Single Mom and Campsite Neighbor Get Close in this Sweet and Spicy Romance, Erotica Micro-Story. Enjoy!
Author’s Note: This story is available on my site so you can get a feel for the kind of story I write. My erotic novellas and short stories are extra spicy, meaning the sex is plentiful and explicit. With my stories you don’t have to read two hundred pages before the action starts, not that there’s anything wrong with that. If you enjoy the writing that follows, you can download a free copy of my novella, The Girlboss Chronicles and/or you can sign up for my newsletter that will feature mirco-stories like the one that follows. Thanks for visiting and thanks for supporting my work. Love! 💋SC
“Mommy. I’m hungry. What’s taking so long?”
Instead of immediately answering my six-year-old, Chance, I took a deep breath and counted to three.
“Mommy! I’m hungry!” He was louder this time, and I couldn’t blame him. I knew this car camping thing was a bad idea.
Back in the late 90s, my dad had packed up our mini-van and taken my brother and I to this same park when I was my son’s age. Those visits remained the very best memories of my dad.
It was a couple of months after our second summer of camping when he’d left us. I’d found out years later he’d had a drug problem and had run off with another addict, only to overdose and die in an alley somewhere in NYC.
“Mommy!” This time, my son screamed.
I threw down the tent pole I was trying to thread through part 7A on the instructions and turned to my son. “Chance O’Brien, if you don’t let your mother figure this out, we won’t have anywhere to sleep tonight.”
“Mommy, I’m hungry, and camping sucks. There’s bugs. We’ve been here forever, and I’m bored!”
As I stared at my son, I took in another deep breath, counted to three, and instead of reprimanding him for his shitty attitude, I walked to the cooler, opened it, grabbed a container with snacks and walked it over to him.
I was raised by a single mom who had to work two jobs. My brother was in jail because he was a drug dealer. Now, I, too, was a single mom working two jobs, and making ends meet was harder than ever. But I’d scrimped and saved to afford the equipment and food for this trip, so I wasn’t going to put up with anyone’s complaining. Call it abuse or tough love, but I wasn’t having any of it from my little man.
I shoved the snacks into his tiny hand, but before I could start to unload my frustrations on him, I heard a voice behind me.
“Hey, neighbor. Do you need a hand with your tent?”
My teeth ground together. The voice was male, and at the moment, I fucking hated men. They were good for nothing. Worse than that, when they did do something, they usually fucked it up, or worse, they hurt you.
But before I could turn around and tell Mr. Fucking Helpful that I didn’t need his “hand,” my son blurted out, “Hey, mister. My mom can’t figure out the tent. You gotta tent. A fancy one. Can you help us?”
I squeezed my eyes shut, took my third deep breath in as many minutes, and reminded myself that camping was supposed to be relaxing and that people who camped were supposed to be one with nature and probably weren’t assholes. Probably.
Slowly, I turned to face my real-life Ned Flanders.
But instead of finding a middle-aged dude with a cheesy mustache and glasses, standing before me was a lean guy whose arms and legs were covered in a swirl of tattoos. If I had to guess, he was maybe ten years older than me. I could see hints of grey in his hair.
He was mildly handsome, if in a granola-crunching, surfer-dude kind of way. His face was cleanly shaven, and he had thick black hair he’d placed into a messy man bun atop his head.
Beside him was a little girl with her own incredible mop of red hair. I didn’t see a physical resemblance between the two, but there had to be some kind of close connection because the girl had a handhold of the man’s rough-looking jean shorts.
I must have been staring a bit too long at the little girl because granola dude took a few steps toward me, offered his hand, and said, “My name is River. Is everything okay?”
My eyes finally snapped to his. “Yeah. Yeah. I’m all good. Your daughter. Her hair. It’s stunning.”
A friendly, blazing smile flexed onto the man’s face. “Daisy is my niece. My sister’s campsite is just down the road. We just popped in to collect a few things we need for the beach. We’re heading there now if you want to come?”
I thumbed toward my tent and, in a bitter tone, said, “Sorry, my rubric’s cube of a tent isn’t cooperating. Maybe by this time tomorrow, I’ll have it figured out.”
“Yeah, I’d noticed that. Can we give you a hand? I’m pretty good with these things. We can have it up in ten minutes, and then you can grab your beach stuff. It’s too nice an afternoon not to be by the water. Come hang out with us and chill.”
