Page 05
Mom dropped her hand from the wheel again, this time grasping the zipper on the front of her dress. She tugged it down a couple of inches, loosening the dress sufficiently that her breasts sagged down her chest instead of sticking almost straight out. The effect was marvelous, opening and separating her tits, making them appear far sexier. I wanted to grab them right away.
"Here we are." Mom turned off the country road onto a farming road that twisted away in the distance over low, rolling hills. She sped up and we bumped our way down the road, Mom laughing as we crested hills and sunk like a roller coaster down the far sides. I was less interested in the countryside, preferring to watch Mom's loosened tits tumble around on her chest. My hand was unable to keep her skirt bunched up by her waist. It dropped to the seat with my hand as I tried to brace myself to resist the jolting ride, providing me with an excuse to rub that skirt up and down the front of Mom's panties as we bounced along.
After suffering several miles of this, Mom pulled off onto the tall, rough grass and drove about 100 feet off the road. She jolted to a stop just as I realized we were nearing the edge of a small bluff overlooking the fields below and the highway we had exited far away in the distance. The car lurched to a stop as Mom braked hard stopping must before the edge of the bluff. She threw the car into park and shut the engine off. Silence descended on us. Mom gazed out the windshield and I looked down at my hand firmly cupping Mom's panties.
Mom followed my gaze down. Looking at my hand, she said, "You've been a very naughty boy lately, Jason."
This didn't sound like Sandy talking. I nodded and kept very still, not knowing what to expect.
I was thrilled when I felt Mom's panties press onto my hand and squeezed it in acknowledgement.
"Did you think if you came out here today, you'd be able to nail 'Sandy'?"
Mom twisted her hips, bumping her panties harder against my hand to emphasize her query.
Caught flat-footed, I was tongue-tied. Why do guys think we're so clever when we're really quite clumsy? We should leave the subtlety game to women.
"Ahhh Mom," Mom nodded knowingly. "You were hoping for Sandy but ended up with Sandra?"
Mom laughed and I was relieved that she didn't seem angry.
"Don't look so shocked. At least you're smarter than your father. Like most men, he thinks a woman is one or the other: a Sandy or a Sandra. With all his years he still doesn't know that every woman has some of both inside, even if they don't show it. They're just not there at the same time."
Mom bumped me with her panties again.
"Don't have to look so scared. I'm not going to take your little toy away from you, if that's what you're worried about."
Mom pushed her panties up and rubbed them in my hand.
"See. You can still play. You're just not going to get what were hoping for, what you thought you were going to get on the hill. So just take your time and be happy with what you do get. You're not going to have it all."
Mom bumped her panties against my hand several times.
"Go ahead," she whispered, putting her hand on my cheek, then curling it around behind my neck "play with it if you want."
I moved slightly, rubbing Mom's mound.
"That's it," Mom cried, sucking in her breath. "I like it when you play," she whispered.
As my hand rubbed, Mom pulled my head toward hers. She covered my lips with hers and sucked my face. When we broke for air, my hand was frigging her more rapidly.
"Take your time," Mom said. "We have all afternoon and you're not getting much more than this."
I slowed my hand down.
"That's it. I like it when you go slow, and push way in."
I was surprised by Mom's second acknowledgement of my naughty activities at home. She was panting. Not as much as I was, but she was still quite excited. Maybe there was a chance she would get carried away, despite what she said.
"What kind of sandwich do you want?"
"What?" I cried.
"Do you want tomato with ham, or tuna with pickles?
My hand stopped. I was stunned. How could she..."
"I'm kidding," Mom said, laughing out loud. "Christ, the look on your face." She laughed hysterically.
Obviously, it was going to take a superhuman effort to get Mom carried away. I started working her panties while she laughed, manipulating her puss with independent action from each finger rather than just rubbing her with my hand. Mom's laughter faded away and was replaced by heavy breathing. Her hand pulled my neck closer but I skinned past her mouth to bury my face in her neck, latching on with my mouth.
"Don't give me a hickey," she cautioned.
I ignored her and sucked on her throat. My fingers had pushed her panties into her slit and were stroking her pubes on each side. I dug my Pathfinder inside, hooked the panties and pulled them out and to the side, baring her pussy. The Pathfinder plunged inside.
Mom gasped loudly.
"You can call me Sandy if it helps you," she whispered.
