Group, incest, orgy, strangers, friends, hand-job, foot-job, titty fucking, creampie, anal.
"Do you have everything?"
Trishia peeked into his bedroom, a bottle of sunscreen in one hand, bug spray in the other.
"Mooom! I'm nineteen! I can pack my own...oh! Thanks!"
Bobby took the sunscreen, bug spray from his mom, slipped them into a Ziplock bag, sealed it and threw it into his half-full suitcase.
Bobby's mom was nervous, her only son off to Band Camp for the summer! His first long-term trip away from home.
They'd been close since Bobby was born, and then closer when Trish's husband died. From four years on, it was just the two of them, through thick and thin.
Bobby zipped closed, hefted the suitcase off his bed, sat it on the floor.
Hand on hips, he faced his mother, already looking forlorn.
"This is gonna be harder on you, than on me!"
She managed a small smile. "My baby! Flying the nest! Leaving me!"
"Oh Mom. It's just for the summer. Then I'll be back!"
"But then off to college! After that, I'll never see you again!"
Bobby softened. This was indeed hard on a single Mom. They'd depended on each other for his whole life. Leaving was going to seem strange to him too.
He took two steps, enfolded her in a hug.
She needed it! Nearly weepy, she snuffled, hugged him back. Broke the clinch, and not looking at him turned and went into the kitchen.
"I've packed some snacks! For the bus!"
He followed her, rolling his bag behind.
"It's just two hours, how hungry will I get?"
Trish handed him a paper bag, stuffed with sandwiches and cookies.
"Then share it with your bunkmates when you arrive. I know teenagers! They can eat any amount of food."
"True." Bobby took the bag just as a horn honked.
"That's my ride!"
Excited, he hurried to the front door, grabbed his jacket and instrument case, headed out.
They'd said their goodbyes and Bobby didn't want his ride seeing some weepy scene. It was his music teacher, the band director, Mr. Blake.
Trish followed, and as he heaved his gear into the trunk she was leaning down to talk through the driver's window.
"Mr. Blake! Thanks for doing this!"
Mr. Blake was always glad to talk to Trish, especially when leaning over with her arms on the car door, her breasts visible through the skimpy halter tops she liked in the summer.
"No problem, Trish! I'm going that way anyway. And with three members of our High School band attending, it only makes sense to carpool!"
Their High School band had won several regional events, qualifying some of their members for the Prestigious Men's Band of the Rockies, and invitation-only drill-and-practice boot camp for college-bound Senior Men. There was a similar program for the women, they were carpooling with the Women's Soccer coach.
Bobby had climbed in the back seat, was greeting his bandmates.
"Ok? Everybody buckled up? We're off! Say goodbye to Bobby's Mom!"
They all called out Goodbye Trish! as the car pulled away, in high spirits and glad for the opportunity to get away from home for a good long time.
Trish was still waving when the car turned the corner and headed for the highway.
She thought Bobby looks so like his father. He'll be attracting the college women like flies to honey.
Trish's thoughts had been turning to such topics lately. Fifteen years without a mate had left her hungry for male companionship.
Bobby was great, the best kid ever, but she needed a man that she could cuddle, sleep with. Take a shower with. Fuck, like Bobby fucked his last girlfriend, Bethany.
She lived vicariously through her son's relationships, having no life of her own outside work and Bobby.
Jesus Trish! Get ahold of yourself! Bobby will be fine, it's all boys at this camp. Except for the gay guys, there will be no hanky-panky going on there.
Bobby was definitely interested in the girls. He'd had a revolving door of girlfriends since Junior High, none ever lasting a whole school year.
His schoolmates kidded him, with that at home, how could schoolgirls compete? And it was true, nobody could really measure up.
Trish was a looker, fit and round in all the right places, a great smile and great legs. Outgoing, ready to join in, welcome on any school committee or to organize a block party. Especially by the male members of the school committees.
There were rumors she'd been a Playboy Bunny in her youth. It was not all that much a stretch to imagine it had been true! She was still very much bunny material, except for her age.
