The hum of the tires on the asphalt had been my soundtrack for the last three hours. Grandma lived way out in the sticks, a good six-hour drive from our place. I was staring out the window, trying to ignore the way my mom, Sarah, was practically vibrating with energy in the driver’s seat.
“You okay back there, Mikey?” she asked, glancing at me in the rearview mirror.
“Yeah, Mom. Just…bored,” I mumbled, shoving my headphones further onto my head.
Bored wasn’t exactly the truth. More like…overstimulated. Mom had decided to wear this low-cut top and tight jeans for the drive. I knew she looked good, she always did, but today it was like she was deliberately trying to torture me. The way the denim hugged her curves, the way the top showed just a hint of cleavage… It was a lot for an eighteen-year-old guy, especially crammed in the back of a car with nothing to do but think.
“We are almost half way there now, You ok to drive or do I need to pull over?”
She reached over and cranked up the radio, some pop song blaring through the speakers. Mom started singing along, off-key but enthusiastic. I tried to tune her out, focusing on the blur of trees and fields whizzing by.
Then, the car started making this weird sputtering noise.
“Uh oh,” Mom said, her voice losing its cheer. “That doesn’t sound good.”
The sputtering got worse, and the car started to slow down. Mom pulled over to the side of the road, the engine finally giving out with a pathetic cough.
“Damn it!” she exclaimed, hitting the steering wheel. “What now?”
She tried the ignition a few times, but the car was dead. “Well, looks like we’re stuck,” she said, sighing. “I’ll call AAA.”
She pulled out her phone, but frowned. “No signal. Of course.”
We were in the middle of nowhere. Cornfields stretched out on either side of the road, and the nearest house looked miles away.
“Great,” I said, stating the obvious. “So, what do we do?”
“Well, we can’t stay here,” Mom said, getting out of the car. She stretched, arching her back in a way that made me instantly regret wearing skinny jeans. “There’s gotta be something nearby. Maybe a gas station or a motel.”
She grabbed our overnight bag from the trunk. “Come on, let’s start walking. Maybe we can find some help.”
And so, we started walking. The sun was beating down, and the asphalt was radiating heat. Mom was power-walking, her hips swaying with each step. I tried not to stare, but it was kind of impossible.
“So,” I said, trying to break the awkward silence. “Grandma’s gonna be bummed we’re not gonna make it today.”
“Yeah, well, what can you do?” Mom said, shrugging. “We’ll call her when we get to a phone.”
We walked for what felt like forever. Finally, I saw a sign in the distance. “Motel – 2 Miles,” it read.
“Thank god,” I said, relief washing over me.
We picked up the pace, eager to get out of the sun. But just as we reached the halfway point, the sky turned dark, and the first fat raindrops started to fall.
“Oh, you gotta be kidding me,” Mom groaned, looking up at the sky.
Within seconds, the rain was coming down in sheets. We were soaked to the bone. Mom’s top was plastered to her body, and I could see…everything. The outline of her breasts, the way her nipples were hard from the cold… It was like a scene from a movie, except way more intense because it was my mom.
I felt a familiar stirring in my pants, and I cursed myself internally. This was so wrong.
I tried to look away, but my eyes kept drifting back to her. She didn’t seem to notice, or maybe she was just pretending not to. She was too busy shivering and trying to shield herself from the rain.
We finally reached the motel, a dingy-looking place with peeling paint and a flickering neon sign. We hurried inside, dripping water everywhere.
The guy behind the counter looked like he hadn’t slept in days. “Can I help you?” he asked, his voice gravelly.
“Yeah, we need a room,” Mom said, trying to wring some of the water out of her hair.
The guy typed something into his computer. “Got one room left,” he said. “Single bed.”
“Single bed?” I asked, my heart sinking.
“Yep,” the guy said, shrugging. “Take it or leave it.”
Mom looked at me, her expression apologetic. “Well, I guess we don’t have much of a choice,” she said.
We paid for the room and trudged down the hallway, leaving a trail of water behind us. The room was small and smelled vaguely of mildew. There was a double bed, a small TV, and a rickety chair.
“Well, this is cozy,” I said, trying to sound nonchalant.
