On Golden Lake Part 1

Blake squinted through the eyepiece of his Nikon, which was perched on a tripod on the railing of his cabin. He scanned the beach in front of Meg's cottage, twisting the lens until the beach was in sharp focus. He saw Justin through the powerful zoom lens first, clad only in his tight little red swim trunks and building an impressively large sand castle at the water's edge. He nudged the camera with his fingertip, up the beach, and was immediately rewarded with the sight of Meg sprawled face down on her beach towel, basking in the already hot rays of the late morning sunshine. He was momentarily disappointed to see that she was lying in profile to him - he had been hoping for a shot of her gorgeous, rounded ass. Ah well, he could be patient.

He took a sip from his cold beer, thankful for the shade of the overhanging porch roof. Not for the first time, he mourned the fact that he would no longer be able to ogle her spectacular tits as she lay topless. No, not with Justin around. But you couldn't have everything. Watching her masturbate through her bedroom window, jacking off together with Justin, and especially sucking the boy's tasty little cock, had more than made up for it. He licked his lips as he relished the memory. This was already a summer to remember.

He thought back to Justin's description of his and Meg's boat trip out on the lake, and he felt his cock twitch with arousal. The thought of that babe and her son watching each other piss was so fucking erotic! And Justin was obviously aroused by what he had seen. And the thong! He was amazed at her boldness - she apparently had no qualms about parading around in front of Justin half-nude. He allowed himself to briefly fantasize about wicked mom and horny son falling into a perverted sexual relationship, then chuckled at his own folly. That shit only happens in porno stories, he told himself.

He squinted through the eyepiece again, and his eyebrows arched with interest. Meg had adjusted her towel to follow the sun's movement across the sky, and was now lying diagonally to him, still on her stomach, and facing slightly away from him. He gazed upon the sculptured beauty of the rounded globes of her ass. Shit, that bathing suit was skimpy! In fact, from this angle, it appeared that she was completely naked. The gentle flare of her hips hid the waistband of the suit, and the narrow string of the thong was completely buried between her ass cheeks. He simply *had* to go over there and sunbathe with her again. He zoomed in as far as the lens would allow, until her prone body completely filled the viewfinder. He snapped off a half-dozen photographs at varying shutter speeds and lens apertures. He wanted to be sure at least one of the photos was a keeper.

Man, she was hot! His unblinking eyes traveled up and down her body, beginning with her slim ankles, up her rounded calves, up the tanned shapely thighs, pausing at her round ass. He noted that her cheeks were much paler than the rest of her body, compliments of the new, more revealing suit. He knew a good ass when he saw one, and this one was damn good. A bit wider and fuller than most men liked, but he liked larger butts.

Her whole body was covered with a shiny layer of perspiration and suntan oil, and Blake licked his lips with his wet tongue. How could Justin resist this? He eased the camera back to where the boy had been crouching in the sand, and chuckled. Well, it turned out that Justin *couldn't* resist. He was half-heartedly building his sand castle, true, but Blake could clearly see that Justin's eyes were trained elsewhere, watching his mother sunbathe. Blake imagined Justin's erection growing, as he gazed with lust at his sexy mom. But he couldn't tell with certainty if Justin really did have a hardon. He was facing away from him, and besides, that amount of detail was probably beyond the capability of the zoom lens.

Blake swiveled the camera on its tripod mount back at Meg. He continued his lusty gaze, starting this time at her ass, then roaming up her tanned, muscular back...wait a minute! He rubbed his eyes and tweaked the focus. "Holy shit," he muttered out loud. "Is she topless?" There definitely wasn't a bra strap interrupting the sleek lines of her back. He squinted into the viewfinder. Yes, she had loosened her straps - he could just barely make them out lying on the towel next to her, and he could see the creamy, smooth sides of her unadorned tits as they pressed into her beach blanket. Blake shook his head in amazement. He couldn't believe she was doing this in front of her horny son. She apparently was clueless about the hormones that rage through the bodies of thirteen-year old boys!