I blew out a huge breath, but before I could reply, declining his help, he said cheerily, “Listen, I know it’s weird nowadays for people to accept help from perfect strangers, and I don’t want to imply that you can’t set up everything on your own, but where I come from, it’s still okay for neighbors to help neighbors.”
My eyes narrowed, and I said, “Then you must be from the 1980s because in my world, ain’t nobody helping nobody.”
My tone must have been more edgy than I’d intended because the smile on his face began to recede.
Fuck Trinity, I mentally scolded myself. Not every guy on this planet is a douche bag and what was his name…? River. Yeah, that was it. River had it right, it’s too nice a day to mess around with a stupid tent. Maybe there are still a few nice guys out there?
Aloud, I said, “I’m sorry. I’m being a bitch. Today’s been kinda rough. I’ve never done this as an adult before and everything is a bit harder than I remember. Maybe… if you don’t mind, I could use your help.”
The man’s smile was back with a vengeance. “I’d be thrilled. Why don’t we do this? Let’s go to the beach and connect with my sis. If you don’t think we’re a pair of serial killers carting around our beautiful red-haired love child, why don’t you leave your son with Sky? Then we’ll come back, and I’ll help you get everything organized. Together, it won’t take us thirty minutes.”
My lips pinched together in thought. “Wait, your name is River, your sister is a Sky, and your niece is a Daisy. Your parents were hippies, weren’t they?”
“As hippie as hippies can get.”
I turned to my son. “What do you say? Do you want to go to the beach and hang out with Daisy for a bit?”
Chance’s gaze moved from mine to the girl standing behind her uncle. When their eyes connected, there was a flash of innocence as they smiled at one another.
My son was shy around girls, but once the ice had been broken, Daisy and her mom would have a tough time getting a word in. It was a reminder that I couldn’t take too long getting our equipment set up.
Returning my eyes to River, I said, “Looks like he’s game. Let me grab a few things, and we’ll see if my Spidey sense starts tingling when I meet this sister of yours. It’s been a bit since my last encounter with a family of serial killers.”
The day had been great.
As it turned out, River and Sky were some of the kindest and nicest people I’d ever met. He’d helped me set up the tent and arrange the other key parts of the setup and then we’d gone back to the beach and had a wonderful afternoon of hanging out.
As laid-back hippies, they were incredibly easygoing. We spent the afternoon and well into the evening chatting, smoking some amazing weed, and I had one of the most unforgettable, grandest days I’d had in a long, long time.
As we sat around River’s campfire and watched Chance and Daisy roast marshmallows, I asked, “So, this is a kind of a personal question, but what are two doctors doing hanging out in a state park car camping? Shouldn’t you guys be vacationing somewhere exotic?”
It was Sky who answered, “We’re just not into material things, and every year from the time we were babies until we were in college, our parents would take us camping. Nothing fancy. Just state parks and tents, just like you see here.
“River and I hated it when we were teens, but the last time we went as a family, River was a junior, and I was a sophomore in college, and we’d come to love it. We had to let it go when we were in med school, and there was the year when our dad was ill, but aside from those times, we’ve kept it up. We love America’s state parks. With the country so divided and with so many ill people, it’s three days we use to ground us. I only wish we could do it more often.”
“Mommy, can I have another marshmallow?” Chance asked, interrupting the conversation.
“No honey, you’ve had enough. More than enough. In fact, it’s nearly 11, so it’s way past your bedtime. I think it’s time we said goodnight to everyone.”
“But mom!” Chance cried out, but before I could begin the process of rationalizing his sugar-addled brain toward the idea of sleep from across the campfire, River jumped into the conversation, “Chance, buddy. Tomorrow’s a big day. We’re going to the zoo, and I promise, if you listen to your mom, I will get you the biggest and best ice cream sundae you’ve ever had.”
My son’s eyes shot to River’s. “Banana split?” he cried out.
“The best banana split in the world. It’s so good my man, you’ll dream of it for years to come.”
Before I knew it, Chance was out of his seat and was beside me. “Did you hear that, Mommy? River is gonna get me a sundae!”
It took thirty more minutes, but eventually, I got Chance into his sleeping bag atop the air mattress River had helped me pump up. I lay with him until I was certain he was asleep. When his breathing was deep and regular, I quietly slithered to the tent entrance and returned to the warm night air and the sound of River’s guitar.
