Chapter 1
Brenda felt the tickle of her clit inside her panties.
She smashed her thighs together, focusing their eyes on the ribbon of highway ahead. The sun was behind her, so the glare didn't hit her in the eyes the way it would be in the afternoon. There was little traffic, and she didn't expect much on this particular highway.
She glanced over her shoulder at her son. He had sprawled out on the back seat, sleeping. He had slept when she stopped at that small cafe behind them for coffee.
The stop was the cause of her distended clit.
The young man who had served her coffee was the only one in the place, and had begun flirting with her immediately. Brenda was used to men flirting with her and she enjoyed it. Even her ex-husband had flirted with her last night, trying to get into her motel room with her.
Brenda wanted nothing to do with him, however, and spent a restless night in a strange town on a strange bed. She seldom rested well when away from home.
Tall and slender, with beautiful brunette hair that hung below her shoulders, Brenda was a girl who drew the attention of men. She had known this from an early age, and had encouraged their attentions. Still quite young when her tits developed, it wasn't long before Brenda was spreading out in the back seats of cars, fucking her dates with enthusiasm. She loved to fuck, and wasn't in the least ashamed of it. She had very strong sexual desires, powerful hungers, yet she was somewhat inexperienced.
That lack of experience came out of frustration, not because she didn't want to enjoy those delicious things her mind came up with. But as a girl, her dates didn't know anything except to get hard, stick their pricks in her pussy, and fuck away until they came. She came very, very easily. There had been times she simply pictured a cock in her mind and came. Usually, she came when the boy first penetrated her cunt with his cock, and always again when he came. Enjoying two orgasms most of the time was okay, but she was still left unsatisfied.
There had to be more to sex than just taking a hard cock into her cunt and fucking away, she knew. As much pleasure as that gave her, the wonderful filling, the friction, there had to be more to it.
She knew there was more to fucking because she had seen pictures and read the books.
Books and pictures were the cause of her divorce.
Her husband had found them, and immediately accused her of being some wicked sort of woman. Brenda didn't feel wicked at all. She saw nothing wrong in having the books and pictures, nothing wrong with men and women enjoying each other to the utmost. But her husband, strangely enough, had been somewhat of a puritan. Once she had suggested, shyly, that he use his mouth on her cunt, and for a moment she had thought he was going to knock her on her ass.
So, she was inexperienced, frustrated, and driving home with her son after picking him up at his father's.
She drove carefully, staying within the speed limit, but her mind was on the young man at the cafe. He had been good looking, and she had gone along with his flirting. But now she regretted it. Her cunt bubbled and boiled between her thighs. She felt she should be used to her cunt being so wet and hot all the time, but she wasn't. It troubled her because she didn't have a man, only her fingers.
She could have had men, though.
With her beautiful face, her green eyes and full, moist lips, she was extremely attractive to men. Her tits were high and firm, spaced widely with unusually long nipples that were often so sensitive she could hardly stand to feel anything against them. She had a small waist, with rounded hips that flowed into enticingly long thighs of such smooth texture, she had been told they felt like silk. Her ass was tight, compact, rounded in a mouth-watering way. Yes, she could have been fucking men.
But she was afraid of them. Afraid they would disappoint her as her husband had, as her dates those many years ago had. She wanted an adventurous man, a man who would do things
... like those in the pictures and books she had. Her imagination and fingers were better than any man she had ever had so far, and Brenda wasn't going to be frustrated anymore because of some unimaginative man.
She felt her clit harden more between her thighs.
She looked over her shoulder again at her sleeping son. Brad had turned onto his back, one leg flung against the back of the seat, the other drooped on the floor. Her eyes gazed at his young face, so innocent in sleep. She teased herself by letting her eyes move to the crotch of his jeans.
She gasped softly.
Brad had a hard-on.
His cock was elongated along the left side of his jeans, outlined by the tight denim. She felt a throb of her clit. Jerking her eyes back to the highway, she couldn't resist dropping her left hand to her lap. She pressed into her cunt, the pressure sending a ripple of hot pleasure along her inner thighs.
"Oh, God!" she whimpered softly.
She imagined her son asleep back there, only in her mind he had his cock out of his pants. It stood up so sweetly, so hard. She saw it clearly in her mind, saw the swollen cockhead so smooth, saw it throb. She fought to focus her eyes on the road ahead, slipping her hand down her thigh to the hem of her skirt. She inched her skirt up, teasing herself with the tip of one finger, swirling it along the smooth texture of her knee. The lurching sensation of her cunt caused her to writhe her ass against the seat.
She sneaked another peek over her shoulder.
