If I hadn’t gotten wet, things never would have gone farther than my son getting hard. But I got so very wet.
Reggie was eighteen, and his aunt and I were driving him to his first semester in college. Becka’s Grand Caravan was packed to the gills. We were hauling Reggie’s stuff for his dorm room, plus boxes of my sister’s ceramics that she was delivering to an art gallery in the same college town. Reggie’s double bass violin took up both the middle seat and the folded-down front passenger seat. I couldn’t feel miffed at the oversized instrument, for with it, Reggie had earned a full scholarship to pursue jazz music. But the only vacant seating was a narrow space all the way in the back.
“Where am I gonna sit?” I said.
Becka scanned her crowded car and shrugged. “I guess on Reggie’s lap.”
“For a two-hour trip?” I said.
“You’re not heavy, Mom,” Reggie said. “I can manage.”
I wasn’t worried about crushing him. I was worried that I had developed a crush on him. My son was a beautiful man. More than once over the summer I had ogled him – lithe and muscular – swimming in our pool or playing lacrosse with his buddies, and found myself getting turned on. My forbidden desire had shocked me, and I strongly squelched it. But that didn’t make it prudent to perch on his lap for two hours in a short summer dress.
“Rest stops, Suzie,” Becka said, “we’ll take breaks if we have to.”
Reggie climbed in and sat in the back. He was wearing a tank top and running shorts. I swung my hips over his lap. “Tell me if I get too heavy.” I tucked the hem of my dress under me and sat side-saddle across his bare thighs.
“It’s all good, Mom,” he said, and gave me a friendly hug.
“Road trip!” Becka shouted, and we were off. Classic rock radio blared from the front seat, muffled by a solid wall of U-Haul boxes behind which my son and I sat wedged between more boxes. We couldn’t even see the back of Becka’s head.
Minutes into the trip, the county road got rough for several miles, making my round ass bounce on Reggie’s lap. That’s when I felt his cock pressing up from below. Of course. What did I expect? I draped my arm across his broad shoulders and tried to hold still, but the road was corrugated from storm damage. My ass bumped and jolted. His cock grew harder, more insistent, a living thing poking its head up into my underside. I can’t describe the full mix of emotions that overtook my body, but strong arousal and shame were among them. No, don’t get wet. But I felt that unmistakable tingle. My summer dress and panties were between my wet pussy and his warm thighs. If this damned bouncing ever stops, he’ll never know.
“Uh, Mom, you’re gonna have to lift up a bit,” he said. “I’m trapped under you and I’m getting mashed.”
I lifted a few inches and he adjusted himself, drawing his stiff cock up toward his belly and then he settled me back down sideways across his thighs. His fully erect cock, freed from being trapped under my thighs, was tenting his running shorts, and I could clearly see the mushroom-shaped outline of the head straining through the thin fabric. I hadn’t realized he was that big.
We were only fifteen minutes into our road trip. I didn’t want my traitorous pussy to get any wetter. But then we hit a big bump and Reggie caught me around my waist, his muscular forearm pressing up against my breasts. My nipples instantly got hard and I felt a leaky sensation between my thighs.
The van crossed a bridge and headed west on a smooth state road. Good. No more jostling. I subtly sniffed the air, to see if I could detect the smell of my sex steaming up from my crotch. Not sure. Maybe. I hope he didn’t notice.
An hour and a half to go.
Reggie and I weren’t saying a word or making eye contact, acting nonchalant, as if sensing our engorged genitals only inches apart was nothing special to get worked up about. He kept his hands to himself and sang along with the radio, his fine baritone voice vibrating the air around my head.
But my breathing had quickened along with his. I could feel my heartbeat in my throat. I was trying to avoid pressing the side of my hip against his hard cock, but I was mostly failing and I could feel his heartbeat there.
An hour and fifteen minutes to go.
“How you guys doing back there?”
“We’re fine,” Reggie said over the sounds of Bruce Springsteen. Then he said quietly in my ear, “You feel good, Mom. I like having you on top.”
His words made me turn my head and glance down at his cock. A tiny wet spot had formed where the head bulged and I realized with a start that his cock was leaking pre-cum. Knowing that he was super-aroused electrified me like throwing a switch, and I had to look away. “Oh, son.” My pulse began throbbing in the swollen lips of my cunt. That was a new sensation: I’d never felt my pussy throb before, except during the muscle spasms of orgasm. I suppose I had always quenched my thirst quick enough that I’d never gotten to this level of need.
Have you ever watched a glowing, pulsating ember? A puff of breeze can ignite it and throw up a hot tongue of flame. That was my secret state of excitement I was trying to hide. Just one little puff of breeze: Reggie would only have needed to nuzzle the gooey opening of my pussy with a fingertip, or bitten my earlobe, or gently pinched my nipples, and even just called me his little slut, and it would have triggered in me an orgasm.
Forty-five minutes to go.
Reggie had not been paying me any special attention, but my heart rate had not managed to decelerate. Nor his. Now I was soaking through my panties. What to say? How to pretend nothing was happening?
“Mom,” Reggie whispered in my ear. “You smell so good.”
His warm breath made me shiver.
“You’re unbelievably sexy,” he said. “I love you.”
I sighed. “I don't know what to do.”
“Mom. Be honest. You know exactly what to do.”
His words were like a key that unlocked my paralysis. My mind was yelling “It's forbidden!” but my trembling hands reached down and tugged Reggie’s running shorts down to his knees. His splendid cock sprang out and the scent that rose from his manhood sent its signal directly to my animal brain. I pulled his shorts off over his sneakers. I lifted my hips and flipped my dress up over my lower back.
“Oh, Mom.” He yanked down my panties and a string of clear lube, like baby oil, dripped out of my sopping cunt. He pulled the underwear down to my sandals and I stepped out of them.
I sat back down, aligned with him, and I grabbed his big cock. So hot to the touch! I started to guide it into my hole, but he put his hand over mine.
“Not yet.” Instead, he slid his cock up the crack of my ass to rest there, teasing me, hovering over the abyss of orgasm.
I felt lightheaded. I gave my ass cheeks a tight squeeze and heard a little moan escape his lips.
“You smell like heaven!” he said in my ear.
I did smell wonderful, but I worried the musky tang would perfume the whole minivan. The radio was blaring in the front seat beyond the wall of cargo. Could Becka smell me?
As if on cue, Reggie raised his voice, “Aunt Becka. We’re nearly an hour from the Gulf, but I swear I can already smell the ocean. That tidal pool smell. You smell it?”
“Shhh!” I told him, feeling myself hotly blush.
“Not yet,” Becka called back from behind the steering wheel.
“Like sea wind,” Reggie said. “You don’t smell that?”
“Maybe in another thirty minutes,” she said.
“I’m smelling it now,” Reggie said.
“Whatever, dude,” Becka said.
Reggie started slowly rocking his hips, sliding his cock up and down in the very slippery crack of my ass. He reached up under the back of my dress and undid my bra, and I gasped with pleasure when my breasts fell free. Gently, lovingly, he squeezed my stiff nipples. I instantly shuddered with an orgasm, just as I knew I would, but I was able to hold down the wail of joy that started up in my throat. Then he whispered in my ear in his husky deep voice. “I’ve been sniffing you for the past hour, like a stallion smelling a mare. Your scent is why we can’t stop ourselves. You’ve done this to us, and now I’m gonna fuck your good-smelling cunt. I have to. You know that.”