His view was briefly obscured, and then the tanned thin form of Justin filled the viewfinder. He had obviously tired of his sand castle construction, and Blake watched as he sat next to his mother, his gangly legs stretched out in front of him. Now *this* was getting interesting.

*****

Meg put her book aside and stretched her lithe body facedown along the towel, soaking up the warm rays. She wished she could lie topless, but Justin's presence obviously made that impossible. Maybe, though, she could at least loosen the bra straps? She *hated* tan lines.

She glanced over her shoulder at Justin building his sand castle at the water's edge. She noted gratefully that he didn't seem to be paying too much attention to her nearly nude butt...maybe she had been silly to be worried about it. She untied the bra straps, let them fall to her side, and buried her face in the luxurious softness of the beach towel.

She was so relaxed, drifting lazily away in the warm sunshine, and more than a little horny. She fantasized about what she had read in the last chapter of her novel. She imagined herself as the heroine of the story, being taken by the Latin stud. Unconsciously, she pushed her hips into the towel beneath her, stimulating herself.

Through her semi-sleep state, she gradually became aware of a ticklish sensation on her calf. Thinking a fly had landed on her, she flicked her leg absent-mindedly in her dream-like state. But she felt it again, this time higher up her leg, behind her knee. This time, she lifted her head and looked behind her, squinting into the dazzling sunlight. It was Justin. He was kneeling next to her, grasping a large blade of grass in his little fingers, and sliding it along her bare leg.

"Watcha doin' you little stinker?"

Justin began to giggle. "Oh nothin'," he said innocently. "Ticklish?"

"You *know* I am...you used to tickle me all the time."

"I remember." Justin tossed aside the blade of grass and fluttered his fingers along her hip, up toward her waist.

Meg jerked away spasmodically and giggled. "Now you stop that!" she reproached him playfully. She was vaguely aware of the fact that she was wearing a skimpy thong, and of how close his hands were to her naked butt cheeks.

"NO!" laughed Justin, at the same time playful and defiant. And he more insistently fluttered his fingers along the small of her waist. Meg yelped and scooted her hips sideways, giggling and laughing. Almost too late, she remembered she had loosed her bra straps. She clutched the bathing suit top to her loosely hanging breasts.

Justin was half-laying on top of her now, pinning her down on her towel. His insistent fingers were fluttering along her sides, and in her armpits, as she laughed hysterically. "No...NO..." she plead with Justin to stop, but she was out of breath with laughter, and she writhed her body to and fro, trying to escape the tickling fingers.

Justin hooted with laughter, and his mother squirmed as he tickled her mercilessly, laughing and gasping for breath. Justin climbed on top of her, pinning her down. He weighed much less than she did, and Meg could have flipped him off if she had really wanted, but she was enjoying the fun and bonding with her adolescent son.

But through her and Justin's giggles, she was becoming keenly aware of a new sensation. Justin was stretched out on top of her, pressing almost the full weight of his nearly nude body into her sticky, perspiring skin. His crotch was pressed against her naked buttocks, and she could feel the satiny fabric of his swim trunks, still wet from the lake, against her bare skin.

This didn't seem right. "Stop...Stop it Justin!"

But her son was insistent as he pushed down against her. He was fully sprawled along her back, and his legs were pinning hers to the beach towel. Meg could only buck half-heartedly. She was out of breath, and suddenly didn't seem to have the strength to push him off of her. He was still tickling her lightly along her sides, but it was almost more of a caress...his hands moved up to the sides of her breasts, touching her...

She bucked her hips off of the towel, trying to push him away, but he pressed back against her. She could feel something...something not right...pushing against her buttocks. It was a firmness, a hard...Oh God...

A tingle coursed through her groin as Justin humped rapidly against her. But this wasn't right! "STOP IT JUSTIN!" she yelled, and with supreme force of will, she bucked her rear end into the air, and Justin fell away to her side. Mother and son's eyes met briefly, and then he clambered to his feet and ran toward the cabin.