Mom's Big Bed Ch. 15

Mom's Big Bed Part Fifteen

Holly's RV pulled up to the dock where the houseboat was moored. Popping open the door, my crazy collection of female relations spilled out; along with myself, Holly, and her hot little daughter Tonya. Everyone was ready to party but there was still work to be done.

The other vehicles in the cackling hippy concubine convoy pulled up right behind us and everyone pitched in unloading the RV and the cars. We began moving everything from sleeping bags to food; up onto the dock and then onto the boat.

Come to think of it, "boat" really isn't a good description. How in the hell do I want to describe this thing? Oh yeah... imagine this; the Playboy Mansion gets drunk and has sex with Bruce Wayne's yacht, (and both fucking parented this "floating love child" of a house boat).

If you can picture that in your head, you'd have a good image of what I'm talking about. I'm telling you; if the RV of Holly's was tricked out... this houseboat of hers made it look like an AMC Pacer with a broken window by comparison. Holy shit!

The houseboat had been originally owned by a guy from Mexico who I guess you might want to describe as an importer of "illicit and non-taxable pharmaceuticals." He apparently spared no expense at building this floating palace because business was good and it wasn't like the demand for his product line was ever gonna dry up in the States, right? One thing led to another and the law caught up with him on this side of the border. Too bad, so sad. Some people don't know how to be low key and live without drawing attention to themselves I guess.

Anyhow this guy skips town, the country, and if rumors are true... the continent; leaving a bunch of high priced assets just lying around for a judge to pound a gavel on and seize in the absence of an arrest. Holly knew a good thing when she saw it and snatched it up at a seizure auction a year or so before. Like I said, her business had been doing well... she might as vacation in style accordingly. According to still more rumors; she picked that big floating whorehouse up for a song compared to its real value.

The only thing was she had to move the boat from Los Angeles, (where it had been seized and where the auction had taken place), back to Lake Havasu. That was an enormous pain in the ass in itself but she did it. She saw the boat... she wanted it... she bought it. End of story. Holly is like that.

The insides of the ship were to say the least swanky, (or as my mom would say "opulent"). The master bedroom had a king-sized bed and master bath with full amenities (as to be expected), but there was also a full blown king-sized bed in the guest-stateroom, a full working kitchen, and pantry wine-closet combination, (not to mention a dining room).

Then of course there was an entertainment room with a fake fireplace, a bar, and a massive wrap-around couch unit. It turns out; that unit could be pushed together so that its two halves formed an enormous bed, (colossal really when you added the two Ottomans in the middle of the room and moved the coffee table). There was a broad flat screen on the wall of the entertainment room, (plus smaller one's in every room of the boat, for that matter). But wait that's not all, oh hell no!

Up on the deck above the living area there were several built in lounge sofas located on a special observation deck. The top deck it turns out had special reinforced steel beams to hold the combined weight of a spillover hot tub and infinity pool, plus a pool shower. Added to this to all this weight was the wheelhouse, set forward on the upper deck. Yes, apparently there was good money in illicit big-pharma and this "humble house-boat" was a testament to that very fact.

We set about moving the supplies to the pantry and then discussed sleeping arrangements. It was decided that any "spill-over" of people not handled by the beds and the couch units could sleep in bags on the floor or out in the RV. A few of my cousins opted for the RV option, (as this meant they could make midnight runs to town for more booze, snacks, partying opportunities, and weed).

"Speaking of booze," my grandma said, "I'm going to trot on over to that liquor supply across the parking lot where the beer truck just pulled into. You know, the one with the cow-girl trucker who flashed me? I want to see if I can get any more bargains for beer before we shove off!"

"I'll go with ya," Holly chimed in, "we're good for wine but we're running low on gin, tequila, and scotch behind the bar. I'm afraid our last party out here on the boat diminished our supplies."

The two left for the booze store and we kept unpacking for about forty-five minutes. It was ironic because two ladies left, but three came back! Apparently there had been a conversation at the store and in addition to Grandma and Holly lugging booze, there was the cowgirl trucker with her Stetson lugging both a twelve-pack and a green duffel bag. She'd unhooked her rig and parked her semi over by our RV. It was quite evident she was coming with us on this excursion.

