2. My son’s cock was hard and placed directly under my vagina.
My son, who was rather nerdy in high school, like his father, winning a full ride scholarship to over a dozen colleges, had really blossomed physically by working construction all summer. Gone were his scrawny arms, replaced with impressive muscles. I had complimented him frequently on his summer reformation. My boy had become a man.
Yet now, as we drove on a bumpy section of road that was under construction, I realized my boy had indeed turned into a man as I could feel his definitely erect cock directly under me.
With each bump his hardness rubbed my pussy which, even though I tried to control myself, got me wet. I considered moving, but was worried I would embarrass him if I acted like I could feel his erection. So, instead I tried to control the bouncing by putting my hands on the top of the seat in front of me.
Yet for about ten minutes, which felt like an eternity, my son’s hard-on, thankfully trapped in his shorts, rubbed against my very wet pussy.
Finally, the road smoothed and now his hard cock just rested directly underneath my pussy. I knew I should move, yet I still seemed frozen in place. Partly, because I was worried I would embarrass him if I moved and partly, undeniably, it felt good in the position I was in.
For twenty minutes my pussy rested on his cock, which never shrunk, while talking to my husband as much as I could to distract me from the awkward situation I was in.
Finally, I saw an upcoming rest stop and suggested we stop.
Just as Alex slowed down, I felt the firm flinching of his penis. It flinched three times, each time lifting up ever so slightly into my pussy lips.
I accidentally moaned.
Alex asked, “You okay?”
“I just need to stretch,” I answered, my face burning red at the reality that I was getting horny from sitting on my son.
“I could grab a drink,” my husband nodded, as he pulled into the car stop.
“Me too,” I agreed, suddenly feeling a bit dehydrated.
Once he rolled to a stop, I joked to Cory, “I imagine you are dying for a break, too.”
“No, I was enjoying the ride,” my son answered, yet his tone didn’t imply any sort of sexual innuendo that could have accompanied those words.
My already flushed face went a shade redder as I opened the door and got out. I’m not sure if my face could go redder, but as my son got out and stood up two things were apparent:
1. His erection poking out if his Adidas shorts.
2. A wet spot that was undoubtedly from me.
I turned away and headed to the washroom mortified that my pussy juice was on my son’s shorts. Once inside, I pulled my panties down and couldn’t believe how wet they actually were.
Now I should note I got wet easily and was quite a flooder when I got off. I also had a ferocious sexual appetite that my husband could seldom feed completely… thus I had a variety of sex toys to finish the job he often couldn’t complete. I had a we-vibe, a couple vibrators, anal beads, a butterfly toy that I could wear while out, which was in my purse, and my newest purchase acquisition, a massage vibe… which was literally orgasmic.
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