Backseat Ride: Sitting on Son's Lap

Author's notes:

All characters are 18+ years old.

Edited story to fix the name change issue.

***

My son, Lucus, was heading off to college. It was a relatively cool August day, by Austin standards, in the high 80s. Lucas, my husband Cody, and I were building up a sweat loading our big Lexus SUV. The front seat and the space behind the back seat were already stuffed full of moving boxes, and the back seat behind the driver was also piled to the roof. Lucas and I were trying to fit a big framed acrylic painting my son had done on the floor of the back seat. It was a seemingly abstract painting where, if you looked long enough, you'd suddenly see a nude with olive skin and slim thicc curves. Which, coincidentally, is an accurate description of me. I'm short, five feet even and just over a hundred pounds, with a slim waist, but large breasts and an equally curvy booty.

I've had unsolicited comments by many men that I'm a good looking woman, especially for being in my mid-30s. And if you've done the math on that... well, I don't recommend following my lead and being a pregnant teenager. Especially with a handsome but integrity challenged man who, I belatedly discovered, viewed our marriage vows as more of a guideline than a strict rule. As in, recently finding out he was cheating on me with what I had to assume, knowing his character, was a barely legal girl of 18 or so, 20 at most. Basically, a potential trophy wife to recapture his youth. My husband hadn't even done me the courtesy of being discreet, and then had compounded it by lying to me - while I was smelling her perfume and the scent of their recent sex. Having your man tell you he's not cheating even though he smells of The Other Woman's cunt, because he doesn't grasp that you're smarter than him and have a much better sense of smell, is not conducive to a loving relationship.

The lying is arguably worse than the cheating -- if he had had the cojones to fess up and end that affair, I might have forgiven him, since I inexplicably still love the cheating bastard. Because he'd doubled down on lies, the frequency with which we'd had sex in the tumultuous week since, had plummeted to Not At All. He wasn't particularly interested anyway, what with having a younger girl to fuck. And I wasn't inclined to be his backup side chick, what with having self-respect and all.

***

Cody stared at the painting taking up most of the floor space behind the front seats, and obstructing the SUV's view to the rear. "That can't go. I gotta see traffic behind me."

The first rule of parenting is Make It The Kid's Problem To Solve. My husband being a large manchild, I applied that principle: "That's the only place it'll fit. And if we don't take it, you're gonna pay hundreds of dollars to ship that painting."

"Then it stays home."

Lucus had come out with the last armful of boxes, which he was wedging into the seating area behind the painting. "My painting, dad. It's coming with me."

"That painting cuts off most the legroom in the back. We'd only have one usable seat back there. Where's your mom gonna sit?"

"Mom doesn't weigh much. How about it, mom? You mind sitting on my lap?"

"Umm... I guess that's OK? Don't see another way to get everything in the Lexus."

"Hell no," Cody said. "I'm gonna clear everything off the front seat, and whatever doesn't fit in the car we leave behind. That way you can sit up front with me."

"Do you really think I want to talk to YOU for three hours? After... you know...? I'll hang out with my son."

Lucus' eyes darted back and forth, trying to figure out the contentious discussion between Cody and me. Then his eyes went wide. He's a smart kid. Figured it out.

Before Cody could reply, Lucus said, "Dad. What the hell?"

"I... uh..."

"Dad. Just... don't. No excuses. And we ain't leaving my stuff here. Mom sits in the back seat with me."

"Fine." His look said it wasn't fine at all, but he desperately didn't want to have that... awkward... discussion with his kid.

Lucus was still giving Cody a 'Have You Lost Your Damn Mind' look.

"We all smell pretty ripe," I said, changing the subject. "Let's all take showers, and then hit the road so we can arrive before it gets dark."

***

My shower didn't take long. Three hours is a long time to sit on someone's lap, so I wanted to wear something comfortable - jeans would be too tight. I looked in my closet, then tried on a red cotton sundress with thin shoulder straps. Cute. Not gonna work with a bra though - those spaghetti straps left too much of the bra showing. I took off the dress, removed my bra and put the sundress back on. I looked in the mirror. Looked kinda hot and naughty with my big breasts -- feature, not a bug, I decided. Make Cody realize what he was missing. The dress was short, ending at mid-thigh. I changed into matching lacy red panties.

Hell yeah. You've still got it, girl.