Brad's cock looked so very hard inside his pants. She wondered what he could be dreaming about, if it was erotic, maybe of pushing his cock into some little girl's tight cunt, fucking her. She wondered if he often had those nice dreams, maybe squirted jism all over himself as he slept. The idea that her son could enjoy a wet dream excited her. She wished there were some way she could see it, watch him have such a dream, see his cock, that young, precious cock, spurting all over the place.
Brenda found her hand climbing up her thigh, shoving her skirt upward.
She had to struggle to watch the highway. The throbbing hard-on of her son in the back seat was a powerful attraction. The urge to pull over and stop and turn to look at his cock-bulge was strong. But she was afraid the stop would wake him, and then she wouldn't be able to see his cock. He would try to hide it, make it go soft
. . . and she didn't want his cock soft.
She adjusted the rear-view mirror until she could look into it and see Brad, see his cock. Carefully steering with her right hand, Brenda moved her left between her thighs. Opening them as wide as she could, she cupped her cunt. The crotch of her panties was wet by now, and she could feel the damp heat soaking through to her palm. She rubbed at her pussy, feeling the swollen cuntlips, the tip of her clit. Her pulse increased hotly, and she made soft gasping sounds of self-induced pleasure.
Unable to stand the heat of her cunt, Brenda worked a finger into the crotch of her panties. She stroked along the side of her rigid cht, agitating it slowly, working her finger downward to dip the tip into her slippery pussy. Her eyes went from the road to the mirror, her mind flaming with the image of her son's cock-bulge.
Her pussy was very wet, and her finger fucked easily inside.
The orgasms she produced were mild, but so delicious.
And that made her want more.
She threw caution away and spread her knees very wide, slumping in the seat to get at her cunt better. She pulled her skirt to her waist, and shoved her hand into the elastic waist. She fucked a finger into her cunt, making a wet sound. She stabbed herself in the cunt time and again, drawing her finger out to smash at her sensitive clit. She panted with heat, trying to watch the road and the mirror at the same time.
Her cunt began to contract about her finger, and the orgasm radiated a wild, consuming heat throughout her body. She fought to keep the car on the roady her eyes blurred with teary pleasure.
"What's wrong, Mom?"
Brenda let out a small yelp, jerking her hand out of her panties quickly, sitting upright and bringing her hand to the wheel.
"What's wrong, Mom?"
Brenda let out a small yelp, jerking her hand out of her panties quickly, sitting upright and bringing her hand to the wheel.
Brad was leaning over the seat, wide awake.
"Nothing, baby," she managed to say, her voice weak.
She had forgotten to shove her skirt down, and Brad was gazing at her long thighs, seeing the crotch of his mother's skimpy panties. Brenda didn't remember her skirt was up until her son began to climb over the seat, getting in front with her.
A blush came over her face as she smoothed her skirt down, trying to tug it to her knees. But when she had slumped in the seat, her skirt had pulled up in back. She was afraid to lift her ass to pull it down, afraid it would make it more obvious what she had been doing.
She glanced carefully at her son as he sat next to her now. He was looking straight ahead, so she ventured a peek at the front of his pants.
Brad still had a hard-on!
Half her thighs were exposed, and there wasn't much she could do about it unless she wanted to make it quite obvious she had been sitting there trying to drive the car and finger-fucking herself wildly. She didn't feel shy that her legs were revealed. She felt a strange excitement that her son could see them. He had seen her legs many times, of course, when she wore shorts. But a woman sitting with her skirt up was a more erotic picture, she knew. She caught Brad peeking at her from the corners of his eyes.
She knew he had seen her hand inside her panties. He couldn't have missed it. Besides, her finger was still wet, now on the steering wheel. Wondering what he was thinking, she felt the urge to ask.
"Brad, you . . . saw, didn't you?" she asked, her voice very low.
"Saw what, Mom?" he asked.
But she heard the catch in his voice. She breathed deeply, causing her tight tits to strain against her blouse.
And again she caught her son watching her.
"You saw what I was . . . doing," she said, unable to keep the quiver from her voice.
Brad nodded, a quick up-and-down jerk of his head.
Brenda was surprised at her feelings. She found she didn't care if her son had caught her with her finger up her cunt. The very idea of it sent shivers of perverse pleasure up and down her spine.
"Are you hungry?" she asked.
"Not very," he replied, his voice strange.
"Something to drink, maybe?" she asked. ' We can stop at a place up ahead if you want."
"It's okay, Mom," he said, rubbing his palms up and down his legs.
She watched him shift his body, noticing he wasn't making any attempt to try and hide his hard-on. His cock bulged up against his jeans, outlined there. Her cunt had a burning sensation in it, and her palm itched to grab his cock, to hold it, squeeze it, feel it. She wondered if Brad would be afraid, want to go back to his father if she grabbed for his cock.
She looked down at her thighs, noticing her skirt had come up a bit more. It seemed when she twitched her ass on the seat, it brought her skirt higher on her legs. It would soon be back in her lap, she saw.