During our time at the campfire, he’d sung several songs, and with the exception of one tune he’d forgotten the words to, I’d been impressed.
In high school, my only extracurricular had been the school choir, and I’d only sang in it during my freshman and sophomore years, but from that experience, I knew enough about music to understand River was mildly talented.
Looking at his campsite, I could see the fire was still burning and that he remained seated in the same position he’d been in all night. He was strumming the guitar, but he wasn’t singing.
While I watched him from the darkness, I debated the course of action I had been thinking about for most of the evening.
From the moment he’d introduced himself to me, River had been incredibly kind and a consummate gentleman. In my world, he was the equivalent of a unicorn – a mythical beast you desperately wanted to be real, but you knew didn’t exist.
Had River been a guy who ran in the circles I ran in, he would have dropped several less-than-subtle pickup lines the moment he set foot on my campsite earlier that day.
This made me wonder whether my idea to visit him at this late hour might be a waste of time and an embarrassment for us both. Again, their kindness knowing no bounds, River and Sky had invited Chance and me to join them on a trip to a local zoo in the morning.
If I walked over to him and did what I was thinking of doing, and he demurred or, worse, blew me off like a presumptuous tart, then tomorrow could be awkward. Like so awkward that I might not want to go on their little excursion.
But something was pulling at me. At the very least, something was telling me to pop next door and tell River how much today meant to me and to Chance. Everything had been so wonderful.
On reaching the flickering light that was the outer limit of his campfire, I said, “Hey there, neighbor.”
From wherever he’d been, on hearing my voice, River’s eyes refocused, and he looked in my direction. “You’re back. Is everything okay?”
“Everything is fine. Actually, it’s better than fine. I just wanted to say how much I appreciated your help today. And to say that both you and your sister were very kind to Chance and I. I didn’t get too far into the details of my life today, but this trip… well, let’s just say if I needed to make a car repair or have an appliance fixed sometime in the past couple of months, we wouldn’t be here.”
River gestured to the seat beside him and said, “Have a seat.”
I did.
“Your thanks isn’t necessary, but I appreciate it. Sky and I have been blessed beyond measure, and while the world is crazier than ever, our parents instilled in us the gift of trusting others and being generous with what we have. It hasn’t always worked in our favour, but it also hasn’t stopped us from trying to engage with those who come into our lives. This world needs more love.”
My lips shifted to the side of my face, and as I gave River a quizzical look, my index finger tapped my mouth.
Smiling, River said, “It looks like you want to say something.”
“Why are you alone?” I asked neutrally.
“Alone,” he repeated the word while arching one of his eyebrows.
“Yes, alone. You don’t have a girlfriend or wife. At least you haven’t mentioned anyone all day, and you dote over your niece like she’s the only six-year-old in the world. It’s intense but also adorable. It’s clear you take your relationship with her very seriously, which to me at least, suggests you’re not interested in having a child of your own.”
I quickly added, “Sorry to be so forward — I’m just trying to figure you out.”
If River was put off by my question, he didn’t show it. “And why are you trying to figure me out?” he asked.
“Honestly, I’m not sure. Five minutes ago, I was debating on whether or not I should come over and ask you if you wanted a commitment-free blowjob, but something inside of me is telling me to push beyond the offer of one-time head.”
When River started to chuckle, I asked, “Is something funny?”
As his soft laughter trailed away, he said, “I don’t think I’ve been propositioned like that before, is all. I kinda like it.”
I tilted my head sideways as I looked deep into his hazel eyes. “So, to be clear, are you saying you’d like me to suck you off?”
Deadpan, River said, “To answer your earlier question about my relationship status, my wife died a year ago – well, a year ago and two weeks. She was depressed, and one day, I came home from work and…”
“Oh dear, River. I’m so sorry,” I said, quickly adding, “Just forget I said anything. Here, you and your sister have been so kind and generous, and trashy me just waltzes up to you out of the blue and asks to suck you off. Jesus, I have the shame of a fucking alley cat.”
I moved to get up, but before my backside could leave the canvas of the chair, River’s hand landed on top of mine, and he said in a voice that was both quiet and urgent, “Don’t leave.”
I stopped my ascent, and tentatively, my eyes found his. He was staring at me, but instead of the kindness that had been there all day, his eyes were now filled with a look of hunger. Just above the crackling of the fire, River said, “It’s been a long time, Trinity.”
Just as quiet, I said, “Where?”