"Oh well," Mom commented to my Auntie Maria, "the more the merrier!"

"Hey everyone," Holly announced to the group of us as the three women came back aboard, "this is Goldie. She is the lady trucker Grandma was flashing the tits to coming up the interstate! We just COULDN'T leave her behind on shore!"

"Hello everyone," Goldie answered with a lovely British accent, "it's a pleasure to be here, if it's no trouble!" Yes I said 'British.' She looked like she'd stepped out of an episode of Hee Haw and sounded like Downton Abbey. It floored me too... in a pleasant and intriguing way.

"Oh no trouble at all," sniffed Grandma, "why after seeing you flash us back on the road...and then after talking to you in the booze-mart, we knew you were our sort of people!"

So it was easy as that. The senior hippy in the operation had spoken and there was no more to be said. That's the really cool thing about my Grandma... she'll pick up total strangers and cart them along on adventures without thinking twice. She is definitely one of those weed smoking "citizen of the world" types.

Anyhow... it didn't matter much now. Just as Grandma had no sooner tossed Goldie's duffel bag aboard, Holly's lovely ass headed up to the wheelhouse. A minute later and the engines of that floating cathouse roared to life. With Tanya and my sister casting off the bow and the stern, we lurched away from the peer underway... looking for trouble and mischief. It didn't take long to find it either!

The hippy coven that made up my family by now had changed into swimwear and I had donned a set of swim trunks and sandals. In the spirit of the event, Goldie disappeared into the main sleep cabin and emerged a few minutes later in this absolutely teensy weensy blue string micro-kini but still wearing her cowboy hat and boots. I couldn't help but check out her ass under her spaghetti string thong as my grandma waived her over to the bar; having already mixed up a drink for her new found girlfriend.

Several of the women in the family had already been down to the bar and made up drinks for the excursion. As it turned out, I was one of the last people in the family whose hand wasn't occupied with a drink. Mom skipped in from the outer deck in her orange thong bikini and when she saw me with nothing cool at the end of my wrist... she decided to rectify the problem. What the hell, she was already coming back in to make her second drink... it only made sense to make sure I had one too!

"Here you go Ian," she said to me not two minutes later, handing me a margarita from behind the bar, "it's the perfect way to start out Spring Break... a good ole fashioned margarita that is heavy as fuck, on the tequila! Now don't mind me but I'm gonna have one too."

As Mom mixed her drink, I listened to Grandma n' Goldie cackling away at the bar as they casually sipped drinks and glanced out the window while bits of lake Havasu passed outside. I pieced together Goldie's story bit by bit as the two chatted.

It seemed that Goldie had become fed up with her office job in the south of Britain and somehow a wild hair had sprouted in her delightfully tight little ass. She quit... (quit outright as it turns out), and started over with a journey. The details of her odyssey were murky but at some point, she ended up on this side of the Atlantic with a substantial sum of money. Also at some point, she had in her possession both a work Visa and a license to not only drive... but to drive great big commercial semi-trucks. Just how long it had taken her, I'm not sure but she seemed well-versed in the details of American cities and what's more, American lifestyle and customs by the way she spoke and offered up small details about America and its people. In short, she wasn't bullshitting.

I also couldn't help but notice that Grandma and Goldie had a bit of "older woman and younger woman" chemistry going... they were flirting, and flirting hard. As mom settled around to my side of the bar to stand next to me, at my other side I could see Grandma's hand running up and down Goldie's leg. It just so happened Goldie's hand was busy reciprocating on Grandma's thigh. They kept their eyes locked on one another; just like Mom and I were not even there. Oh yeah, Grandma found a lady playdate... and it looked hot what was happening between the two of them!

My cock began to stiffen up and rise beneath my trunks. Mom noticed this and pulled in even closer to me... mischievously sliding a hand down into my trunks to grab my gronk. I retaliated by wrapping an arm around Mom's hip and coming down from the other side beneath the front of her little orange thong to stroke her clit as she sipped her drink.

At some point in the conversation, Goldie shot a glance our way. She stopped for a second. She just stared.

"Wait," she said, "so is he the boy of that lady running the boat upstairs?"

