Although we had been late leaving that morning, we easily reached the cabin we were to spend our first night in, set in a hillside within a clump of trees. We sat outside in the primitive wooden chairs drinking wine as the evening fell, gazing at the valley below and the craggy peaks beyond.
It was a very romantic setting, and I offered to set up a tent if Mom and Dad wanted the cabin to themselves. Mom laughed, saying that there'd be no need for that. Dad looked uncomfortable and disgruntled, muttering something and standing up to walk away a distance to take in the vista on his own. Mom quietly said, "Things have changed a little since you went to college, dear. Your father needs to do this. He isn't the man he used to be." She went inside without further explanation.
Feeling a little awkward, I checked to see that the horses were secure in the little corral and then headed into the cabin myself. When I entered, Mom was just slipping into her sleeping bag on one of the rustic, hand-hewn bunks. All of the sleeping quarters were in the same room. In the dim lantern light, the shadows played over her bare arms and legs, and the hem of her nightdress pulled high as she slid her feet into her bag. She zipped up the side of the sleeping bag part way, leaving a flap open across her tummy, the pink cotton material resting softly over her breasts as she leaned on her right elbow, facing me.
"Try to make your Dad happy on this trip, Roger. It's very important to him."
"I know, Mom. I will."
She laid back, curling her arm across her forehead, stretching her nightie over her breasts. "Oh, God, I'm stiff," she said. "I'll be sore tomorrow."
So am I, I thought, but not just from the horse. On the excuse of visiting the outside premises, I left, passing Dad on the way out.
"Goodnight, son. Check on the horses, will you?"
"Sure thing, Dad," I replied, quickly slipping by in the doorway facing away from him to hide the boner that had exploded in my pants so suddenly at the sight of my Mom. My face was red. This had never happened before. Why would I get a hardon seeing my Mom in her nightdress, something I'd seen probably hundreds of times before? It was ridiculous!
Outside, my dick refused to subside, and the picture of my Mom laying back, arm covering her eyes while her tits pressed against her light pink, flannel nightie, seared into my vision in true color HDTV. Walking around to the far side of the little coral, I pulled my dong out of my jeans and quickly jacked off into the grass. It didn't take long. I was glad it was dark when I returned to the cabin. I made my way to my bunk without turning on a flashlight.
I opened my eyes to the sun filtering in through the window and the open doorway. Mom was cooking breakfast on the cabin's little propane cook stove. Dad was nowhere in sight, out for a morning walk, I presumed. Mom was still dressed just in her pink nightie. I hadn't made as sound as I awoke, and I continued to lay still, peering at her as she moved about. The nightie fell to about the middle of her back, lower than in front, and the hem was about mid-thigh level, showing off her well-exercised, tanned legs. Mom was a pretty nice woman for forty-something, pretty nice. There was something basic, almost primordial, being alone in a cabin in the mountains with an attractive woman. My cock started to swell. I turned more onto my stomach, forcing my stiffness against the wooden bunk, closing my eyes as my mother turned to look at me.
When I cautiously opened them just a slit a moment later, she was next to her bunk fishing around in her pack. She pulled out a new pair of panties. Lifting her nightie a little, she sipped her hands underneath and then slid her old panties down her legs, stepping out of them and then pulled the new ones up and into place. I caught a brief glimpse of her bare ass as the change took place. Next, she grabbed her riding pants and pulled them up under the nightie, pulling them up tight.
Glancing over her shoulder in my direction, she then pulled her nightie over her head, stretching her arms far above, providing me with a wonderful view of her smooth back, her narrow waist flaring out to her hips, and a hint of the side of her right breast, sloping down and then bouncing as she brought her arms down and tossed the nightie to the bunk. Picking her bra up from the pack, she slipped her arms through it and pulled it around to the front, squeezing her breasts in. I could clearly hear the snaps click into place, the room was so still. Finally, she picked up her pullover blouse and put it on, pulling it down tight. As she turned back to check on breakfast, I feigned waking, perhaps a little too obvious.
"Oh, there's my boy. Finally. Come on, up and at 'em."
When I balked, looking around, she said, "Don't be shy, I won't peek. Anyway, I don't think there's going to be much room for privacy on this trip."
Fortunately, she kept her back to me as I dressed because my dick would not listen to my silent reprimands. As soon as I got my jeans, on I walked stiffly outside, shirt in hand.
