It was August. We spent the morning packing the car. Our son, Mike was leaving for college. It was morning but already it was 90 degrees outside. Mike and husband, and I were getting pretty sweaty loading up the car. The trunk was already full and the back seat wouldn’t fit much more. Mike went back into the house to get the last of his things.
I heard him come out of the house. I turned around and saw him carrying his 42-inch flat-screen TV.
“Where are you going to put the TV?” I heard his father ask.
“I don’t know, but I don’t want to leave it. Maybe we can move some stuff around in the back seat.”
I looked in the back seat. “I don’t think so, son.” Mike looked in the car. “We can put it in the middle of the front seat.”
“Ok, college man,” I said. “Then where is your mom going to sit?”
I could see on his face he was trying to come up with a solution. “I got an idea,” he said. He opened the passenger side door. He put the TV in the middle. He then got in and sat down. “See plenty of room. Here Mom sit next to me.” I tried to sit next to my son. I could sit in the seat, but the door wouldn’t close. Now, I am not a big woman. I stand about five feet tall and I only weigh a hundred pounds. It was my son taking up all the room. He was already over six feet tall and weighed around two hundred pounds. “It’s not me that’s taking up all of the room, it’s you. This isn’t going to work. Tell you what, leave the TV and when we come to visit you we’ll bring it with us.”
“No way,” he answered as I got out of the car and stood by the door.
“Make up your mind, Mike, it’s hot out here.”
“Ok,” Mike looked at me. “Ok, you can sit on my lap.”
“Mike, it’s a five-hour drive to your college,” his father said.
“I know, but mom doesn’t weigh much. What do you say, Mom? Would you mind sitting on my lap?”
‘Ok, I’ll sit on your lap. But if it gets too uncomfortable I want to stop at a rest stop.” I said looking at Steve my husband. He agreed. “Ok, let’s get our showers so we can get on the road.”
My shower didn’t take long. Since I would sit on my son’s lap for five hours, I wanted to wear something comfortable. My jeans would be too tight. Plus it was too hot to wear them. I looked in my closet. As I was going through my clothes I found a summer dress I bought. It was the short type with sleeveless arms. It buttoned up in the front. I unbuttoned it and put it on. When I finished buttoning it up, I noticed it showed my bra too much. I took it off again. I removed my bra and put the dress back on. I looked in the mirror. I didn’t need a bra. Even at thirty-seven, my tits were still perky. The dress was short. It only came to the middle of my thighs. I slipped on a pair of white panties. I took one last look in the mirror. I thought to myself. “For a mother of an eighteen-year-old son, I still looked good. I know my husband still likes what I look like. He tries to fuck me at least five times a week.” I heard the car horn.
I ran downstairs, closed and locked the front door and headed for the car. My son was already in the seat. I sat down on his lap and swung my legs into the car. I looked down and noticed my dress barely covered my thighs. It rode up pretty high. My son was wearing baggy shorts and a T-shirt. I closed the car door.
I was glad I was wearing this dress. I could feel the back of my bare legs on my son’s bare legs. “How are you doing?” I asked my son.
“Fine, Mom, you really don’t weigh anything. No problem.”
I looked over the TV at my husband. “Do you have enough room to drive?” I asked him.
“Sure,” he answered. I could only see his head. “Can you even see me?” I laughed.
“Only your head, dear.” Are you comfortable?”
I wiggled around on my son’s lap. “Yeah, I don’t mind this at all.”
My husband turned on the radio and I was listening to the music. I started to feel something hard. I repositioned my ass, but it didn’t go away. I also noticed my son got really quiet. “It wasn’t there when I first sat down.” I thought to myself. Then I realized what I was feeling. My son was getting a hard-on. I really didn’t think about giving him a hard-on by sitting on his lap. I could feel it still growing.
“My god,” I thought to myself. “How big is it going to get.” I wondered what he was thinking. Does he think I can’t feel it between the crack of my ass?
I looked down at my legs. My dress had risen a little more. I could almost see my panties. My son’s hands were on the seat on each side of me. I wondered if he could see how high my dress had ridden up. I realized I like the idea of my dress being up so high. It gave me a little thrill knowing I could give my son a hard-on. We had only been on the road for about an hour. There were still four hours to go. I knew my husband couldn’t see how high my dress was or he would be looking at my legs. The TV blocks everything from his view. I felt my son shift his body around. When he did his dick ended up on the back of my ass. I kinda wished he would try something.
“How you doing honey,” I asked him.
“I’m Ok, mom, how are you feeling?”
“I like what I’m feeling,” I answered him. “Are your arms getting tired where you have them?”
“Yeah, it’s a little uncomfortable,”
“Here try this to see if it feels better,” I said as I took hold of both of his hands and placed them on my bare thighs. “Is that better?”
“Yeah, that’s a lot better.”
I looked down. When I put his hands high on my thighs, I put them palms down. His thumbs were resting on the inside of my thighs, very close to my panties. I liked what it looked like. I wished he’d move them up and touch my pussy. I knew he wouldn’t. The more I felt his hands on me, the more I wanted him to feel me. I rested my hands on his. This seemed very innocent. I started rubbing the top of his hands. Just like any mother would, but I had something different in mind. I looked over at my husband. I liked the idea of my son’s hands on me with my husband right there.