"Nope," Mom cut into the conversation, "he's my son and my youngest child. He just turned eighteen."

"And she," Grandma finished, "is my daughter in law and he is my grandson. Son of my late son who passed away a few years back."

"Wait," Goldie said, "so it's true, then? I thought you might be kidding when we first started flirting at the beer mart. You really are all swingers and sort of a free-love caravan of hippies who practice 'familial relations' on a whole different level?"

"Is this a problem, honey?" Grandma asked, sounding serious but stroking Goldie's inner thigh.

"Darling," Goldie replied, seizing my grandma's hand and pushing her fingers under the front triangle of her micro-kini where they would have proper access to her snatch, "I have been swinging from one end of your country to the other. I am out on Fetlife, Adult Friend Finder, and a dozen other swing sites and the whole purpose of that rig is to bring me to adventures like this. Your familial arrangements don't merely intrigue me... in fact they're right up my alley, my THING even!"

A chuckle of relief rose up from all present. It was clear that Goldie was "one of us." Even if she wasn't related, she was riding close to our wavelength frequency. My mom had just one question.

"So why 'Goldie?' I mean, it's not your hair color," Mom observed with her hand absent-mindedly pumped my cock that she'd now yanked from my pants and was jerking for all to see.

"Let's just say," said Goldie reaching over and joining her hand with my mom's on my now rigidly stiff dong, "that if you get too much booze in me, you'll stand a good chance o' findin out. Hope this place has a nice shower n' drain system!"

"You mean?" Mom asked as she moved Goldie's hand to a favorable position on my cock so that both women were now able to touch and feel my shaft. She was sharing me, her boy ... her man... her lover, with this new woman as a gesture of good will.

"I do," Goldie answered matter of factly, "I simply delight in the pleasure of pee. I love it sprayed from a cock.... or gushing from a cunt! I'm a hot horny bi woman with a piss fetish... and I make no bones about it!"

Oh yeah, Goldie wasn't merely close to our wavelength frequency of kink... she was riding right bang on it! Grandma leaned over, kissing Goldie sweetly on the neck and shoulders as she continued to stroke the lady trucker's twat before she whispered,

"I believe I've chosen well!" Goldie giggled and nodded in agreement as she continued to stroke my cock along with my mother in a wonderful masturbatory massage.

We made small talk and fondled each other for a few minutes; letting the booze do its thing to our inhibitions, (which I am not convinced we'd brought on this trip anyhow). After a bit, Mom suggested we go topside to see how Holly was progressing in the wheelhouse. Drinks in hand we headed up to "the bridge."

We found Holly standing at the helm, hair flowing in the oncoming rush of wind through the open window... looking beautifully majestic in her robe that just barely covered her emerald green thong ...and delightfully decadent bangin hot MILF ass! It was a little anti-climactic that we were on a desert lake instead of open ocean but hey, can't have everything I guess.

Mom flung her arms over Holly from behind and kissed her on the neck. She handed Holly her margarita and whispered in her ear in between little neck-nibbles for her to have a sip.

"Is that wise," Holly replied, "having me drink while steering this house boat?"

"You a cop?" cackled Grandma who'd stopped hugging Goldie long enough to light a joint and hand it to Holly after taking a hit.

Mom held the wheel for a second as Holly took both a sip and a hit. She waited a second for the tequila and Grandma's special blend of dirty-old-hippy-lady ditch-weed to take effect, then she nodded her head and resumed her duties at the wheel, a squeaky giggle escaping her lips. It was gonna be one FUCKED UP excursion - that was for sure; based on our captain's current state of affairs. By the hoots and hollers coming from outside, Holly was easily the soberest one on the boat!

Mom now took her margarita back from Holly and pushed me up behind the "captain." She dropped my trunks to my feet and started yanking and tugging my junk into a fierce boner. When Mom was satisfied with my stiffness, she then had Holly bend forward ever-so-slightly at the waist as she guided my cock up to her friends snatch from the rear; pulling Holly's thong aside in the process.

Grandma put her joint to my lips for a hit and then I sipped my drink while commencing a standing fuck of our "helms-lady," Holly. Mom, Grandma, and Goldie all cuddled to one side, ogling our fuckery, sipping their drinks, sharing Grandma's joint and generally fondling the shit out of each other. It was all Holly could do just to keep the boat straight... not that she fucking cared by now!