"I want Sandra," I spoke harshly, bending Mom's head back, sucking up the bottom of her chin until my mouth covered hers.
I pulled my fingers out of Mom's pussy, gathered them together into a unit, then pushed them inside her as I shoved my tongue into her mouth. Mom's legs spread as wide as she could get them in the confines of the car. If she wants me to play, I'll see how far I can go.
I lined my thumb up on top of Mom's clit and worked the rest of my fingers in and out of Mom's pussy, making it wetter and wetter. There was no need to worry about anyone hearing the loud sucking sounds, not out here. Mom may have had her pussy fingered a lot in her younger days, but nothing like this. She really liked it. She writhed around on the seat, twisting and arching her back, gasping for air one minute, sighing the next, moaning in between. Her hips were active, thrusting onto my hand as I twisted and worked it slowly in and out of her soaking hole.
Oh yeah. There was no question she loved this. She was right carried away. But I was certain if I tried to replace my hand with my cock, she would shut me down hard. No. It would take a long, sustained effort to get inside this hot cunt, but I was resolved to do it.
I was lifting Mom now, holding her up with my left arm around her waist and jigging her with all the fingers of my other hand. She was groaning very loudly. She was near, very near.
I whispered in her ear.
"Sandra, you're so fucking hot. Come on me. Come on my hand."
Those simple words triggered Mom's orgasm. She began thrashing wildly on my hand, moaning so loud she was almost yelling. I had never heard such sounds emanate from my parents' bedroom, and that made me feel strong.
When she finished flooding my wrist and I had pulled my soaked hand away, Mom asked me the question.
"So, ham or tuna?"
We both busted out laughing and were hardly able to stand as we stumbled to the trunk to get the picnic stuff. I managed to spread a blanket on the grass while Mom unloaded the basket, unwrapped the sandwiches, and handed me a single bottle of wine to open.
After Mom finished the first half of her sandwich, she took a long pull of wine and looked at me seriously.
"You're smarter than your Dad. He came here with Sandy and left with Sandra. He never looked in me for Sandy again."
Mom gazed off into the field below.
"Then he's a fool," I said.
She turned back to me.
"You do see things differently. Why do you want Sandra instead of Sandy?"
"Well, if you have something that's already warm, it doesn't get much hotter."
I nodded sagely, munching my tuna sandwich and crunching into a pickle. Mom looked at the field again.
"They all thought Sandy was so hot, she wanted to please so much. But it was Sandra who so desperately needed to be pleased, and would have given the man who did it the ride of his life."
Mom turned her eyes on mine again.
"Is that what you're hoping for?"
I nodded frankly, meeting Mom's gaze.
"You know I can't let you have it."
"You have to say no. I have to try."
Now I took a long sip of wine.
Mom smiled. "Just because a woman says no doesn't mean she doesn't want a man to try."
Mom finished her wine and wrapped up the other half of her sandwich, putting it and the empty glass back in the basket. She waited for me to finish. I had just started the second half of my sandwich.
"Unzip your dress," I said.
"Why?"
"I'm not finished eating and want to look at you." It was my turn to be strange.
"I'm not going to take my dress off."
I shrugged.
Mom unzipped her dress. Not slowly. She didn't tease. She just pulled it down to her waist and then leaned back on her hand, regarding me with a smile. Although her cleavage was exposed, her breasts were still confined by the opened dress.
"Push it off your shoulders."
Mom straightened up, looked down, and pushed the dress off her left shoulder. She looked back at me and held my eyes as she pushed it off the other shoulder, shrugging to hurry it off her tits.
They were gorgeous. The full, proud tits of a woman in her prime. Substantial, but not too large. Sagging a little, but far from droopy. Very sexy.
"Show me."
Mom arched her back and twisted her torso, lifting and thrusting her nipples into the warm breeze. I drained my glass and started to put my sandwich down.
"No."
I stopped, my eyes questioning. After what we'd already done, I couldn't touch her tits?
"If you don't finish your dinner, you can't have your pudding." Mom laughed, arched her back and pushed her hair up the sides of her head, onto the top, then let it fall messily to her shoulders. She kept her back arched and tits thrust far out.
"Is this what you want?"
I nodded vigorously, gulping my sandwich down. I reached for her glorious globes. Mom pushed them into my hands, shoving her hard nipples into my palms. After a few squeezes and nipple rolls, I eagerly lowered my head, searching for those thick nubs, my tongue already reaching. Mom's hands grabbed my head, holding me away.