"A little sore, I see," Mom laughed as I limped out the door, attributing my awkward gate to saddle sores.
After breakfast we saddled up and headed out. We expected a five hour ride to reach the next cabin, following a gently climbing trail through grassy meadows and thickets of small pine trees, just like the previous day. The scenery was even more fantastic than the day before, getting better and better as we climbed along the side of the mountains. We didn't run into anyone. This was by design, as the outfitters only let one group leave every second day. We were pretty much guaranteed a trip with the wilderness all to ourselves.
When we stopped for lunch we dug into our stash of wine again. That is, Mom and I did. Dad couldn't help but walk around. Mom and I laid back on our blankets, leaning on our elbows sipping wine, chatting and gazing about. It was soul cleansing, that's for sure. My mind didn't entertain thoughts beyond what I could see, and when Mom laid back, covering her eyes with her arm, allowing me to freely run mine over her figure, my thoughts remained very close by, indeed.
I couldn't understand why I was checking my Mom out so much. Why I kept getting boners watching her, as I had on much of the morning ride as I watched her butt swaying in the saddle ahead of me. Was it because she was the only woman around? She hadn't done anything to encourage me, though she definitely had a figure worth looking at. The stretchy riding breeches clung to her legs up and over her hips, outlining her buttocks in fine detail, and clearly molding the mound in front. The form fitting t-shirt she wore equally displayed her other womanly charms which, while not large, were firm and supple, and clearly hadn't strayed long from the best days of their youth despite the calendar years of their host.
"Its gorgeous, isn't it?"
Startled, I jerked my eyes away from Mom's breast up to her eyes which were regarding me, shading from the sun by her cupped hand held against her forehead.
"What?"
"There's a real beauty, here, isn't there?"
"Yes," I stuttered as I recovered enough to speak, "yes there is." Had she noticed where I was looking? Had I been saved by the sun in her eyes? At that moment, Dad sauntered out of the trees fifty feet away.
"Let's go, saddle up," he called out. Mom and I struggled up, stiffly.
"I have to visit nature first," Mom said and strode off toward the trees.
"You'll have to catch up then," Dad responded, then, to me, "Saddle up Mom's horse and stay with her. I'm going to scout out ahead and give this filly a stretch. Those plugs of yours can plod along behind."
"Ok, Dad. We'll tag along."
Mom emerged from the trees and waved to Dad as he trotted by. She walked up and put something into her saddlebag and then struggled to get on her horse.
"Roger, give me a hand. These old bones can't do it by themselves."
I walked to her side, and tried to lift her up by her elbow.
"No, give me a push. Come on, don't be shy, give my butt a boost." She stepped into the stirrup and started to lift herself up. I swung my open hand down and pressed it against the bottom of her ass as she started to rise, pushing up until she could swing her leg over the saddle.
"Thank you, sir. I think I might need a little push every time I get on this damned horse," she laughed as she prodded her nag into a walk.
I quickly swung up onto my hardly more spry steed and nudged it into action, catching up and pulling abreast so we could ride side by side. There was something different about Mom, but I couldn't quite put my finger on what it was. We rode along in silence, Mom surveying the scenery away from me to the right, but not turning away, sitting square in the saddle. Then I noticed. Her breasts were jouncing up and down, freely, bouncing along with the sway of the horse. A flash of her saddlebag entry shot into my mind. She'd taken off her bra while she was in the trees doing her business! My cock swelled up, throbbing against my jeans. She kept riding along, angled perfectly for me to watch her tits in their erotic dance, and her face turned away. Was she giving me a show? No. Impossible.
"Oh, God, it's so beautiful, it feels so exhilarating," she suddenly cried out in a throaty voice as she leaned back, pulling her elbows back to rest on the rear ridge of the saddle behind her, throwing her head back, arching her back and thrusting her tits up, the nipples expressing themselves strongly against the thin material of her shirt. I stared, riding along with my head moving up and down in time with the bounce of her tits. "It makes me feel so good."
I couldn't agree more. Despite the chance that she would suddenly look over and catch me staring, I kept my eyes fixed on her. She kept riding on, leaning back even further, almost lying on the horse's rump. Her t-shirt pulled out of her riding pants, baring her belly with just a hint of fuzzy blondish hair reflecting the sunlight. What a sight. She seemed to be part of the wild scenery as she swung along beside me, until we could hear my Dad riding back toward us. Mom jerked herself up at the first sound of his approaching hooves, tugging her shirt down.
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