Camp Incest: Pegging Mom In Her Tent

I’m lying here, in my tent, listening to my son and his girlfriend argue next door, Apparently, she’s not quite the outdoorsy type I raised my son to be. He tears out of their tent, pacing around our little campsite, angry, frustrated, and from the strain at the front of his jeans, quite…um…aroused.
I invite him in my tent, offer some motherly words of wisdom and encouragement. But then I give those tight, stressed shoulders a rub, the feel of his body under my hands, the deep ache from between my own legs – soon I’m out of control. We’re out of control, losing our way without ever stepping from our tent.
The late autumn air is cool, but my tent is hot as we touch, caress, kiss, disrobe…and soon we’re rutting like a couple of wild animals, my dear son ravishing my body like a bear in heat…and I can’t get enough…