A Vacation for Mom - Sex Stories

A Vacation for Mom

... planned to take her down in the volcano the next day, but she got a good look from the rim. Stan was bringing a group back when we got up on the rim. “Is this your girlfriend, Regan?” he asked. “Yes she is,” I told him. “Sadin, this is Stan. He usually takes a group down in the morning and I go in the afternoon.” “Sadin, watch out for him,” Stan winked at her. “He’ll sacrifice you to the goddess if you go with him. You should schedule a morning trip.” Mom just laughed and held my arm. “I trust him, Stan,” she said. “He thinks I’m the goddess.” He smiled at that. “You are a goddess, Sadin. You’re too beautiful to hang out with him.” “Hey, she doesn’t like hairy guys,” I told him. He looked down at the forest sprouting out of the neck of his uniform. “I’m getting waxed this afternoon,” he said. He took his troupe off down the mountain and we stayed a while longer. “Why do you do that, Regan?” she laughed. “He liked me! Then you told him I was your girlfriend.” “We’re on our honeymoon, remember?” I said. “Yes, you’ve become an incorrigible liar since you’ve been here,” she said. We walked back down the mountain and drove home. I made a picnic and we put on shorts and t-shirts to go to a place I knew. We had to hike half a mile but it was worth it. I know the property owner and she promised to keep everyone but us out. We walked right back under one of the volcanic ridges where a waterfall plunges 60 feet down into a large pool before running off down a small stream. There were ...

... lots of trees and grass and it’s the perfect picnic spot. We set our stuff up in the shade and I got blankets to spread on the grass in the sun. We rolled towels up for pillows and lay on the blankets. She felt like she was burning and since her skin is so fair, I believed her. She tans easily, but she had been inside in that Boston winter and her tan had faded to a golden tint. She put on sunscreen and we moved back into the shade for a while. It was very humid and we sweated quite a bit. I suggested swimming in the pool. “Why didn’t you tell me we were coming here?” she asked. “We could have brought swim suits.” “I didn’t know it was going to be so humid,” I told her. “The wind usually blows this humidity away. It may storm tonight. We could go skinny dipping.” “Someone might see us,” she said. “Other people come here; I could tell by the path.” “Not today,” I told her. “This is private property and the landowner promised she wouldn’t let anyone else come today.” She began to blush. “I don’t know, Regan. This sounds like a bad idea to me.” “Hey, it’s just me,” I said. “I remember when you, Dad and I went skinny dipping in Virginia on a canoe trip.” “You were seven,” she said. “Come on, Mom. I’ll turn my back and you run and get in. Then you can look somewhere else and I’ll get in. We’ll go in reverse when we get out.” “Do you promise not to look?” she asked. “Of course. I’ll just open a couple of beers while you get in,” I told her. I could hear her rustling around and then ...