A fresh "funny-ciggie" found its way to Holly's lips. She giggled some more, both from the weed and from the pickle-tickle my prick was giving her insides. I leaned forward and bit and chewed her back and shoulders, running my hands up and around under her bikini top to find her breasts and pinch her nipples. The boat moved forward along the lake's surface to our destination, (if Holly could remember where the fuck it was she was going).

I didn't care. Her cunt was giving my cock a nice warm wet squeeze, plus I had a drink in one hand n' Holly's tits in the other. I was happily rolling her swollen nipples between my thumb fingers, giving her little teases and making her sigh. At one point she leaned back to kiss me and said,

"Ian, have you ever driven a boat?"

"No," I answered. The most I'd ever done was paddle a kayak at summer camp.

"How would you like to drive this party-boat and my pussy at the same time?"

She didn't have to ask me twice. I dropped her tits and took the great wooden wheel, reaching beneath her arms. She picked up where I had left off, rubbing her tits and pulling on her nipples like they were stuck dresser drawer knobs... all while I sawed my cock back n forth in her puss-pit from behind.

Steering a boat was like steering a car for me... only bigger. It wasn't too tasking, despite the fact that I'd begun to feel the effect of my drink and my grandma had given me another hit off her weed, (which was making me feel a more than a little bit mellow by now). This was the life, balls deep in a beautiful MILF, steering her boat, three women snuggled up next to you with a drink in your hand. It looked and felt like a bad 1980s video that was - OH SO GOOD!

This went on for several minutes; me churning up Holly's puss-pipe and her stroking her nips. She told me to steer the boat to a point of land waaaay, way out ahead of us; then she shut her eyes as her hand found her clit.

We began to rut faster and faster. I wasn't really doing a very good job of steering but nobody on this crazy fucked up cruise cared. They were either cackling and laughing or fondling and making out (or moaning and gasping like crazy - as was the case of me and Holly). We kept going at it for another couple of minutes, hell bent for leather; me wrecking Holly's pussy like I was trying to break it and she, flipping her bean like she was mad at it; right up until we both began to shudder and bawl.

Holly arched her back and shrieked hard as my mouth found her neck. Right then I came, my cock blasting a big salty load up her squeezing baby-maker as she furiously rubbed her clit and called me every nasty fucking name under the sun. A few shudders out of her later and her girly-dew was running freely. It was spilling everywhere; trickling down her thighs, my cock, and my balls and leaving a huge dew puddle at her feet. We collapsed on each other for support, laughing and gasping in the afterglow as Mom, Grandma, and Goldie cheered us on.

"Let me take the wheel back, Ian." Holly requested, explaining,

"You got us to the landmark along the shore where I need to turn."

"Turn?" I asked turning over the wheel to her,

"There!" she said, pointing out the right out of the wheel house over to our right.

Far out far across the lake at the opposite shore was a MASSIVE beach party, (and if you put your head out the window and listened, you could hear it clearly, despite our own music being played). Oh, and party didn't begin to describe it adequately.

The shore was choked with people... there was a stage too. I could see also a large flotilla of boats pulled up to the shore. It looked like a boozed up sex crazed regatta that had transformed itself into a bit of a traffic jam. The water in that little cove was literally filled to the brim with boats, jet skis, inner tubes, and drunk men and women. We turned... and headed for THAT!

It took us a while to get there. We were big as boats went, not fast. Holly had cut our speed in half too, cautious of people and objects that might lay ahead of us. It was then my Grandma made a suggestion.

"Goldie, do you want to taste my grandson's nut? His cum is quite yummy, (even if I am a bit biased being his grandma n' all)."

My grandmother pointed to Holly's lovely rump and Goldie nodded giggling. She and my grandma dropped down to their knees next to Holly and myself. Holly sensing what was about to happen, bent forward slightly over the wheel while pulling her thong to one side. There was a generous dribble of my ball-sauce was leaking from her snatch and Goldie wasted no time shoving her face up in Holly's lovely rear. She wrapped her lips around Holly's twat taco and commenced slurping out as much of my nut butter as she could manage.