Mom sighed. “I’m going to take a shower,” she said. “I feel disgusting.”
She grabbed the overnight bag and disappeared into the tiny bathroom. I sat on the edge of the bed, trying not to think about what was happening on the other side of the door.
The sound of the shower running filled the room. I could imagine Mom standing under the hot water, letting it wash away the dirt and grime of the road. I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to banish the image from my mind.
A few minutes later, the shower stopped, and Mom emerged from the bathroom, wrapped in a towel. Her hair was wet and slicked back, and her skin was flushed from the heat.
“I feel a little better,” she said, smiling weakly. “You should take a shower too.”
I nodded and grabbed the overnight bag, practically sprinting into the bathroom. I turned on the water, trying to scald myself to death. I needed to clear my head.
When I came out of the shower, Mom was sitting on the bed, watching TV. She was wearing a t-shirt and just panties.
“There’s not much to choose from that we packed.” she said, not looking at me. “I found some extra blankets in the closet.”
I nodded, trying not to make eye contact. The tension in the room was so thick you could cut it with a knife.
“Well,” Mom said, after a long silence. “I guess we should try to get some sleep.”
She turned off the TV and climbed into bed, pulling the covers up to her chin. I stood there for a moment, feeling like an idiot.
“Uh, where do you want me to sleep?” I asked, stating the obvious.
“Just get in,” Mom said, her voice barely a whisper.
I hesitantly climbed into bed, trying to keep as much distance between us as possible. But the bed was small, and there was barely any room to move. Before I knew it, I was pressed up against Mom’s back, my arm draped awkwardly over her side.
I could feel the warmth of her body, the softness of her skin. The scent of her shampoo filled my nostrils. It was torture.
I lay there, stiff as a board, trying not to breathe too deeply. Every nerve in my body was on high alert. I could feel my heart pounding in my chest. Moms ass pressed against my groin and then… I started getting hard.
Finally, Mom spoke, her voice low and husky. “Mikey,” she said, “are you…are you okay back there?”
She shifted again, slightly, and I swear I heard a small, almost imperceptible moan escape her lips. Or maybe I imagined it. God, I hoped I imagined it. My cock started to throb against her cheeks.
“Yeah, Mom. Just… uh… uncomfortable,” I stammered, my voice cracking. Liar. I was a lying, perverted mess as my hand stroked her hip.
“Mikey,” she said again, her voice even softer now, almost a whisper as she unknowingly pushed her bum back into my hard cock. “You know you can talk to me about anything, right? I do feel it I am not stupid. Listen to me, your young lad with hormones. You need to get rid of it.”
“Sorry Mom, it’s so embarrassing,” I said to her resting my forehead on her back as I accidentally humped her ass a little. “How… how can I get rid of it.”
“You could, uh…you could go take care of it in the bathroom,” she finally said, the words tumbling out in a rush. “Just…be quiet about it, okay?”
Relief washed over me, followed by a fresh wave of confusion. She wasn’t repulsed. She wasn’t angry. She was giving me permission. But why? Did she not realize that the thoughts in my head were all about her?
“Okay,” I managed to croak out, my throat dry. I started to pull away, but her hand shot out reached behind her and grabbed my arm, stopping me. She still faced away from me.
“Or…” she said, her voice dropping so low I had to strain to hear her. “Or…you could try something else.”
I froze, every muscle in my body tensing. My head was spinning, trying to process what she was implying. Something else? What could that possibly mean?
“You’re a grown man, Mikey,” she said, her voice a soft caress. “And I’m…I’m a woman. A lonely, frustrated woman.”
“Mom,” I whispered, my voice trembling as she rocked her ass against my cock. I rest my hand on the waistband of her panties. I so wanted to pull them down. “Ahh… I… I don’t understand. You want me to… to…pull these down.”
I didn’t wait for a response I slolwy slid them down to her thighs. I took my cock out and tried to feed my cock under her ass to get to her pussy.
She sighed, “here let me help.” Her hand reached behind her and grabbed my cock.
She guided my cock under her thighs and I felt the warmth of her legs and the softness of her skin. She moved her hips up and pressed my cockhead against her folds.
