Mom camping with son

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“Oh, very proud of yourself, aren’t you?” she said, slightly slurring her words and draining the rest of her drink. “It’s time to perform your duty, good sir,” she thrust her cup in his direction.

Paul laughed. He had forgotten that his mother and father fell into this mock-pseudo-Medieval dialogue when they were drinking. It used to be cute. He was their little page, back in the day. Now he wasn’t sure what he was. “Yes indeed, my fair, uh, Queen? I’m your, um—”

“Knight! You’re my handsome Knight!” she laughed hysterically. “And yes, I am the queen!”

“Uh…yes… um…well, your handsome knight will fetch a liquid refreshment suitable for thy great beauty,” he stuttered and went to get her another, stronger drink. He sucked at being a knight and he wasn’t sure if he had said something wrong. His mother was quiet over there. He was embarrassed and glad that she wouldn’t remember anything in the morning.

“Here you go fair maiden,” he said, kneeling down and offering her the cup as though it was a chalice. He wondered if fair maiden was an appropriate title for a queen or if that was reserved for princesses?

She laughed. “Verily, I am pleased by thy great servitude,” she stumbled on her words, laughed again and took a deep drink.

She took a little longer to finish this one and Paul enjoyed the peace and quite of the darkness and relaxing sounds of the crackling fire. Every once in a while they could hear another camper or children playing off in the distance but overall it was very quiet.

Paul lost himself thinking about his mother while staring into the fire. He loved her and hated to see her like this: drinking herself into oblivion. It had bothered him that she was out of breath during their canoeing session earlier, and he vowed to help her start a training regimen when they got back home.

“Hey, young knight!” his mother called over to him. She was leaning way back in her chair smiling at him and holding out her cup to him. “It’s time to perform your duty, good sir.”

Paul popped up and smiled. “Of course, fair lady,” he said, taking her cup and heading back over to the picnic table and cooler. He decided to make this the strongest one yet.

He hadn’t been paying close attention to how much alcohol he’d been putting in her drinks. He knew it had been a lot, at least double of what his father usually made for her. He brought the fresh concoction over to her, hoping this one would do the trick and knock her out. “Here we are, fair lady,” he said, remaining in character.

“Such a lovely young lord, thine are,” she said. Her eyes were glassy. It was starting to get chilly out and Paul’s eyes nearly popped out of his head as he realized for the first time that night that his mother wasn’t wearing a bra. Her large nipples were poking out against her shirt. He glanced away quickly and retreated to his seat by the fire and back to the games on his phone.

Paul was almost to the next level in his game when his mother’s chair fell sideways, with her in it! He rushed over to his mother. She was laughing hysterically. She still had her cup in her hand. It was empty. “I can’t…shit…baby…I think you better…better,” she giggled.

“I think I better help you to your tent,” Paul said.

“Yes!” She managed to say between fits of laughter.

He grabbed her hand and pulled her up to her feet. She stumbled into him, nearly knocking them both into the fire. It took all of his strength to keep them both on their feet. He was supporting nearly all of her weight.

“Come on…we’re almost there,” he said helping her across the clearing to her tent. He had his arms around her. She shifted against him, stumbling over a rock and in his effort to keep her up, he grabbed one of her large breasts. Her thick nipple was poking hard against his hand. He involuntary squeezed her boob.

His mother sighed and mumbled something into his shoulder. He was devastatingly embarrassed, and to his horror, a little turned on. His cock twitched in his pants. “Shit!” he said too loudly, hurrying his mother along.

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