As I rubbed his hands I tried to move them up my thighs just a little. He didn’t give me any resistance. Now his hands were on my skirt with his fingers still on my bare thighs. I rose a little so I could pull my skirt up a little. His hands moved with my skirt. I looked down and could see my panties.
His fingers were so close to touching them. I raised his right hand and put it on my panties. He left his hand there. I spread my legs a little. When I did, his hand fell between my legs. I took hold of his hand and pressed it against my panties. My son’s hand was now on my pantie-covered pussy. I could feel myself getting wet. I wanted more. When I removed my hand, he left his hand on me. He wasn’t moving it around or anything. He was just letting his hands rest on my pussy. I waited for him to start moving his fingers. Nothing. Maybe he was afraid to. I knew how to fix that.
I took hold of his hand and moved it up to the top of my panties. When I knew his fingers were above my panties, I pressed his hand against my body and slowly slid his fingers between my panties and bare skin. I kept moving his hand down until I could feel his fingertips just barely touch the top of my pussy lips. I pushed his hand down further. I couldn’t get his hand between my legs under my panties so he could feel my pussy. My panties were too tight for both of our hands.
Finally, I felt him try to move his hand further down so he could find my entrance. When I took my hand out from under my panties, my son left his hand on my pussy. I raised my hips, hooked my thumbs on each side of my panties and pulled them down to my knees. As soon as I did this I felt Mike move his hand so he could get his fingers in me.
My panties kept me from spreading my legs out for him to get to feel me. Before I could move my hand to take my panties off, Mike used his other hand and started pulling them down around my ankles. I lifted my leg so he could take them off. I spread my legs as wide as I could. This was all he needed. I was so wet he sunk two fingers in me at once. I let out a low moan.
“Are you OK?” my husband asked me. He was looking at me. I smiled and said,” I’m OK; I thought it would be a problem sitting on my son’s lap, but it really isn’t. This isn’t going to be so bad of a ride.”
Here I was talking to my husband with my son’s fingers in me. “How much farther until we stop?”
“I don’t want to stop until I go a little further,”
“How about you Mike, can you go a little bit further?”
“Yeah, mom. I can go a lot further,”
“Good,” I answered. “The further we go, the better I like it.”
That’s OK with you, isn’t it honey?” I asked my husband.
“Yeah, I like the idea of not stopping.” He answered.
I turned and looked at my son,” Me too. I don’t want you to stop.”
“Mike?” my husband asked our son,” How are you doing with your mom on your lap?”
“No problem dad, mom keeps moving around so one position doesn’t get uncomfortable. She raises up every once in a while to relieve the pressure.” As my son was talking to his dad, he was sinking his fingers even deeper into my pussy.
Mike was starting to move his fingers in and out of me. I had to bite my tongue to keep from moaning. I pressed my hand against his. I pushed his hand hard into my pussy. I wanted him to know I wanted him to go deeper in me. He got the idea and sank his fingers in me as deep as he could. I started moving my hips to the rhythm of his fingers. I looked over at my husband.
It was a good thing the TV was blocking his view. If he could see his son with his fingers deep in his mother’s pussy, I don’t know what he would do. My whole body was starting to respond to his fingers. Without warning he pulled his fingers out of me. I felt disappointed. That didn’t last long. My son started unbuttoning my dress. He started at the top button and was working his way down to the bottom button. As he was unbuttoning my dress I could feel the cool air from the car’s air conditioner. It made my nipples even harder. I felt him unbutton the last button. He opened my dress.
The front of me was naked for my son to do whatever he wanted to do to me. He started running his hands up and down my body. He started fondling both of my tits. He kept cupping them with his hands. I struck my chest out so he could press against my tits even harder.
I lifted my hips, exposing my round, ass to my son, as I slowly pulled my tight, stretchy dress up and off, revealing my clean-shaven, freshly waxed pussy. My son’s eyes locked onto it, understanding my silent command. He expertly unzipped his shorts and freed his throbbing, 8-inch cock, already leaking pre-cum. I rose higher to give him full access, my dripping cunt on display.
“Honey, is everything alright back there?” my husband asked, oblivious to the depravity unfolding in the backseat.
“No, dear, I’m just… getting comfortable. Mike, is there anything you need to do to get more comfortable?” I purred, my voice dripping with lust.
My son “accidentally” brushed his fingers over my slick folds, collecting my juices on his thumb. “Mom, if you could raise your hips a bit higher, that would be great. I need a better angle.” I obeyed, lifting my ass higher, giving him a perfect view of my tightly furled rosebud.
As he positioned his cock at my entrance, I lowered myself onto him with agonizing slowness, savouring every inch of his thick manhood stretching and filling me. My pussy clenched around him, milking his dick as I sank down to the hilt. I let out a low moan, unable to contain my pleasure.