I heard a quick tap of the car horn outside. I took my time heading to the car, setting the alarm and locking the front door. Lucas was already in the back seat. I sat on his lap and swung my legs into the car. My short dress rode up pretty high, so I tugged it down as much as I could. My son was wearing stylish French Blue shorts and a black t-shirt. He's a tall kid, athletic and tanned and good looking, with light brown hair and green eyes. He looked quite a lot like his father did at the age, except Cody had a lighter complexion, with blond hair and piercing blue eyes.

Those college girls are gonna looove Lucus, I thought.

I could feel the back of my bare legs being tickled by the hair on my son's muscular bare legs. "Are you comfortable?" I asked Lucus.

"It's fine, mom. You don't weigh much."

"Are you gonna use flattery like that with all those college girls?"

"Damn straight," he said. "It's worked great so far. I -"

"Annnd... TMI."

I looked over the top of the painting at my husband's face. The painting was blocking the view between the two front seats, so we could only see each other from the neck up. "Do you have enough legroom to drive?" I asked him.

"Sure," he answered. "Are you gonna be comfortable, sitting like that for three hours?"

I wriggled around on my son's lap. "Yeah. It's a tight fit, but it'll do." I grabbed a pillow that had been wedged in the back of the car and leaned it against the right side door, then laid my head on it. "Kinda worn out. Think I'll try to nap."

Cody fired up the car, backed out of the driveway into the quiet residential street, and took off, the powerful engine quietly rumbling as he accelerated. He tapped the radio controls on the steering wheel until he got to Nirvana's "Come As You Are" playing on the local indie hipster college station.

I started to feel something a bit stiff pressing against my butt. I wriggled around to get comfortable, but that only made it harder.

Hunh. How big is that going to get? Does Lucus think I can't feel it between my cheeks? I opened my eyes to take a peek.

My dress had risen up while I wiggled, enough for my lacy red panties to peek out. I wondered if Lucus could see that. I thought about tugging my dress down to cover my panties, but realized I was getting a bit of a thrill from having my dress hiked up.

I'm so horny. Jesus, just a week without sex, and it's turning me into a bad mom. I really need to jill off when I get home. Fuck. I'm getting wet.

I opened my eyes wider and raised my eyebrows at Lucus.

He leaned forward and whispered in my ear, his sexy deep voice rumbling, "Sorry. Can't help it. Do you want dad to turn around and go home?"

Mmm, I thought. Feels so good.

"I guess it's OK," I whispered back, trying to keep my voice nonchalant despite my rising libido. "Teenaged boys - you can't help it. Do YOU want to go back?"

"No. It's innocent, yeah?"

"Mmm-hmm," I whispered, trying to keep from moaning. "Totally."

Fortunately my husband couldn't see how high my dress was, or how aroused I was getting, or he would have almost certainly made a screeching U-turn and headed home, protests from the back be damned.

I felt my son's hands on my panties, gently pushing me up. "I... uh... gotta get it free," he whispered. "Kinda hurting, being bent."

I raised my booty enough so he could adjust himself. His prick ended up nestled against the cleft of my cheeks and touching my lower back. "That's better," he murmured.

Damn, I thought. How big IS he? I closed my eyes. "Mmm," I murmured. "Sleepy."

His hands remained under my dress, very still, but continuing to hold my booty through the lacy fabric of the panties. As if I wasn't gonna notice.

I kept my eyes closed, giving him plausible deniability.

I must have drifted off. I woke up and felt Lucus oh so cautiously squeezing my big sexy buns. I wondered how long he'd been slyly feeling me up, but I didn't react, feigning I was still asleep. Feeling my pussy get slick and wet from the delicious touching.

His squeezing slowly got bolder. He eventually slowly slid his hands forward along the side of my buttocks and then thighs, his hot skin sending little electric jolts into my brain, until his hands rested mid-thigh on my bare skin. He gave an... affectionate?... squeeze, then slid his thumbs toward the inside of my thighs, then into the cleft of my legs.

I stirred a bit in my 'sleep', moving my head against the pillow pressed against the window, then shifted on Lucus' lap until my thighs were 'accidentally' parted more. I took a peek through barely slitted eyes at the rear view mirror up front. My husband's eyes glanced back occasionally, apparently checking traffic, but otherwise remained on the road. He appeared oblivious to the sensuous seduction behind him.

