My son laughed as he held a picture up, arms length from his face as if it could actually damage his eyes.
“You didn’t really drive around in that, did you?”
I stretched my hand out and waved it, silently demanding he turn over the offending picture and Tom put it in my hand just as my wife leaned over and laughed.
“That was your father’s first car,” she cackled.
“Man is it ugly. What was it?” Tom asked as I jerked the picture from his hand.
“A Rambler,” his Mom said.
Miffed, I corrected my wife, “A 1959 Rambler American Continental.”
That’s right,” Laura’s mirth boiled forth. “I forgot.”
“What’s that on the back?” Tom pointed at the picture, now in my hand. Engrossed in the picture, I didn’t answer.
“Oh, that. That was for the rear tire,” Laura explained. “Like a Lincoln,” she laughed.
“You went out with Dad when he was driving that?” Tom’s skepticism was evident in his voice, clearly not convinced that an attractive, modern woman like his mother would have gone out with a ‘goodie-goodie’ like his father, especially driving such a joke car.
“Oh no,” Laura laughed. “Gran owned half of it and she talked your Grandad into lending your Dad the money to get a car of his own after he first brought me home, something decent to take a nice girl out in, bless her soul. That’s when he got the ’57 Chevy hardtop. Now that was a nice car. There should be a picture of it in here somewhere.”
Laura started pushing pictures around, searching for the Chevy, and Tom’s attention turned to the new search. My focus remained on the ’59 Rambler. The picture, as far as I knew, was the only one left of that car. Dad had taken the picture of me standing by the driver’s side door, with Mom beside me. My hand was stretched out onto the roof of the car and my other arm was curled around my Mom’s waist, standing beside me.
We were looking through boxes of Mom’s old pictures. She passed away last year, three years after Dad. My eyes focused on the picture of my mother, about forty then but looking trim and youthful. We both wore big smiles, still innocent of what would happen in the car which, as Laura noted, was shared between my mother and me. I put the picture in my shirt pocket and joined the search for a picture of my beloved ’57 Chevy, the car in which Tom would had been conceived if Laura hadn’t been so insistent on me using condoms.
I enjoyed this part of the day, evening, after everyone else had gone to bed. I was sitting in my lazy boy, feet up, lights dimmed, TV showing the news but the sound turned way down, sipping a glass of 20 year old port. My thoughts turned back to the picture of the Rambler and I pulled it from my shirt pocket.
The Rambler. So many special memories. Laura was right about one thing. Mom did make Dad lend me the money to get a car, money I never paid back. And Mom didn’t want me to take Laura out in it, but Laura was a long ways away from the why of it. Thank god.
I closed my eyes, picturing those first days in the Rambler.
* * * * * * *
I sure as hell didn’t want that Rambler. It was a dorky looking car, that was for sure. I wouldn’t have minded, though, if it had been all mine but my father insisted that I could only have a car if I shared one with Mom and after a year, if I didn’t have any accidents, I could either buy her out or get one on my own. I was pissed at having to share a car, and more pissed at the car Dad picked out. But wheels were wheels so I capitulated, with as much grace as I could muster under the circumstances.
I didn’t need to look at the picture to remember the Rambler or to see Mom as she was then. Mom was a tall woman, only a couple of inches shorter than me, and thin. Her face, outlined by dark hair worn straight to just touch her shoulders, was a little too drawn to be called pretty. She would more aptly have been described as a handsome woman. But one thing that did stand out about her was her lithe figure and normal sized breasts that seemed overly large and pert on such a long, slender frame. Perhaps to compensate for her not-quite-there beauty, Mom had a penchant for wearing tight sweaters made of soft material that tended to cling to her breasts, emphasizing their size and perfect form. The picture certainly showed that the way she was standing beside me, leaning in with her head against my chest, her body twisted so that one breast was thrust out more than the other. Her straight hair was unique then, too. At that time, if a woman wore her hair mid-length, it fell just past her shoulders and was flipped up and out in a little semi-curl. Mom’s fell just short of her shoulder and curled in, like a modern cut today.
How did it all start? … What was it?
