Okay, so here’s the deal. Mark, my bonehead of a husband, decided we needed a family road trip. Sounds cute, right? Wrong. He overpacked the car like we were moving to another country, and now I’m stuck riding on my son Ryan’s lap. Ryan’s eighteen, bless his heart, but still. Awkward doesn’t even begin to cover it.
“You sure you’re cool sitting on Ryan’s lap, Soph? I know this ain’t ideal,” Mark asked, jingling the keys like a hyperactive elf.
“Yeah, yeah, I’m good, Mark. Just try not to drive like a maniac!” I yelled back, already halfway to the bedroom to change. Seriously, the sooner we get this show on the road, the better.
I threw on this breezy sundress I had – the kind that feels like you’re wearing nothing at all. And, well, I was wearing nothing at all underneath. Sue me, it was hotter than Satan’s armpit out there, and underwear just felt like cruel and unusual punishment.
Before squeezing back into the sardine can on wheels, I looked down at Ryan, who was looking anywhere but at me. Poor kid. “Hey sweetie, you okay with this? I know it’s kinda weird having your mom sit on you.”
He finally made eye contact, a slight blush creeping up his neck. “It’s fine, Mom,” he mumbled. “Just try not to, you know, lean too much, and I’ll be alright.”
Aww, what a sweetheart! I gotta get him something nice on this trip. Maybe a new video game or something.
“Alright, let’s get this show on the road!” Mark yelled, blasting some old rock song on the radio. He thinks he’s so cool.
The first few hours were surprisingly okay. I mean, my butt was starting to go numb, and the constant vibration of the car was making me a little motion sick, but other than that, no major disasters.
Then, BAM. I felt something pointy poke me in the butt. I shifted around, trying to get it unstuck, accidentally rolling my ass into his crotch. “Ah fuck… Mom, stop that,” Ryan mumbled, his voice cracking.
My cheeks went bright red. Oh. Oh, dear. It must be… his thing. Oops. Mortifying! I tried to play it cool, but now I couldn’t stop thinking about it.
And here’s the thing – I hadn’t gotten any action in months. Ever since Mark decided I needed to be more “ladylike.” Seriously? Ladylike? I’m a grown woman with needs! A girl’s gotta get hers, you know?
We were cruising along in awkward silence when Mark hit a massive pothole. Oof! Suddenly, I could feel Ryan’s… um… against my dress, right where my lady bits were. This was not good. Not good at all. And then, I felt it get… bigger. Was he even aware of what was happening?
Then, Ryan shifted, trying to get comfy, and accidentally pressed it against my dress again. Ooh, that felt kinda good. A little spark of… something… ignited down there. I felt things getting… well, a little damp.
A crazy idea popped into my head. A really, really bad idea. Could I… use my own son? I know, I know, it was messed up, but I was desperate, and from the feel of things, he was packing more than his dad ever did.
My… ahem… was getting wetter as I imagined it. I slowly lifted my sundress a bit, letting the cool air hit. Ooh yeah, I needed this. My son grabbed my shoulders. “Mom, what are you doing?!”
“I’m sorry, honey,” I whispered as I grinding my ass against his cock. “Mommy’s just really, really horny.”
Ryan put his hand on my thigh. “Mom, really… you want me to…? That’s kinda hot.”
The temptation was real. It was like a giant flashing neon sign screaming, “DO IT! DO IT NOW!”
“So you be happy for me to ride it,” I said slightly lifting off his lap.
He excitedly took out his cock, omg it was huge I would guys 8 inches.
I pulled my dress up a bit and he lowered me down onto him, “Ahhhh fuck, you’re big.”
It feels so good, I hear Ryan moan quietly behind me. “Are you two alright back there?” my husband asks.
“Yes Babe, it’s just a bit of a hard ride back here” I quickly say.
“Well we can have a quick pit stop soon.”
“No rush.” I moan back.
I then push back against my son’s cock. “Come on Ryan push back against mommy, I need a hard fucking since your dad never delivers.”
Ryan starts to thrust up into my pussy.
“Ohh yes baby, fuck mommy, mommy really needs a nice hard cock to please her, you can fuck mommy. That’s it… ah baby, I know we shouldn’t ahh.”
My son looks at me and with clenched eyes, slowly nods his head. “I never thought my mom would be riding my cock.”
I squeeze my eyes shut, the guilt warring with the pleasure. “I know, baby, I know. We’ll talk about this later, okay? Just… just give me this for now. I need it.”
“Good boy.” I whisper while keeping an eye on my husband who is singing along to the radio.