I closed my eyes again. Lucus took advantage of the opening of my thighs to slide his thumbs deeper into the valley of my legs, then slowly moved them up my thighs, barely touching my panties. He teased me, trailing his thumbs along the outside of my panties, not quite touching my pussy.

I was having a difficult time not moaning, and despite my best efforts to be still I felt my hips swaying a tiny bit side to side. Lucus reciprocated by bumping his hips forward a fraction, pushing his stiff cock deeper toward the cleft of my butt, the two layers of intervening fabric - my panties and his shorts - stretching and resisting his progress forward, 'protecting' me against my arousal and the rising need to feel his stiffness sliding deeper between my buns.

The hell with it, I thought. I kept my eyes closed in case my husband glanced back, still pretending to sleep, but I rested my hands on his.

I felt him freeze, now that I had removed the pretense that this was entirely innocent. I began rubbing the top of his hands, gently at first then more insistently, covertly taking revenge on my cheating husband. I grasped his hands and moved them oh so slowly upwards, guiding him, letting him know my needs. He didn't resist, instead gently pressing his lips into my hair in front of him, on the back of my head, giving me a quiet thrill from the intimacy of that touch.

I guided his hands up, under my dress, his hands gliding over my bare smooth skin. His thumbs bumped into, then over, the slight crease of skin where my full thighs met my almost flat belly. He let me tease him by slowly moving his hands up along my torso, journeying toward my full breasts. I stopped when his thumbs were trapped between my hard belly and the soft embrace of the underside of my large breasts. The curvy ripeness of a mature woman, not the flatness of a skinny teen girl whose breasts still defied gravity instead of being deliciously shaped by it.

I released his hands, to let him decide. I felt him relax, his body no longer tensed against me from indecision, accepting my offering of my body.

He paused, presumably to check he wasn't being watched in the rear view mirror, then kissed my earlobe and breathed hotly into my ear, with a low moan of passion.

His hands began to roam over my breasts, touching and squeezing and lifting their weight. I felt a jolt run through me as his fingers rubbed then twisted my nipples until they were hard. He was hard further below also, his hips humping into mine as I pushed back with my butt, my eyes still closed and my head resting against the pillow for the illusion of propriety when Cody glanced back.

Lucus' right hand continued to explore my nipples and breasts, but his left hand journeyed back down until his fingers touched the top of my panties, pausing. Waiting for consent.

I took his left hand and guided it inside my panties, onto the trimmed pubic hair. He left his hand there, still waiting for direction. I parted my thighs a little, stretching the fabric of my resisting panties, and guided him to my soaking wet pussy.

I heard him stifle a moan. His hand gingerly slid down my slippery pussy lips, and I reflexively arched forward against the delicious pressure of his hands. His hands stopped, one cupping my pubic mound below, one cupping my breast above, like he was either indecisive about doing more, or just inexperienced about how to pleasure a woman like this. I guided his thumb to my clitoris and showed him how to touch it.

Oh god it felt so good inside my body, my nerves thrumming, electrons charging around and stimulating an endorphine rush inside part of my head, flooding me with pleasure, while another part of my head struggled to accept what a naughty bad mom I was being.

My body jolted involuntarily when he slid a finger inside my wet pussy, shoving it deep inside. And, apparently being more skilled about this than he had let on, touched my G-spot.

I fought to maintain control over my facial expression as my hips humped and weaved and embraced the magic presents he was giving me with his touch.

His right hand slipped down my waist and then cupped my ass, gently nudging me up. I raised my buttocks off the seat an inch or so, consenting, and Lucus hooked a thumb on the right side of my panties and tried unsuccessfully to pull them down. I hooked the left side of my panties, and together we pulled them down to my knees. I pressed my thighs together, trapping his finger inside my pussy, and then gravity took over and my panties fell down to my ankles. I freed my feet from the lacy red silk, then parted my thighs wider. He took the hint - I was so wet he sunk a second finger inside me at once. I softly moaned.

I felt his hardness nestling deeper inside the cleft of my buns, his bare skin hot against mine.

What the --

I suddenly realized that when I had raised my hips to get my panties off, he had sneakily unzipped and pulled his shorts down, freeing his bare cock.

That was fucking smooth, I thought. This ain't his first rodeo in a back seat. I thought about whispering in his ear to slide his shorts back up.

But.

It felt so damn good...

Jesus. What's wrong with me?

My body answered, not a gotdamn thing, my butt muscles clenching against Lucus' stiffness, teasing him. I felt his cock twitch, and I heard his breath catch, a soft "huuh."