“My tent.”
“Okay, let’s go.”
Hanging from the ceiling of River’s tent was a thin cord with a couple of green glow sticks. Car camping favourites, the green light filled the tent’s interior, giving it an alien feel. Had I not experienced the colour during childhood, I might have found it creepy, but I had, so I found the soft emerald glow endearing.
After quietly sealing us into his tent, I motioned for River to sit on the side of his bougie camping bed. Unlike our air mattress, which lay on the tent’s floor, his bed had a matrix of legs, making it the perfect height for the service I was about to give.
Getting down to my knees, I placed my hands on both of his thighs and said, “I meant what I said earlier.”
“You’ll have to remind me,” River said while looking down into my eyes.
“That this was a one-percent-no-commitment-BJ. Tomorrow, when we see each other, this didn’t happen, and I won’t expect any phone calls or texts. Nothing. This is me saying thank you in the best way I know how.”
“That’s very sweet of you,” River said as he brushed my hair out of my face.
As his hand made contact with my skin, the rest of my body grew warm. It had been a while since I’d been with a man, and even though what I was about to do was solely for the purpose of pleasuring River, that didn’t mean my body and my sex wouldn’t rise to the occasion. As I nuzzled his hand, I told myself I’d satisfy my needs as soon as I could get some alone time.
As River’s hand pulled back from my face, my hands moved to the waist of his shorts, where, after a bit of wriggling, I was able to pull them and his briefs off.
Tossing his clothes to the floor, I inspected his tool.
His size was respectable, and to my delight, I saw that his pubic area was groomed. As a widower and as the child of hippies, I half expected him to be in full bloom.
His scent was the mild musk that all well-maintained tools had, along with the lingering aroma of whatever masculine body wash he’d used during the shower he’d taken sometime before the evening’s campfire.
All in all, I was impressed with what I saw and let him know as much.
“Thank you,” was his only reply.
Like most women, how I sucked cock depended on how things were developing with my partner.
The day had been lazy and wonderful, and River had been kind and thoughtful, and so, my treatment of his tool would follow that path.
Grabbing him gently and deliberately, my tongue slid up and down his length. On my first pass, River moaned appreciatively.
When he leaned back and opened his legs wider, giving me better access to his package, I whispered, “Does it feel good?”
“Yes. So good. It’s been so long since…”
As his words trailed off, I increased the speed of my hand and said, “You don’t have to talk about the past. Just enjoy the moment.”
With that, I returned my mouth to his dick and took his glans and the first half of his shaft into my mouth and with a steady pace, I gave him head.”
In the silence of the tent, and over the next few minutes, I listened to River’s deep breaths and the occasional word of praise as I sucked him off.
His hand came down on the back of my head, and gently, he pressed me deeper onto his tool. I was only too happy to comply and easily took the whole of him into me. I was twenty-seven, and while I didn’t galivant around my hometown sucking dick every weekend, I had enough experience in the physical art of sucking cock to open my throat and competently simulate the experience of a man fucking my pussy.
Unsurprisingly, unlike most of the men I’d done this to, River did nothing to force my movements. Instead, as he ran his hands through my nappy hair, he let me do my thing.
Forming a perfect seal with my lips, my mouth rose and fell on his length. At first, my treatment was slow and sensuous, but at regular intervals, over the next couple of minutes, I increased the speed of my throat fucking until I felt River’s hips begin to buck in rhythm with my movement.
He was close, and while I was only too happy to finish him in my mouth, as I’d been blowing this interesting man, my own body was giving me signs that tomorrow would be a much better day if I too could get off.
I pulled my mouth off his cock and returned to stroking him with my hand. As I caught my breath, I looked up at River’s face and saw a façade that was both eerie and intense. The errie was because of the tent’s green haze. The intensity was because he was concentrating on the task of not releasing.
Slowing down the pace of my stroking, I made my pitch. “Would you like to fuck me, River?”
Before he could answer, I quickly added, “Like before, it would be a no-commitment deal – oh, and I’m on the pill.”
Through his own heavy breathing, he said, “Yes, but I’m so close. I won’t last thirty seconds and…”
“And?” I prompted.
“And, if we’re going to make love, then I want you to have the chance to release. We’ll have to take a break.”
I stopped stroking him and, with my own look of kindness, said, “Jesus, River, has there been a moment in your life when you’re not thinking of other people?”