"You're not ashamed of seeing what I was doing?" she asked. "I mean, ashamed of me?"
"No, Mom," he said, and she detected a soft moan in his voice.
Brenda couldn't stop herself.
"I'm sure you know about such things, baby," she went on nervously. "I know boys do that to themselves. Girls aren't any different, Brad. We have needs, too, you know."
Brad nodded. There was a flush on his young face, but Brenda didn't think it was a flush of shyness or embarrassment. Not with that cock so very hard in his pants.
"Do you do it?" she asked.
"I . . . well, Mom," he sighed, rubbing his palms along his legs again.
"Sure you do," she whispered. "All boys do it."
Brad looked at his mother openly now, and Brenda gazed directly into his eyes. Then he lowered his, letting them focus on her exposed thighs. She watched him fighting to keep a grin off his face.
"Oh, go ahead," she said, pretending to sigh. "Look all you want. I know you can't help it, darling. Besides, I should have pulled my skirt down."
She caught the grin that grew on his face, and felt delighted. Brad kept looking at her thighs, and Brenda kept glancing at his cock. Her cunt was pulsating with a wild wetness, her clit throbbing crazily. Her nipples had become long and hard and ever so sensitive. She was breathing fast and heavy, causing her tits to lift and fall, drawing her son's eyes to them.
Brenda lifted her shoulders, thrusting her tits out, flashing a grin at him. "You like them?" she asked in a throaty voice.
Brad nodded, making strangling sounds.
She pointed at his crotch. "What's that, honey?"
"Gosh, Mom, you know!" Brad said, panting as he stared at her straining tits, then her bare thighs again. "You know what it is."
"Tell me," she urged. "Tell me what it is, honey."
"You know!"
She reached down for his hand, lifting it and bringing it between them. She held his hand there, squeezing it, wishing it was his cock she was squeezing.
"I want you to tell me," she whispered. "I need you to tell me, baby."
"Aw, Mom ..."
"You have a hard-on, don't you?" she finally said.
Brad's body jerked, and he shot a glance at his mother's face. Brenda smiled at him, her eyes sparkling. He nodded, then began to stare at her legs again.
"Does seeing me this way make it hard, Brad?"
"Gosh, yes, Mom," he grunted.
"Does it feel good, being hard that way?"
Brad nodded, his eyes glowing.
"Would it make you very hard if you saw . . . this," she said, and she pulled her skirt to her lap. The crotch of her panties was exposed, with the shadow of her triangular cunt hair beneath the thin nylon.
"Ohhhh, Mom!" Brad gurgled, his face lighting up with pleasure.
The car weaved a bit, and she focused her attention on the road. She could feel her son's eyes on her thighs, the crotch of her panties. She could feel the excited heat of his stare, burning through her panties. She felt his hand turn in hers, and then he was squeezing her fingers hard."
"Do you like seeing me this way, honey?" she asked, her voice hoarse with emotion.
"Gosh, Mom!" he.said. "You're . . . you're beautiful!"
"Not really," she laughed, half nervously. "You're just seeing something you want to touch, that's all. Any girl is beautiful when she lets you see her like this."
"No, Mom. Even Dad says you're beautiful."
"That's nice," Brenda replied. "I like being beautiful for you, though."
She was very pleased with her son's reaction. She had no idea what she was going to do, but it felt good to sit there, her panties showing, his cock very hard, talking this way. If she had ever done anything remotely like driving with her skirt up, her ex-husband would have made her feel ashamed. But her son didn't. He liked it. He loved to look at her with her dress up, the nylon crotch of her panties exposed, his cock so deliciously hard in his pants. She wondered if there was some way she could convince him to take his cock out.
"Does it hurt, Brad?"
"What hurt, Mom?"
"Your . . . hard-on?"
"Golly, no!" Brad giggled. "It feels good."
She wanted to say how badly she would like to feel his prick, to see if it felt good, but she held back. Brad was a very horny young boy, and she didn't want to make him ashamed or frighten him.
She saw a cafe ahead of them. "You're going to eat breakfast."
"But I'm not hungry, Mom."
"It's almost ten o'clock," she reminded him. "You'll be very hungry before we stop for lunch. Now, be a good boy and eat a big breakfast, okay?"
"Okay," he said.
She pulled off the highway and parked on the gravel lot in front of the cafe. It wasn't much, just a small building with two gas pumps out front, a typical country cafe.
"We've got to do something about that," she said in a soft voice. "You can't go in with that thing sticking out, Brad."
"What am I gonna do with it, Mom?"
She pulled her skirt down. "It might go soft now," she said, and she slipped from the car. "When it does, come on in. I'll order breakfast for you."
She felt her son's eyes on her swaying ass as she entered the screened door of the cafe, and she turned to grin at him over her shoulder.