The Story of Backseat sitting with Mom part 1

Among their many totally not boring hobbies, my mom and dad like to go antiquing. Being 19, home for the summer and with no girlfriend, it was my unfortunate lot in life to go with them.

After endless hours going from dinky shop to dinkier shop, my parents finally admitted it was time to head home. The only problem was that their last purchase, an old bookcase, would only fit into our packed minivan with the front passenger seat all the way down, rendering the seat useless for its intended purpose.

"Hmm, I suppose we could come back and pick it up tomorrow..." said dad.

"Well, maybe I could sit in Tom's lap in the backseat?" said mom, flashing me a little grin.

I should explain at this point that my relationship with my mother has been...strange, of late. For my whole life she had simply been "mom" and our relationship was much the same as I suppose it is between any mother and son.

Without intending to, I changed that considerably a few days ago. Not quite re-domesticated, I had wandered out of the bathroom after a shower, naked but for the towel I was using to dry my hair. I hadn't made it halfway to my room when I heard a gasp and was mortified to discover that mom was coming up the stairs down the hall, directly in front of me. For a hot second I was frozen in shock before awkwardly scurrying to my room while covering myself as best I could. My belated attempt at modesty was somewhat pointless; my mom had, without question, gotten a good, short look at my good, long dick.

I don't say I have a big dick just to brag about it (though I don't mind bragging about it). I say it because, as best I can tell, it's what caused the change in my relationship with mom. In the days since she saw it, she'd become incessantly flirty with me. At first in a somewhat casual (albeit awkward) way, but as time went on it became flagrant. Ridiculously so. She was making suggestive comments that bordered on lewd, was wearing the most revealing outfits I'd ever seen her in, and finding every excuse possible to be near me or touch me.

And, I'm ashamed to say, it was working on me. Three days ago I had never, not even for a moment, looked at my mom in a sexual way. But now that she was practically throwing herself at me, I'd have to be blind not to see how fabulously fucking hot she was. Smooth, creamy skin; plump, full tits; a soft, round ass that men would go to war over.

And here she was offering to perch that perfect ass on my crotch for the hour-long drive home.

"Umm...Maybe we should just come back for it tomorrow?" I pleaded hopefully.

Mom was playing with the hem of the flowery yellow summer dress she was wearing. As uncomfortable as it was to admit, she looked so sexy in it that I'd been sporting a half-chub all day. It had been a full-chub about an hour ago when she'd bent at the waist in one of the shops earlier, "accidentally" revealing to an audience of me that she wasn't wearing any underwear. It changes you to see your own mom's pussy lips peeking out between her thighs, crowned by the globes of her amazing ass cheeks. I still wasn't sure I liked the change, but I knew if I had her in my lap it would be an irrevocable one.

"No, your mom's right I think, you'll have to share the backseat," said dad, opening the sliding door of the van and peering in, "It'll be tight, but hopefully you guys don't mind a good squeeze."

"I don't mind at all," said mom, looking straight at me as she "adjusted" her big tits with both hands behind dad's back. My cock swelled at the sight of her ample cleavage juggling around in that dress.

I was desperate to avoid having mom sit in my lap, where I'd be very much at the mercy of her grinding ass. Seeing each other naked (by accident or by design) was one thing, having her sitting on my inevitably hard cock for an hour was another.

I had just one idea to prevent that, and it was a pretty stupid one.

"Ok, but, why don't I sit in mom's lap instead?" I asked.

I was bigger than mom and it made no sense whatsoever, but I was insistent and soon I was carefully setting myself down in mom's lap. It was weird as hell, but the alternative seemed much, much worse.

Dad got into the driver's seat directly in front of us. Mom shocked me by calmly wrapping her arms around me, letting her hands settle on my lap, her fingers wrapping gingerly around my partially inflated dick. Fuck.

"You guys won't be able to buckle up, so make sure to hold on to something, ok?" said Dad.

Mom gave my bulge a squeeze, immediately sending even more blood flowing to it. My cock was growing in her hand. Up to now, there was at least a slim chance her sexual flirting had all been in my head. But when your mom is flagrantly grabbing your cock, you can be sure she means business.

We started driving. Once we hit the highway, I took advantage of the noise to whisper to my mother, whose hands were still grasping my dick over my jeans and periodically squeezing it.