As my son continues to fuck my wet pussy I can’t help but think that we could make this a regular thing, I know that after feeling my sons 8-inch cock I can never go back to my husband’s tiny 4 inches, even if he wanted to fuck me, which he doesn’t.
Ryan’s pace quickened, a primal rhythm taking over. He was no longer the shy, awkward kid. He was a force, a pure animal driven by instinct. His hands gripped my hips, guiding me, controlling me. He knew what felt good, and he wasn’t afraid to give it. Each thrust was deeper, harder, pushing me closer to the edge.
“Fuck, Mom,” he groaned, his breath hot on my neck. “You feel so good.”
His words were a mix of reverence and lust, and they did something to me. It was like a forbidden fruit, the taste of sin so exquisite it made me forget everything else. I was lost in the moment, consumed by the feeling of his body moving inside mine.
“Don’t stop, baby,” I gasped, my body trembling. “Don’t you dare stop.”
He didn’t stop. He couldn’t stop. The momentum had taken over, and he was riding a wave of pure, unadulterated pleasure. I could feel him getting closer, his muscles tensing, his breathing ragged.
“Mom, I’m gonna…” he started, but the words caught in his throat.
“Let go, baby,” I urged, squeezing my eyes shut. “Just let go.”
And he did. A shudder ran through his body as he came, his release deep and powerful. I felt the aftershocks ripple through me, a wave of pleasure that washed away the guilt, the shame, everything. For that brief, fleeting moment, there was only us, connected in the most forbidden way possible.
As the intensity faded, a heavy silence fell between us. The only sound was the hum of the car engine and Mark’s off-key singing. I could feel the weight of what we had done pressing down on me, the enormity of the transgression.
Ryan slowly withdrew, the contact leaving me feeling strangely empty. He turned his face away, his cheeks flushed. I knew he was regretting it, the shame and confusion starting to sink in.
“We shouldn’t have done that,” he whispered, his voice barely audible.
“I know,” I said, my own voice trembling. “I know.”
But deep down, a part of me didn’t regret it. A part of me craved it, the raw, animalistic connection we had shared. It was a dangerous secret, a fire that could consume us both.
I smoothed down my sundress, trying to regain some semblance of composure. How could I face Mark after this? How could I ever look at Ryan the same way again?
“We can never tell anyone,” I said, my voice firm. “Ever.”
He nodded, his eyes still averted. “I know. It never happened.”
But it did happen. And the memory of it, the feel of his body inside mine, would forever be etched in my mind.
The rest of the drive was a blur of awkward silence and forced smiles. Mark, oblivious to the seismic shift that had occurred in the back seat, continued to sing along to his old rock songs, his enthusiasm grating on my nerves.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, we pulled into a motel. As soon as the car stopped, I practically leaped out, desperate for some fresh air and a chance to escape the suffocating tension.
“I need a shower,” I announced, grabbing my bag from the trunk. “I’ll meet you guys inside.”
I stumbled into the dingy motel room, the stale smell of cigarette smoke and cheap disinfectant doing little to ease my nausea. The bathroom was equally uninviting, but I didn’t care. I needed to wash away the sin, to scrub myself clean of the transgression.
I stood under the scalding water for what felt like hours, trying to erase the memory of Ryan’s touch, his taste, his scent. But the harder I scrubbed, the more vivid the images became.
When I finally emerged from the bathroom, wrapped in a threadbare towel, Mark was sprawled on one of the beds, channel surfing with the remote. Ryan was nowhere to be seen.
“Where’s Ryan?” I asked, trying to sound casual.
“He said he needed some air,” Mark replied, his eyes glued to the television. “He’s probably just walking around, stretching his legs.”
I nodded, my heart pounding in my chest. I needed to talk to Ryan, to try to make sense of what had happened, but I didn’t know where to start.
As I sat on the edge of the bed, I felt a pang of guilt. I had used my son, exploited his feelings for my own selfish desires. I was a terrible mother, a terrible wife.
But then, another thought crept into my mind, a dangerous, seductive thought. What if this wasn’t a mistake? What if this was the beginning of something new, something forbidden?
The idea both terrified and thrilled me. It was a descent into darkness, a path that could lead to ruin. But the temptation was too strong to resist.
I knew I should stop it, put an end to it before it spiraled out of control. But as I looked at my reflection in the cracked mirror, I saw a woman I didn’t recognize, a woman consumed by desire, a woman willing to risk everything for a taste of forbidden pleasure.
And in that moment, I knew that I was already lost.