“Ohh. That feels nice.” She purred as she rubbed me against her slit getting my cockhead slick with her juices. Then, she lowered herself onto me and I felt my cockhead pop through her folds and push inside her tight heat. I groaned and she sighed in a static silence. I was spooning and fucking her.
She gasped and shuddered as my cock slid into her with a single thrust. I had to freeze myself, paralyzed by the incredible sensations – the velvety softness, the tight squeeze around my shaft, the forbidden thrill of finally being inside my own mother. My breathing was ragged as I tried to calm my racing heart.
After a moment, Mom started to slowly rock her hips, gently riding my cock. Each movement sent sparks of pleasure shooting through my body. I couldn’t believe this was happening. I was really fucking my own mother, the secret object of my taboo desires for so long.
I gripped her hips and started thrusting in tandem with her movements, driving my hard length deeper into her slick heat. Our bodies moved together in an erotic rhythm as I pounded into her from behind. The lewd squelching noises of our coupling filled the room.
“That’s it baby,” Mom moaned breathlessly, pushing back against me. “Does Mommy’s pussy feel good around your cock? Fuck me harder, Mikey. I need it.”
Her vulgar words inflamed my lust. I slammed into her harder, grunting with the effort. The bed creaked and shook from the force of my thrusts. Mom’s breasts bounced each time I hilted inside her. I reached around to squeeze and paw at them, tweaking her stiff nipples.
“Ooohh fuck, just like that!” Mom cried out, her pussy clenching around me. “Keep playing with my tits while you rail me, baby boy. Ahh I’m getting close!”
I rubbed and tweaked her sensitive buds harder, fucking into her furiously. Mom threw her head back and let out a loud, shameless moan as she came hard on my cock. Her pussy spasmed and fluttered around me, the sensation pushing me over the edge.
“Ahh Mom… thank you for this… Ahh yeah,” she felt amazing I still couldn’t believe we was having sex.
I roared as I unloaded my hot seed deep inside my mother’s womb as she unknowingly clenched her muscles and trapped my cum inside her. I moaned against her neck and collapsed on top of her. She shifted to face me and wrapped her arms around me tightly.
“Wow… That was…intense,” she whispered, stroking my hair. “I needed that more than I realized.”
I didn’t know what to say. Shame, guilt, and forbidden pleasure warred within me. Part of me wanted to rewind time and erase what had just happened. But another part, a dark and treacherous part, was thrilled by the intimacy, the transgression, and the raw, animal connection we had shared.
“Mom…I…” I started, but the words caught in my throat.
She placed a finger over my lips, silencing me. “Don’t say anything, Mikey. Not yet. Let’s just…lie here for a while.”
We lay intertwined in the small bed, the silence punctuated only by our ragged breaths. The air was thick with unspoken emotions and the lingering scent of sex. I closed my eyes, trying to make sense of the tangled mess of feelings swirling inside me.
After a long while, Mom stirred. “We should probably clean up,” she said, her voice barely audible.
We got out of bed and went into the bathroom, avoiding each other’s gaze. The shower was cold and clinical, a stark contrast to the heat of passion that had consumed us moments before. As the water washed over my skin, I wondered what the hell we had just done. And what it meant for the future.
Back in the room, we dressed in silence. The tension was palpable, a heavy weight hanging between us. I knew we couldn’t pretend that nothing had happened. We would have to talk about it eventually. But not now. Not here.
We packed our bags, avoiding eye contact. When we finally emerged from the motel room, the morning sun seemed to mock us with its bright indifference. The world outside was going about its business, oblivious to the seismic shift that had just occurred in our small, dysfunctional universe.
As we drove away, I glanced at Mom. Her face was etched with fatigue and a hint of something I couldn’t quite decipher – regret, perhaps? Or maybe…satisfaction?
“So,” I said, breaking the silence. “What now?”
She sighed and stared out the window. “I don’t know, Mikey. I honestly don’t know.” She turned to me, her eyes filled with a mixture of fear and something else I couldn’t name. “But we need to figure it out. Together.”
The road stretched out before us, long and uncertain. We were embarking on a journey into uncharted territory, a place where the lines between mother and son, right and wrong, were blurred beyond recognition. And I had no idea where it would lead us.