His only reply was, “Let’s go back to the campfire and smoke a joint. That should give me the time I need.”
For ten minutes, we sat by the campfire, watching its flames writhe and dance with one another. Despite the intimacy of the moment, as we smoked, we talked about frivolous things, where if there were a third party sitting with us, they would have had no idea of the illicit commitment we’d made to each other moments ago.
Taking the last drag, I tossed the roach into the fire, turned my gaze onto the man I had propositioned, and said, “So, shall we return to the tent?”
River didn’t give a reply. Instead, he stood and held out his hand.
Inside the tent and naked under the covers, I felt River push his cock into me. He was between my legs, and because I was sopping, he slid into me with little resistance, but that didn’t mean it didn’t feel good.
As my pussy stretched to accommodate River’s girth, I moaned softly into his ear, “Fuck, you feel good.”
Like my earlier blowjob, his thrusting was slow and sensuous. High and feeling like I was being fucked on a cloud, my body welcomed the measured penetration.
“Does it feel good,” River whispered.
“So good. That weed. Everything feels so soft and warm. Your cock feels perfect.”
River slow burn fucked me until I couldn’t take it anymore. But before I could give words to my desire to be fucked harder, he shifted underneath the blankets, grabbed my legs and drew himself into the air. With his green glowing torso fully exposed, River started to pound my sex.
The new roughness of his fucking was beyond pleasurable. I don’t know if it was that I hadn’t got off in over a month, the pot, or that I was getting laid by a man who wasn’t solely interested in getting himself off, but the orgasm that swept my body was epic.
But as wonderful as it was, somehow, I managed to keep a lid on my ecstasy. It would not do to wake up Chance, never mind the other campers, with a midnight opera of moans and cries of passion. Instead, with every ounce of self-discipline I had, I bit down hard into my lower lip and took short, rapid breaths as I rode the wave of sexual energy coursing through my body as though I were a world champion surfer.
It was just as the wave I was riding was beginning to peter out that I sensed River had reached his own finish line. Issuing a muted grunt, he shifted my legs so they were over his shoulders. Pinned underneath him and completely at his mercy, the whole of River’s core began to jackhammer into me.
Looking down into my eyes, in a fierce but still quiet voice, he announced his intention to unload himself deep in my body.
On hearing his words, my eyes narrowed, and in my own intense reply, I gave him permission. “Fill me. All of it.”
Unsurprisingly, when he came, it felt like a flash flood. Weeks, months, or perhaps even a year of sexual tension shot and then poured into my channel, and I savoured every fucking drop of it.
As the head of his tool pulsed, on the verge of tears, River whispered in my ear, “It feels so fucking good, Trinity. So fucking good. God, it’s been so long. Thank you.”
And then he released my legs and collapsed his body onto mine, where for the next ten minutes or so, we held each other and listened to the park’s midnight hum and our own satisfied breathing
It was thirty minutes later when I gave River a final kiss, and I slid out of bed and made my way back to my tent.
As promised, the next day carried on as though nothing had happened. River, just like the day before, continued to be kind and, at every opportunity, lavished his attention and his gentle manliness in equal parts on Daisy and Chance.
It was another memorable day, but it did not end with us making love again.
True to my word, the sex I had given him early in the morning had been a heartfelt thank you and a one-off. On our second night, not wanting to presume, when it was time for Chance and me to go to bed, I left River, Sky and Daisy to close out their day as a family.
It was noon on our third and final day when River came to our site and handed me a small piece of paper.
“It’s my number,” he said casually. “Text any time. If you want, maybe you and Chance could come down for a visit.”
A warm smile spread across my face. “If you’re inviting us, I think we will. I’m certain Chance would like to see you again.”
“It is an invitation, and as much as I’d like to see Chance, it’s really you who I’d like to see.”
I looked around and saw that my son was wrapped up playing a game on my phone. I stepped closer, closing the distance between us, and gently motioned for him to lean in.
When he did, I let my lips brush against his ear and whispered, “I want to see you too, quite a bit. I wasn’t sure if the other night meant as much to you as it did to me… I hoped it wasn’t just a one-off.”
River pulled back slightly, his eyes meeting mine as a friendly smile played on his lips — the same smile that had captivated me all weekend. “Well then,” he said with a teasing glint in his eye, “you shouldn’t wait too long to reach out.”
With that, he turned and walked away, leaving me with a lingering smile and the promise of more to come.