Oh, Yeah. I was arguing because I wanted the car on Saturday night but I had already had it Friday night and all day Saturday. Mom wasn’t using it but my Dad imposed his will and said I couldn’t have the car all weekend, no reason provided. That was it. I could go to the drive-in in Tim’s car for a change. It didn’t matter that the Rambler, with its fold-down 60/40 seat was better for the drive in — how could I explain that to my Dad, especially in front of my mother? Not that we had any dates lined up, but we were always hopeful that we could pick something up cruising the town before the movie. Mom lobbied for me but Dad’s mind was set and that was that.
That’s when Tim phoned and, after I broke the news, told me that his Mom was using ‘his’ car — he was in the same stupid car situation as me — to go to the drive-in because there was a movie on that she wanted to see. Tim’s mom knew we always parked his car anyway and used mine. She was a little more with it than my parents.
So now it looked like we had to go to the drive-in with Tim’s mom in tow. We weren’t in the cool crowd at school and this would certainly make sure that never happened. Mom overheard me talking on the phone and signaled that she wanted to talk to Tim’s mom. They were friends of course, as many people the same age were in a small town like ours. On the phone, Mom invited herself to see the movie too, and then hung up.
I was left standing looking at the wall phone as Mom walked into the living room to inform Dad that Tim’s Mom wanted company to see a movie so she was going to join her and they would use our car so Tim and I could use his. She turned back to me as Dad nodded his consent and told me to hurry so she wouldn’t be late for the show.
In the car, Mom confided that she didn’t really care about the movie. She was only going so I Tim and I could use our car and she would go with Tim’s Mom, Millie. I think that was the first time I realized that my mom was actually kind of cool.
Cooler than Tim’s mom anyway. It turned out that Millie didn’t want to go to the movie that was on in town after she heard about the double feature playing at the drive-in in Middleton where Tim and I wanted to go. Tim ran out to meet Mom and I to explain this. His mom wouldn’t relinquish the car, insisting that we take her and my mom to the drive-in, at least for the first movie which she wanted to see and then she’d turn over the car. As an added incentive, she offered to buy gas for the next two weeks and let him have the car both nights the following weekend. Tim implored me to agree. What could I do?
So we drove to the edge of town and dropped the car off in the empty, outside mall parking lot, the only one in town, and headed for Middleton in the Ramber with the two moms in the back seat. Just before town, I pulled over.
“What’s wrong?” Mom asked, leaning forward, concern in her voice. “Are we out of gas?”
“Then what’s wrong?”
Tim looked as confused as our moms.
“We can’t go into the drive-in like this.”
“Like what?” Tim piped in.
“With us sitting in front and two girls sitting in back,” I said impatiently, exasperated with his lack of insight. “We’ll look like real dorks.”
“It’s better than driving in with our moms,” Tim retorted
“No one will notice if they keep their faces turned away. We’ll be through the gate and in the dark before any sees.”
“Thanks a lot,” Millie spoke up. She turned to Mom, laughing, “God forbid they should be seen with two old dinosaurs.”
“Millie,” Mom said. “You remember what it was like to be a teenager. Let’s just switch seats until we get inside.” Without waiting for a response from Tim’s mom, Mom pushed on the seat behind me. “Let me out.”
Mom walked around and waited for Tim to crawl into the back to sit next to his Mom, who scooted over behind me. As we drove on, Mom took some money out of her purse and handed it to me. “Here, I’ll treat so you can pay quickly.”
I took the money and tried to make my appreciation for Mom’s understanding obvious in my voice. “Thanks Mom.” She didn’t say anything but reached over to affectionately pat my leg a couple of times.
At the gate, Mom turned to talk to Millie, not once facing the girl in the ticket booth. We were through in record time and I steered the car close to the far side, away from the usual gathering spot for kids from our town. I offered to fetch pop and popcorn and Tim’s mom insisted on paying. The first feature had started by the time I got back. I breathed a sigh of relief to see that everyone was still seated in the same spots.
After getting settled inside and handing out the drinks and popcorn, I said to Tim, “It’s a good thing you didn’t change seats.”
I ran into Anderson and that bunch with their girlfriends in the lineup. Anderson said he saw us parked over here and asked where we picked up the two older girls.”
Both of the moms laughed out loud. Tim was concerned, “What did you say?”