"Do you really think I want tuna all over them?"
"What?" I asked groggily.
"Have some more wine," Mom said, reaching for the bottle.
I grabbed my glass and Mom poured it half full. Quickly, I filled my mouth, then gargled it and spat it into the grass. I dove for her tits.
"Good god," Mom laughed. "All right, all right. Have at it."
She put her hands behind my head and pulled it to her as I noisily devoured her luscious tits, sucking her hardening nipples deep into my mouth. I pushed her onto her back and gave her tits the sucking of their life. Eventually, I managed to get on top of her and, squeezing a tit hard in each hand, ground my short-covered cock on her skirt-covered pussy.
I wouldn't break the rules, but I was determined to make her come again, in a way that was everything but fucking. Mom welcomed my bulge on her mound, spreading her legs and rubbing against me like she really needed it. But it proved to be me that needed it more. I came quickly, overwhelmed by the feel of her below me, her arms and legs wrapped around me, like we were really doing it. I exploded in my pants as I frantically humped her.
All I could think about as the throes of my passion subsided was that I hoped I hadn't hurt her tits. They were all swollen and showed red finger marks where I had gripped them so hard, squirting my seed as close to Mom as I could get. I turned onto my back on the blanket, trying to recover my breath.
"Did you bring another pair of shorts?" Mom asked.
"No," I shook my head.
"Oh my. That will be a messy ride home, won't it."
"Very funny Mother."
"Oh. It's not Sandy, or Sandra anymore."
"Mom," I complained, not in the mood to be teased.
"Well, it's a good thing it was your mother you were humping away on. Who else would think ahead to bring a clean set of clothes."
Mom got up and went to the trunk, returning with a clean pair of shorts and underwear. WTF.
"Come on. Take those dirty things off."
I pushed my shorts and underwear down and kicked them off. I was startled, to say the least, when Mom poured half a water bottle on me and started cleaning me with a wash cloth. Thank god it was warm from lying out in the sun. When she was finished, I reached for my underwear but Mom stopped me.
"Let it get some Vitamin D."
So there I lay, t-shirt on but cock bare to the sun and wind, with my mother watching. Of course, I got another erection under her watchful gaze.
"Wonderful," Mom said, admiring my pole standing perfectly perpendicular to my stomach. "So strong and proud. It's a good thing I brought lots of water."
Mom picked up a small bottle from the picnic basket and applied a liquid to her hands, then rubbed them together. I assumed it was the bacterial soap she was so insistent upon using whenever we were on a picnic or short hike.
Suddenly, she reached out and grasped my tool in her soft hand and started jacking me off. Slow, then hard, then slow again. She worked her hands around my cock, tickling my balls, and teasing the tip mercilessly. She had wiped some kind of oil on her hands, not bacterial soap. Her hands were so wonderfully soft, yet supple and slippery. My own hands were nothing in comparison to hers. I won't go on about how she masturbated me in that field. It went on for a long time and, though she brought her face teasingly close several times to blow her hot breath on me, she never let it touch her mouth. When I came, I shot ropes of cum several feet in the air, most of which fell back on me.
"Tsk, tsk, tsk," Mom reprimanded me. "Do you think I don't have anything else to do?" she asked as she cleaned me up a second time. "Get dressed," she said when she was finished. "We have to go soon."
Mom had turned onto her stomach by the time I finished dressing. I sat beside her and slid my hand up her thighs and dipped between her legs to rub the back of her pussy. She shook her hips.
"No, baby. Just lie beside me for a while."
I snuggled close to her and rested my hands on my folded arms, as she was doing.
"So," Mom said. "Quite a day, huh?"
I nodded, a big grin breaking out on my face. Mom matched me.
"I guess we have to go back and face that cheating husband of mine."
I nodded.
"I guess we showed him a thing or two about cheating, didn't we?"
"Yup," I agreed.
"He knows as much about cheating as he does about women, and fucking," Mom added. "Oops, I shouldn't say things like that in front of you. It's not fair."
"You mean about fucking?"
"Yes."
"I don't mind."
"But you can't have it. It was cruel of me. I didn't mean it, baby."
"That's ok. I want to talk about fucking with you."
"It won't work mister. Getting me to think about it," Mom caught and corrected herself, "talk about it, won't get you any closer to it."
