I loaded up my web browser. I searched Mom's on-screen name—Rocksee Dynamite—and clicked on a clip of one of my favorite scenes of her. My ...outh welled with anticipation, the engorged head of my cock looking up at me, twitching—anxious. It ached to slip inside of . . . something. Anything. Preferrably the red head appearing on my screen, my own mother. I pulled on a pair of headphones, and turned the volume full blast, wanting to experience every sound with clarity. The clip went. This day she didn’t wear her headphones.“Hi,” I said.“Oh, look at you, all ready and dressed for success.”I smiled. “Be gentle with me. I am out of shape.”She smacked my stomach. “By the end of April, you will be in a good shape.”Fuck, I thought. That was three months away. The good thing was that she obviously planned to hang out for that long.“Okay, where are we going?” I asked.“Follow me.”She set off at a slow pace that I could actually follow. We ran across the sand and up over the rocks. More

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