“I said we took a spin by the college and got lucky. I told him I’d owe him one if they didn’t bug us and he said ok but I had to spill the beans if we got lucky. Getts said they’d be too busy themselves anyway. I don’t know what Karen see in him, lucky asshole. … Sorry, Mom.”
“What a riot,” Millie laughed. “This is hilarious. Come on, Mary, let’s take a walk.”
“Mom, don’t!” Tim yelled, restraining his mom as she tried to reach past Mom for the door handle.
“I’m just kidding, don’t freak out,” Millie gasped, laughing so hard now she could hardly speak. “We’ll play along.”
Mom looked at me, reassuring, “Yes, we’ll play along.”
We all turned to watch the movie. About ten minutes later, Millie complained.
“Tim, what are you doing?”
I looked in the mirror to see Tim’s shadowy head moving into the middle of the backseat, squeezing his mom into the corner.
“I can’t sit way over there,” he said. “It will look like we bombed out.”
“What?” Millie sounded confused.
“If we’re sitting way apart, those guys will think we bombed out and Rick and I will get the shit bugged out of us on Monday.”
“Watch your language,” Millie said, then, with more understanding, “Oh, I see.” There was further rustling in the dark as Tim completed his move, then Millie complained, “But I can’t see through the middle now.”
“Rick,” Tim said. “Move over.”
I didn’t move, staying behind the wheel. Tim pushed on the seat several times, hard enough to jerk me ahead.
“Come on, move over. Don’t blow it.”
“Come on, honey,” Mom kicked in. “I won’t bite you.” She picked the popcorn up from the seat, opened the glove box and set it there. “Come on, play the game,” she beckoned.
I shifted over about half way from behind the wheel, leaving about a foot between us. Silence settled into the car, except for the sound of the movie from the speaker box hanging in the window, the munching of popcorn, and the odd suck through a straw. After another ten minutes or so, Tim’s mom spoke again.
“Timmy, can you pull the seat back so I can see over it?” Her voice was quieter, almost like a real date half an hour into a movie.
Tim wiggled the seat. “Move over more, Rick.”
I complied and Rick must have leaned down to pull the seat lever because it pulled back as soon as I shifted over. I had to move even more then to support myself and ended pressed very close to Mom. I felt awkward.
“Sorry, Mom,” I whispered.
“It’s ok. You haven’t cuddled with me since you were little. I don’t mind,” she assured me.
Mom nestled against me and I put my arm around her a minute later, not knowing what else to do with it. As the movie played on, we gradually shifted about, getting more comfortable, Mom turning her back a little more to the door and me shifting closer to her because the screen was to the left of the car and I needed to twist toward Mom to save my neck.
Silence reigned in the car again. In the quiet, I became aware of Mom as a woman, even before the first sex scene. The scent of her perfume, tastefully applied in small amounts, filled my nostrils. I found myself pretending that I was relieving my neck by looking away from the screen but I was really looking at the front of Mom’s sweater, pleased to see that she was wearing one with a deep ‘V’ cut that showed the inner swells of her breasts. I truly hadn’t noticed until then but, once seen, I couldn’t help looking again and again. Mom didn’t seem to notice my attention.
Mom’s breasts were captivating in the flickering cinematic light. She must have been wearing one of those bras that connected only at the bottom because I could see quite a bit of her cleavage without any sign of a white restraint. On my umpteenth perusal of her assets, Mom suddenly fidgeted and I thought I had been caught. This would be awkward. But she only complained about her foot going to sleep and lifted her left knee to dangle her leg over mine. I was thrilled when the flickering light revealed that Mom’s skirt had been pushed back from her knees to reveal tantalizing glimpses of tender, white thigh.
For the next while I was torn between admiring Mom’s breasts and trying to dig my eyes deeper under her skirt between her legs, trying to catch a glimpse of white panty. I was also surprised to realize that at some point I had started toying with Mom’s hair and stroking the nape of her neck. Stranger yet, she hadn’t said a thing or given any indication that she was even aware I was doing it!
Just then, there a rustling in the backseat, followed by Millie whispering.
“What are you doing? … Stop it, Tim.”