"What are you doing?" I asked her, too quiet for dad to hear.

"You know what I'm doing," she whispered back, adding a little rub to her squeezes.

"Yes but why are you doing it?" I asked, working very hard to keep my voice low so dad wouldn't hear us.

"Do you want me to stop?" she asked.

The answer was yes, I wanted the craziness of the last few days to end. I had every intention of telling her just that, but her rubbing on my pantsed dick was starting to feel really, really good.

"Nnn..." was as close to "No" as I could muster. Mom let out a victorious, satisfied sigh and set herself to giving me an over-the-pants handjob.

That didn't satisfy her for long, though. Moments later, her fingers found my fly and began working it down. The zipping noise was painfully obvious, catching dad's attention.

"What are you doing back there?" he asked, more curious than accusing.

"Just uh...," I stammered, mom's hand diving into my pants, "playing with the zipper on my hoodie."

I prayed he wouldn't remember that I wasn't wearing a hoodie.

"Well you guys should find a way to pass the time, still got a long road ahead of us," said dad.

"We'll find something to do," said mom. She nibbled my ear seductively from behind as she pulled my fully-hard cock from my pants.

"Wow, take a look at that hot rod!" said Dad.

My blood turned to ice.

"W-what?" I mumbled.

"Right in front of us," said Dad, gesturing to a classic car we were behind, "I think it's an old Ford. Boy, I'd like to get my hands on one of those!"

"I've been thinking the same thing for days now," said mom, both hands expertly tugging on my meat.

"I've wanted a hot rod like that for the longest time," said dad.

"So long...so hard," said mom, slowing her hands down and exploring the length of my cock with her fingers.

"It has been kinda hard I guess," said dad.

"And thick," said mom, squeezing my shaft. Her hands felt so, so good.

"What's that? Thick?" dad asked.

"Nothing, dear," said mom, licking my earlobe.

Dad went on talking, but I couldn't hear him over the sight of mom's delicate hands milking my hard-on from tip to base. At that moment, it didn't matter to me whose hands they were, I wouldn't have stopped them stroking for the world.

Those first five minutes, mom's handjob was exploratory. It felt amazing, like a good massage, but thankfully I was pretty sure I could hold out without cumming. Not a goal I've ever had before, but despite how good it felt I still didn't want my mom giving me an orgasm. I figured I could let her play with it awhile, get it out of her system, then regroup at home and figure out a way past all this incest nonsense.

Mom, however, had other plans. Seizing my cock in her right hand, she started jerking me in earnest, pumping my cock for all she was worth. Her left hand delved back into my pants, grabbing my balls and kneading them with her fingertips. Fuck fuck, I couldn't hold on with her working me that well.

"Slow down..." I said breathily, already feeling my balls beginning to tighten.

"I'm going the speed-limit," replied dad, certainly not who I'd been talking to, "but you're right, safety first."

As the car slowed down, elongating our trip even more, it became hopeless for me to resist shooting my load. Might as well try to enjoy it, I thought.

I grabbed mom's hand, readjusting it to a slightly more pleasurable position before letting her resume beating me off.

"So, Tom, think you'll come with us next time?" dad asked.

"I'll, uh...definitely think about it," I answered, mom's fingertips teasing the swollen head of my cock.

"Well I know you don't come with us because you love antiques, but I do hope you'll come with to spend time with me and your mother," said dad.

"Yes Tom," said mom, "Cum for mommy."

Dad laughed.

"Better do what she says, Tom!" said dad.

With her expert hands, I didn't have much of a choice. My body stiffened and one of the most intense orgasms of my life shot out of me. Cum flew out in all directions, thick ropes landing on the door, the floor, the back of dad's seat, hell I'm pretty sure some hit the damn ceiling. I did my best to stay silent but couldn't avoid letting out a moan of pleasure. Dad's interest was again piqued.

"Everything ok back there?" he asked.

"Yes," said mom, "Tom just needed to relieve some pressure."

"I'll bet, you two crammed in that seat can't be too comfortable," said dad, "feeling alright, son?"

"Feeling...great...dad..." I said, trying to catch my breath.

Mom had a good deal of my cum on her hands, which she brought to her mouth. I couldn't see, but I could hear her licking then clean.