In fact, she had been. Would still like to be, the best time of her young life! Except they had a cutoff around thirty, which Trish had passed some decade ago.
"Hi! I'm Bobby!"
The other five men in the cabin got up and greeted him. Clearly, they'd all just arrived, had claimed bunks and were putting stuff away. None of them from his school, they separated them, so everyone had someone new to get to know.
"Hey Bobby! I'm Jack! You get the top bunk!"
Bobby was OK with that. An only child, he'd never had bunkbeds, it appealed to him.
He shook hands with the other four, Trent, Fuller, Jacob, Mike. Have to get their names down, it wouldn't take long, Bobby was a quick study, could memorize a piece of music with just one or two run-throughs.
Their gear took only a minute, nobody had much, and the instruments had been taken to the music hall already.
What to do? No schedule until orientation after lunch, so they sat on their bunks and shot the breeze.
"You got a girlfriend Bobby?" That from Fuller, a short man, dark skin, easy smile. Probably had all the girlfriends he wanted, with those muscles. A wrestler as well as a French Horn player, all about discipline. With those pecs and those lips, the girls would be lining up.
"Nah. Had one at the beginning of the year, but she's off to Wellesley, all-female school, we decided long-distance wasn't right for us."
"Oh! So, a player! What does your dad think about that?"
He colored; his mates had always thought him too easy, one girlfriend after another. But it wasn't like that!
He and his mom were close, she was his first priority. Not many women could tolerate that for long.
"It's just me and my mom, since I was little! No Dad to give me shit. He died when I was very little, I only remember him from pictures."
The others thought that would be awesome, no dad to give you grief, though Trent pitied him. Trent and his dad had a great relationship, he couldn't imagine growing up without one.
"So you a Momma's boy?" Jacob was the clown in the crew, brash and chatty, not afraid to say what the others were thinking.
"No! I mean, sure I love my mom." That got Ooohs! and laughs, but good-natured; didn't every young man love his mom?
"And since it's just the two of us, I guess I am, a little."
"She a MILF? A hottie?"
Bobby glared at Jacob, a little annoyed.
"She's very nice, thank you."
"Oh! Ok, a horse-faced schoolmarm then."
Jesus! That was uncalled-for!
"No! She's pretty! She used to be a Playboy Bunny! In college. Before I was born." Gotta stand up for Mom, but he'd said too much.
That electrified the group. They all had to know everything now.
"Does she have bazongas?" "All legs and butt and tits?" "Did she wear the ears and tail!" "Did she do modelling too? Online?" "You got a picture of her?"
He ignored all that, but for the last bit. Pulled out his wallet, flipped open to a picture of him and his mom, fishing!
Mom had caught a pretty good trout, was holding it up with one arm, the other around Bobby's shoulders, smiling big.
Shapely arms, fit. She was wearing one of her halter tops, boy-shorts, fishing hat. Left her tanned shoulders, her belly very visible, still taut and strong.
And her tits, freckled from the outdoors, those straps stretched way out to reach around, barely contained by that halter, side-boob generously evident. Clearly Bunny material.
Silence for a heartbeat as they crowded around to look.
Then Pandemonium!
"You horndog! You grew up with that?" "What a MILF!" "Did she bring guys around all the time? Screw their brains out?" "Gotta get me a handful of that!"
Bobby colored, maybe upset, maybe indignant, a little. But definitely proud. He was protective of his mom, but also very much aware that men desired her.
"She was raising a kid! Me! She was very proper, all the time I was growing up. An insurance adjuster, responsible and professional."
The lunch bell sounded, ending the speculation. They hopped down, made a ragged group to the hall, one among a dozen other such groups of new friends.
Lunch was good. Camps have to do a first-rate job with the food, or nobody comes back. This one was simple, fried hamburgers and buns, a salad bar, battered fried broccoli. Healthy, sort of. And simple for the first day, the Camp crew just getting going.
Orientation was a tour around the facility, mixed with short talks about rules and expectations. Not a lot of restrictions, an open campus. But hey where would you go? It was miles down a mountain road to a little town, just a bend in the road with a gas station, convenience store.