“Shhhhhh.” I presumed it was Tim responding. “Just play along or they’ll figure it out.”
More rustling followed by an unintelligible protest, then a long pause. I looked at Mom and she looked back at me. We were still regarding each other when we heard the unmistakable sound of kissing. Mom’s eyes widened, as I’m sure mine did, and then looked into the backseat. I kept my gaze fixed on Mom’s face and I remember clearly thinking that she wasn’t just handsome, she was beautiful. Mom looked back at me, eyes sparkling, her face crinkling up into a conspiratorial smile of shared discovery.
“Someone was standing behind the car. I think those guys are checking us out.”
Millie’s response was cut off by the sound of more kissing. Mom smiled at me again and turned back to watch the movie but I had to twist my head around to see if Tim really was kissing his mom. He was. They were necking as hard as he did with any girl I’d seen him with. When I turned back, I cast my eyes down over Mom’s chest and suddenly realized that my left hand was on the outside of her right knee. I must have moved it naturally when I twisted around. Mom was paying it no attention, so I left it where it was.
When the light flickered brightly across Mom’s features I again realized how truly beautiful she now seemed. As the light dimmed, I impulsively leaned forward and kissed her lightly on the cheek in response to the overwhelming affection I felt for her at that moment.
Mom turned, perhaps in surprise. She must have mistaken my intent, thinking I wanted her to play along like Millie was doing with her son, for she leaned forward and kissed me softly on my lips. I was taken completely by surprise and was shocked into stillness but when Mom’s lips stayed pressed to mine, I kissed her back. She didn’t pull away when my lips began moving on hers so I curled my arm tighter around her neck and started to really kiss her. And kiss her, and kiss her.
I lost track of time. I don’t know how long we were necking but when the drive-lin lights flicked to indicate the end of the first movie and concession time, my tongue was inside my mother’s mouth and I continued to kiss her while the credits scrolled up the screen behind me. When I relented to the gentle pressure of Mom’s hands against my chest, I realized that Mom had settled further into the door and I was leaning over her. Mom smiled sweetly at me, perhaps to show me that she wasn’t upset with me. I looked down and realized that my hand had slipped up the outside of Mom’s leg from her knee and was now underneath her skirt, though still on the outside of her thigh. I pulled back to sit upright, reluctantly dragging my hand with me. I turned to look into the backseat.
Tim and his mom were looking back at me, a little sheepishly. They were somewhat disheveled and Millie’s legs were stretched over top of her son’s, like Mom’s were still stretched over mine. Millie was lying more prone than Mom, having settled deeper into the corner of the backseat. I could see in the still quite dim light that Tim had a big smile on his face. His hand was on his mother’s leg, still slightly under her skirt, but inside her legs! I quickly turned away to hide the shock on my face.
Mom was still lying back against the door. “Well, Millie, that was fun,” she said languidly stretching her body, her bottom pushing my legs further away. “Should we get going?”
“No let’s stay for the next movie.”
“I don’t know, Millie. It’s getting late. I really should go home.”
“But I told Norm we were going to a double feature,” Millie complained, adding to her argument after a brief pause. “And it isn’t fair to make the kids leave so early.”
I looked back to see Tim’s face still painted with his satisfied smile, his hand draped casually between his mother’s legs, near her knees. I looked back at his face and he flared his eyes to acknowledge what I’d seen. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed his hand slip an inch further between his mother’s legs.
“I don’t know, Millie. I think we’ve played enough games for one night.” Mom shifted upright, sliding her legs across mine but she didn’t twist them off, staying turned toward the backseat as she continued talking to her friend, leaning with her elbow on the top of the seat. I noticed how her outstretched arm tightened her sweater over her breast and was able to truly appreciate its magnificent shape when Mom suddenly lifted her hand to brush her hair away from her face.
“Oh, come on. How often do we get to do something new. We should stay until just before the end of the movie so those kids will think our sons hit it really big with some college girls. They’ll be heroes.”
I noticed Mom glance down at her friend’s knees, then quickly fix on Millie’s face again. She must have seen Tim’s hand.
“Yeah, c’mon Mom,” Tim pitched in, adding his plea to his mom’s. “Help us out.”