“Oh, honey, are you sure you’re okay? You seem a bit flushed,” my husband commented, glancing back at me with mild concern.
“No, no, it’s fine, dear. Mike is just… very generous with his lap space,” I replied with a weak chuckle, trying to play it casually as I began to ride my son’s cock, my ass moving in a slow, sensual rhythm.
My husband returned his attention to the road as I continued my clandestine fucking, my son’s hands gripping my hips as I rode him deeper and faster. I looked over my shoulder back at Mike and said quietly, “Y-you… ok sweety.” While keeping a steady rhythm riding his cock trying to be quiet.
“Trust me Mom… oh yes… I am very ok,” he said stammering as he moaned.
“Are you sure everything okay back there, honey?” my husband asked, his voice tinged with concern.
I forced a breathy giggle, my voice shaking with pleasure. “Oh, yes, dear. Just… really enjoying the ride.”
Mike smirked against my neck, his teeth grazing my pulse point. “Glad you’re comfortable, Mom.”
My son’s dirty talk sent a shiver down my spine. “Mmm, so am I, Mike.”
I held on to the headrest of the seat in front, trying to remain discreet as I watched my husband focus on the road. “Steve, turn the radio up,” I said to him, waiting for him to drown out the sound of our illicit activities.
As he complied, I started slamming my ass up and down, my moans muffled by the headrest as I pushed my face into it. “Ahhh fuck,” I mouthed, my voice barely audible over the radio’s volume.
Through it all, Steve remained oblivious to the depravity unfolding in the backseat. Little did he know, his wife and son were engaged in a taboo, incestuous fuck-a-thon, their bodies moving in perfect sync to the rhythm of the car’s tyres on the highway.
My mind raced with thoughts of utter debauchery as I continued to ride my son’s cock, my husband none the wiser at the helm. The sensation of Mike’s thick manhood plunging into my soaked cunt was both intense and intoxicating, like a potent drug coursing through my veins.
I clutched the headrest tighter, my knuckles turning white, as I surrendered to the raw pleasure building within me. My son’s hands gripped my hips, his fingers digging into my skin as he guided my pace, urging me to fuck myself on his cock with reckless abandon.
As Mike’s cock throbbed inside me, I felt the first waves of my impending climax crash over me. My pussy clenched hard around his shaft, milking it for all it was worth. I bit my lip to stifle a loud moan, not wanting to alert my husband to the extent of our backseat debauchery.
“You… almost there, Mom,” Mike gasped in my ear, his hot breath sending shivers down my spine. I nodded, my head throbbing in time with the pounding of my heart.
With a final, powerful thrust, I felt Mike reach his own peak, his cock pulsating and spewing thick ropes of cum deep inside me. I came undone, my body shaking violently as the most intense orgasm of my life ripped through me. I screamed silently into the headrest, my vision blurring as white-hot pleasure consumed every inch of my being.
As the aftershocks faded, I slowly dismounted Mike’s still-hard cock, my legs feeling like jelly. I pulled my panties back up and pulled my dress back down, smoothing it over my trembling form, and glanced over my shoulder at my son. His face was flushed a pleased smirk on his lips.
“Thanks, Mom,” he said quietly, readjusting his shorts and zipping up as I sat back gently on his knees.
Exhilaration coursed through my veins as I finally caught my breath, still basking in the afterglow of our illicit tryst. I couldn’t believe how close we’d come to being discovered, yet the thrill of our near brush with scandal only added to the intensity of our forbidden pleasure.
As we continued our drive, I stole sidelong glances at my husband, trying to gauge his awareness of what had just transpired mere inches from him. His profile remained calm and oblivious, lost in his own world as he navigated the winding road.
“Mom, can I ask you something?” Mike’s voice broke the spell, his words laced with a hint of vulnerability.
I turned to face him, noting the serious look on his face. “Of course, sweetie. What’s on your mind?”
“Well… I know we just did something really, really naughty,” he began, his cheeks flushing a deep red. “And I love you so much, Mom. But… what if Dad ever found out?”
His concern touched my heart, and I reached out to gently stroke his cheek. “Mike, honey, let me tell you something,” I said softly, meeting his gaze. “We both know that what we shared was intense and amazing. But it’s also something we can never, ever talk about with your father. It’s our secret, just between us.”
Mike’s eyes widened, a flicker of understanding sparking in their depths. “You mean… we can do it again?”
I smiled, a secret, sultry smile meant only for him. “Oh, I think that can be arranged,” I whispered, my voice dripping with promise. “Let’s just say I will becoming to visit you are your dorm as much as I can.”
As we rode the rest of the way in comfortable silence, I couldn’t help but feel a sense of excitement and anticipation for the next time I could steal away with my son, indulging in our taboo desires under the guise of familial closeness.
Little did Steve know, he was sharing a wife with his own flesh and blood. And the thought of it sent a fresh wave of lust coursing through me, making me wonder when and where our next illicit tryst might unfold.
For now, I simply sat back and savoured the knowledge of our shared secret, my mind already spinning with scenarios of future encounters that would leave us both breathless and begging for more.