"Are you OK?" Cody asked me, looking at me in the rear view mirror. I realized I might not have controlled my expression during that internal debate. I froze for a moment, my mind racing. "I'm OK, just a bit stiff in this position." Which technically wasn't a lie, since the 'stiff' part referred to Lucus' hardon. I took the opportunity to twerk my butt under the guise of shifting to a new position, which pressed my son's hardness deeper between my cheeks. Lucus showed his appreciation for this gambit by starting to finger fuck me while his thumb bumped in time to the thrust against my clit.

My husband said, "How much farther 'til you wanna stop for a break? Waco?"

I glanced outside at the road signs, did some quick math despite the mental fuzziness caused by the... distraction... occurring inside my pussy. Waco was maybe ten minutes away. "I don't want to stop until we go a little further," I said, enjoying the deliberate double entendre. "Maybe stop in that Czech town, West? Eat some kolaches?"

"I'd like to go a little further, too," Lucus said, his rumbly voice conveying a hint of amusement at the phrasing, but subtle enough that my husband almost certainly missed it, given his lack of the context. If by 'context' you mean 'getting finger fucked'.

"Sure," Cody said. "I'm OK not stopping yet. Hey, Lucus?"

"Yeah?"

"How are you doing with your mom on your lap?"

"No worries, dad. She keeps moving around so it doesn't get uncomfortable."

My husband's eyes went back to the road ahead.

"Speaking of which, mom, could you raise up a bit to relieve the pressure?"

I did. And felt him slide his cock under me, while his fingers slipped out of my pussy and began guiding his manhood. He started rubbing his cockhead back and forth over my well lubricated pussy lips.

No, I thought. Not... that. Please don't.

My body ignored that debate from the sidelines, my bottom slowly moving in time to his cockhead's journey over my wetness. I bit my tongue to keep from moaning.

His cockhead slipped a fraction into my pussy lips. Just the tip. Not yet beyond the point of no return.

My legs were getting tired from hovering over his lap.

I need to do something here. Pull him out. Or...

Fuck it.

I pressed my hand against his, gently pushing down. Letting him know I wanted him to go deeper in me. He got the idea and pushed up with his hips, getting just the helmet inside.

I relaxed my legs and sat down, and he sunk all the way inside my well lubricated vagina.

"Fuuuck," Lucus whispered in my ear. "Soo good."

"Mmmm," I explained, clenching my vaginal walls and releasing. I felt his body jolt, as if he'd never had a girl give him that treat.

18-year-olds, I thought. The fuck do they know about pleasing men?

I looked over at my husband. It was a good thing the painting was blocking his view. I wasn't particularly enamored of dying in a fiery crash because he got distracted in traffic by seeing his son's cock buried deep in his mother's pussy.

My whole body was tingling from the sensation of getting penetrated again, after a week's drought. I began barely moving my hips up and down, so I could feel his shaft sliding against my slick internal walls, but without visibly riding him and thus alerting my husband.

My son started rubbing my lower back under my dress. He kneaded and rubbed up my spine, raising my dress as he did so. As my dress rose higher I could feel the cool air from the SUV's climate control making my nipples even harder. His hands were hot from the metabolic furnace of his athletic body burning through the calories, as it healed from his last workout. He rubbed all the way up to my neck while I slyly rode him in reverse cowgirl position.

"No," I whispered. "Feels good, but Cody could see you kneading my neck."

Lucus' started running his hands up and down my body, feeling my flat belly and all my curves. He gently kneaded my tits, then cupped them with his hands. He lovingly squeezed them, then began twisting my erect nipples.

My nipples are very sensitive. I nearly came, but fought down the urge, trying to tamp down the noise I was involuntarily making. We were going thru Waco now, and the heavy traffic all around us on the freeway was providing some cover for the noise.

Not enough, apparently. "Everything OK?" Cody asked me, his eyes flicking to the rear view then back at the rushing traffic. "You sound like you're getting uncomfortable on Lucus' lap. Do you want me to get off the freeway here so you can get out of the car, take a break?"

"No, I'm not ready to get off yet," I said, grinding harder on my son's lap.

I heard a muffled strangling sound behind me as my son restrained a laugh at my phrasing. Or perhaps restrained an incipient orgasm. "How about you, Lucus? Anything you need to get more comfortable? Anything you want me to do?"