Mom looked at me, possibly surprised by how far Millie had ‘played along’ yet not wanting to deprive her friend of something she seemed to want, or perhaps she simply felt awkward and wanted an excuse to look away.
“Do you want to stay longer, Rick?”
I looked into her eyes. “Yes.”
Mom nodded. “Ok, then.”
She twisted her legs around off of mine then, leaning down to get her purse. She fixed her face and brushed her hair, all the while chatting to Millie about the movie the way she would normally talk to her when they were having tea together. Obviously, she’d been watching the movie, unlike myself who couldn’t have told you a thing about it. Looking back on it now, I realized that she never did say anything about the last part of the movie.
Anyway, when the movie started again, everyone quieted down. Mom kicked her shoes off and swung her legs up onto mine as the car darkened. She scooted down to rest her bottom against my legs which made her lean further into the door than before. I quickly resumed my survey of her chest and skirt. I was pleased to notice that her scooting action had pushed her skirt higher on her legs so the hem was now stretched across her upper thighs and the bottom of the sweater had pushed up as well, leaving a thin band of tummy showing. I was truly thrilled when I noticed a flash of white panty as Mom squirmed about to get comfortable, her legs parting in the process. She didn’t close them and I began to twitch under my pants.
“Mmmmmm.” Tim and his mom had wasted no time resuming their deep kissing.
I looked at Mom to find her watching me with a big smile on her face. I was thankful that the car was dark enough that she wouldn’t be able to see my face go red at getting caught looking under her skirt but Mom seemed oblivious to my transgression, holding her arms out toward me. I leaned toward her and naturally slid my right arm under hers, past her waist and behind her back instead of around her neck like before. My face closed on hers and she closed her eyes, lifting her mouth towards mine. It was only seconds before my tongue slid inside her mouth. She sucked me in.
A minute later, in the middle of an urgent kiss, I put my hand on her leg and slid it up until it slipped under her skirt. Mom offered no protest, despite the fact that it was no longer on the outside of her leg but on top of her thigh with my thumb trailing down between her legs, grazing the soft part of her inner leg where the muscle thickens. Would she have been so accepting if she hadn’t noticed Tim’s hand between his mother’s legs?
I kissed Mom for a long time, not daring to move my hand, afraid to call attention to its new position. Eventually, since she had shown no indication that she was aware of any difference, I let my thumb slowly slide back and forth, gently caressing the inside of her upper leg. Mom didn’t object. If anything, our kissing intensified. Slowly, I tried to push my hand deeper under Mom’s skirt, dragging my grazing thumb higher until I was scraping up and down on the inside of her upper thigh.
I was so far under her skirt, I should have been scraping the inside of both thighs but I wasn’t. I realized with titillating surprise that Mom must have opened her legs more in response to my caress. My cock, already very hard, stiffened even more, straightening through the leg of my underwear and stretching down inside my jeans.
Several more minutes of seriously long snogs and my hand reached the bend in Mom’s leg that signaled my progression onto her hip. I continued to push, my thumb grazing warmer and softer, slightly damp flesh. Our breathing was rapid, shallow and ragged, our chests heaving together, but Mom displayed no signals that she wanted me to stop.
And then, the tip of my thumb, on a downward slide, scraped down the front of Mom’s panties. I felt her tense up and when I dragged my thumb up, exerting sufficient pressure to push a wave of panty ahead of my thumbnail, Mom pulled her lips away from mine.
“Ricky, no,” she whispered, much more quietly than the frantic whispers we continued to hear from the backseat. There was no question only I could hear her quiet protest. I liked the way Mom was more private than her friend.
“They won’t know,” I whispered hoarsely into Mom’s ear, even more quietly than she, as if that were the only concern. Before she could answer, I swept my thumb through its downward arc, making sure the tip rubbed down the front of her panties, trying to find the center groove.
“Shhhhhh,” I whispered, pressing my lips to hers. My thumb made several more return trips while I applied the gentlest, most seductive and nonthreatening kiss I could muster.
When the kiss broke, Mom protested quietly again, “Ricky, no.”
I kept moving my thumb, slowly up and down, now in the groove.