"We'll see," I smiled.
"Brat," Mom smiled back.
"It would be the best you ever had. That's a promise."
"Ooohhhh, now who's the big man?" Mom teased.
I didn't bite. "I mean it. No one could try as hard me to awaken all the women inside you."
Mom looked at me seriously. "I believe you, but it just can't happen, Jason."
"It doesn't hurt to think about it."
"No."
"Just think about it."
"No," Mom repeated firmly, but quietly.
I left it at that. We spent an hour lying next to each other in that field, heads on folded arms, facing one another. Sometimes we both had closed eyes, more often just one of us, but most of all, we gazed quietly into each other's eyes.
Finding Mom
Though the nature of our relationship was still covert, I no longer needed to fear rebuke and rejection from Mom. In some ways, I missed the adventure in being unsure of Mom's reaction. The intense anxiety accompanying those first incestuous caresses that societal taboos were designed to activate, failed to prevent their targeted behaviors. It was those fearful forays that partly produced the extreme elation of success, of actually doing it and getting away with it.
On the other hand, I wouldn't trade for anything my new freedom of access to Mom's enchanting body. That is, when Dad wasn't around, or at least, wasn't guaranteed to catch us. Sometimes I wondered if Mom really wanted to get caught because of the chances she let me take. One time I actually fingered her, not just rubbed her panties mind you, but actually fingered her while she read a book on the couch with Dad sitting in his chair behind her. Stroking my cock as I lay beside her patio lounge, with Dad reclining next to her, became a regular weekend occurrence.
Many evenings, Mom told Dad that one of his favorite shows was on, or brought home DVDs of movies she knew he loved, then yawned and retired early. I always went to bed early too, or at least up to my room to study or play a video game. Dad never seemed to notice, or at least he didn't mention our mutual absence.
One Saturday, I was kissing Mom in the kitchen while Dad was having a siesta on his lounge by the pool. I had Mom turned with her back to the sink so I could keep an eye on Dad through the kitchen window. I had managed to slip my hand inside her blouse and loosened her bra. Mom's hard nipple was aggressively trying to poke a hole through my hand and my thigh was working in her crotch. She was excited so I knew she would find a way for us to be alone that night so I could finger her pussy and suck her tits, our regular agenda. I always came during these sessions, even though I had usually come in the afternoon from Mom's delicate manipulation of my cock, so Mom never had to do anything more for me.
I wanted more now. The summer was nearing an end and I couldn't bear the thought of being so far away from the woman I loved, especially since I hadn't managed to dissuade Mom of her conviction that intercourse was out of the question for us.
Dangerously, I engaged Mom in a long kiss. Dangerous because I couldn't observe Dad while I was kissing her like that. I became too involved when we kissed, the rest of the world faded when my mouth was on hers. When the kiss ended, I knew I couldn't wait until tonight. I wanted her now, and I needed more.
"Do you suck him?" I asked, pulling hard on Mom's tits, one in each hand.
"Don't talk about him." Mom pushed against my thigh, opening her legs so her pussy could ride along the ridge of my femur.
"Come on Sandra, tell me." Despite what she said that day in the country, Mom loved it when I called her Sandra. I often whispered her name to initiate our sexual interplay and again in the end while she was coming.
"Why? What does it matter?"
"It matters." I lifted my knee, almost pushing Mom off the floor. She wobbled as she tried to maintain her balance, pushing from one tippy-toe to the other as her crotch rocked over my thigh.
"Not since you were born. He never asked after that. Because I was a mother, I guess. I never liked the taste of him anyway," Mom whispered, then added for my benefit. "I couldn't bear to have him in my mouth now."
"What about me?"
"What about you?" Mom gasped as I pulled her nipples, lifting her tits up high.
"Do you like the way I taste?"
"I don't know, I never...Oh, I see. Is that what you want? You want something I won't give to him, don't you?"
I tweaked her nipples in reply.
"What if I don't like it?" Mom looked up at me. "Don't say anything. I can see it in your face.
I worked my knee around under Mom's crotch, taking care to tug her nipples out the way she loved so much. Mom rocked her hips, rubbing her pussy in a hard fucking motion on my thigh.
"Ohhhh, baby. You've really got me going." Mom turned around for a quick glance at the patio. "I'll get rid of him. You hide, and I'll send him to the store or something."