“Shhhhhhh,” I whispered, raining several quick and fluttery kisses on her lips, sliding the tip of my tongue along the breadth of her lips, dipped slightly between, then slowly pushing my tongue inside her mouth. I lined my thumb up along Mom’s groove and rocked it from side to side, slowly turning her shallow trench into a small valley that threatened to flood from within.
When I couldn’t hold the kiss any longer, our lips parted but there was no further protest from Mom. I continued rubbing her panties, loving the little reactions that were now evident on her beautiful face even in the dim, flickering light. Mom’s right leg moved, opening her thighs even wider to improve my access. Quick to take advantage of her welcome, I expanded the territory my thumb encompassed, rubbing all around now, determining the outline of the pussy lying underneath those damp, white panties. I showered fluttery little kisses with my lips and the tip of my tongue all over Mom’ face, loving the way her head tipped back, stretching her neck, offering it to my welcoming lips. The look of ecstasy on her face almost made me cum.
I had twisted my hand now so my fingers stretched down between Mom’s legs and my thumb was circling around at the top of her mound, digging inside there to find a little nub that Mom seemed to really like having rubbed. She was mine now. She was twisting her hips in tiny movements, up against my fingers and thumb, pushing into me, grinding against my hand.
“Ricky … ohhhh … Ricky,” she whispered, so quietly.
“I love you … I love you,” I answered to each call of my name and uncontrolled, trembling, “ohhhhhh.”
She was moving faster and faster, her hips bucking, the ‘ohhhhhs’ so frequent they were almost strung together. I changed my whispered response. ‘I love you’ was too long to answer her ‘ohhhhhs’.
“Fuck,” I whispered, over and over, pushing my hand hard against her panties, squeezing and rubbing her frantic mound.
Suddenly, her legs stiffened and her hand clamped onto mine, holding it in place. Her back arched as she strained against my hand, her mouth open in a silent scream. My hand felt warm and wet and I kept it against her panties when she relaxed, falling back into the seat. I watched Mom’s face, eyes closed and full of grace, keeping my hand lightly pressed against her pussy but not moving.
After a minute Mom opened her eyes and smiled at me, looking satisfied and at peace with the world. She gave no indication that I should remove my hand so I kept it there. Her eyes strayed as if trying to look over the back of the seat which she could no longer do from her slumped position. Mom’s smile widened as she listened to the louder whispers and moans emanating from the backseat, the sounds leaving no doubt about what was going on. Millie sounded like she was about to reach orgasm but then her low moans subsided. A moment later this was repeated. Tim was teasing the shit out of his mother.
Mom’s smile turned into a silent grin. With her eyes on me, I pulled my right arm from behind her back and slipped my hand under the front of her sweater, bringing it to rest on her left breast. Mom shook her head from side to side.
“They’re almost finished,” she whispered.
I persisted, gently squeezing her tit. Her head continued to shake but her expression changed to one of resignation as I continued milking her breast. It changed again, however, when my fingers slid down to bottom of her bra and tried to flip it up and over her tit.
“No,” she whispered, her head starting to shake again but more vigorously.
I ignored her and kept trying to flip her bra up. Head still shaking, but more slowly, Mom’s hands suddenly appeared. I braced myself to resist the push I expected but instead Mom lifted her sweater up and pulled her bra off with it. I was staring down at her bare tits for the first time in my life.
They were awesome. They had to be for I was in awe. Even lying back, they burst up from her chest, capped by darkened aureoles about an inch and a half wide with protruding, stiff nipples rising more than half an inch from each proud tit. I leaned down and sucked the nearest one into my mouth and didn’t let go of it lest she change her mind. Mom’s hands curled around the back of my head, holding my mouth on her breast. I sucked and sucked and sucked until I felt her moving against my other hand again. I kept sucking but I started rubbing too. Soon, I was loudly slurping and she was moaning as she literally fucked my hand, no longer worried about being quiet. She came for the second time a couple of minutes later, once again arching her back and stretching rigid, her panties shuddering in my squeezing palm.
When Mom fell back and we began recouping our breath, Millie’s voice sounded from the backseat.
“Should we all have a smoke.”
All of us burst out laughing. We laughed for a long time, took a breather, and started laughing again. The joke wasn’t that funny but it was a perfect edge on which to release our tension about how to renew our interaction as a foursome. It allowed all of us to acknowledge what had happened, leaving no need for secrecy, not between us. I remember finding it strange that I had considered us a foursome, Tim and I and our two mothers, excluding our fathers. I turned it over in my mind, becoming more comfortable with the thought of us as the men for them, and then thinking it was natural, meant to be.
“Is the movie almost over?” Mom asked.
“Only half way through,” Millie replied.
There was a long silence broken a few minutes later by renewed rustling and kissing in the back, quickly followed by quiet murmurs. They were at it again. I looked down at Mom’s gorgeous tits and was about to descend to possess them again when she shook her head. This time, I obeyed.
Mom reached down to my jeans. She didn’t undo them like I had hoped but her slender hand slipped inside and stretched down, inside my shorts, searching for my hard cock. Quickly, I grasped my belt and expertly unbuckled it, then twisted the button undone, pulling to open the zipper. Mom’s hand slid down, finding and sliding along my member until she found the tip, squeezing it, milking it. I tried to twist toward her and she opened her legs to let me rise up to face her.
After making it so hard I thought it could never be pulled out of my pants, Mom deftly defied physics and pulled me upright and free. Immediately, she started stroking my cock, staring at my cock, fascinated, almost as if she hadn’t seen one before. She jacked me and jacked me, fast and slow, sometimes pausing to stretch my cock up for a close examination. On one such inspection, I twisted toward her to make it easier for her to see and she pulled me closer, opening her mouth and swirling her tongue across her lips in a provocative come on. I leaned closer and Mom jacked my throbbing cock at her face.
I don’t think she ever meant to take me inside her mouth but when a splatter of precum flew off my cock onto her face, her eyes focused on the sticky cream oozing from my tip. Mom’s mouth suddenly opened wider and she slumped very low in the seat. I pushed my hips forward to follow but didn’t stop a few inches away where she’d been holding me. I nosed my cock between her lips, and pushed inside.
Fucking glorious! Incredible. I had never, ever had my cock sucked before. I was crammed into the corner, against the side of the car, my cock trying to slide further into Mom’s hot, wet mouth. I immediately tried to fuck her face but she was controlling how far inside I could get. I was still trying to jam it into her when she suddenly wrapped her hands around my legs in a frantic effort to hold me in instead of out. I realized too late that she could sense I was about to cum and was trying to keep my cock in her mouth so I didn’t make a huge mess, but as I said, I was too late.
I exploded, detonating on Mom’s face. Some gushed inside but since I was still pumping, I pulled out and squirted some on Mom’s nose and cheek, then I was back inside for a prolonged gush and out again, spraying her chin and neck, then back in for good, humping, humping, humping. Finally, I was still, and pulled out, mortified at what I’d done.
Mom was lying with her eyes closed. “Hand me my purse,” she gurgled.
I reached down and passed it into her blindly waving hands, sickened yet awestruck by the sight of her face covered in my cum. As Mom opened her purse and dug inside until she found and extracted a wad of tissues, a strange thought crossed my mind. It burst into my mind fully formed. ‘I’ve marked her,’ I thought, ‘Marked her for life.’
I apologized several times while Mom cleaned her face. She comforted me as she cleaned her face, saying that it wasn’t my fault, that it was probably my first time and I didn’t know any better, that I would know for next time.
I turned at the sudden increase in backseat moaning just in time to see Tim blow his load. His jeans were down to his knees but his shorts were still pulled up. He was dry humping his mother with gay abandon. Her legs were wrapped around him and though I couldn’t see, I was sure she was still wearing her panties. Mom was watching too and when I turned to look into her eyes just as they both starting cumming, I whispered, “No one saw.”
Mom nodded. “Our secret,” she whispered back.
By the time Tim and Millie were done, Mom and I were all straightened up and ready to leave.
The following Monday, the legend had already spread around the school. The Rambler had been observed, all fogged up, bouncing on its springs, but it had left before anyone caught a glimpse of the mystery college girls. Tim and I became minor heroes and were suddenly sought after by some girls that hadn’t given us the time of day before. But we were elusive. Rumors started that we were hung up with the college girls but they had left us behind. We, of course, weren’t talking.