This is a work of fiction. All characters are over the age of 18.
Hiya! This story is
my
version of the popular erotic trope, "
Mom sitting on son's lap, while Dad drives
."
But
, since I
do not
write incest within the nuclear family, for personal reasons, this one is "a mature woman on a young man's lap" story. So fair warning, this story features a cheating wife. Please, alt-back arrow if that upsets you.
And I've set it in a fantasy world, just for the novelty of it. But I have decided against the standard Dark Ages sort of clothing and its layers. Which you'd expect in a medieval story, but I used something a little more ancient Greek in appearance. It shouldn't be hard to figure out why.
A Bumpy Ride
Deanna tossed the last bit of their luggage into the back of the hay wagon, as the sun crested the horizon. They had been packing all night. The massive cart was more of a boat on wheels with its flared sides. It held most of the personal effects of three households. Two big oxen stood in the yoke before it.
She saw Alia come around the covered wagon that led the hay cart. The blonde half-elven woman carried a flat-bottomed water jug. She smiled as she walked past Tomas who stood at the head of the black ox. She filled the water jug that sat in the driver's box on the front of the cart. Alia was an exquisite creature, and it was no secret that she held the favor of Tomas
and
his twin brother Getty. She'd always figured she'd be attending a wedding, sooner rather than later. Now such a happy thing was doubtful.
Alia then offered the jug to Tomas, who took the jug and drank deeply. Behind her, Tomas' brother Getty hopped from the back of the covered wagon. "It's all lashed down tight. A tornado couldn't move that stuff," he said with a broad smile. The brothers were tall and handsome, with dark hair and eyes.
Deanna smiled. The twin boys were the sons of their former neighbors, not three years gone. Victims of the pox. They were strapping lads and the village's most successful hunters. But for a small strawberry birthmark on Getty's chin, they were identical.
Her husband of twenty years, Dade, straightened his tunic as he stepped from what had been their home. He closed the door reverently. "Are we ready to go?" Dade asked, looking anxious. "We're the last to leave."
Deanna smiled at her husband. "I know hun, but there's just so much of our life here in Buxton, it's hard to say goodbye."
Dade nodded and pointed east. "Yes, but a thousand horrible things are two weeks away and headed towards us. When a war of wizard kings is on the way, the wise, get from the path of annihilation."
He looked back at the charming little home. "Maybe Buxton will be spared. Who knows. When the fighting is done, maybe another family will move in and fill it with life and laughter again."
She sighed. Dade was known for being overly dramatic, but she was certain he wasn't being so in this instance.
Dade stretched. "Okay, I'll take the first day driving the covered wagon. Who's riding, where?"
Tomas smiled at his brother. "Since Getty did the tying down in the wagon, let him ride first, so if it breaks loose on the west road, let it all fall and kill
him
." He pointed over his shoulder with his thumb. "I'll drive the hay cart for the first half of the day, but I'll need some rest afterward. It's been a long night."
Alia laughed. The beautiful young woman was the daughter of a dear friend and sadly, in the summer of her twenty-eighth year, already a widow. Her husband had been killed nearly two years ago by a giant boar while out gathering in the forest. It was Getty and Tomas who led the hunting party that finally brought the great beast to bay, sustaining injuries themselves.
Alia picked up her crossbow and tucked it under her arm. "I'll ride with Dade, and keep an eye out for ambush," she said resolutely.
Dade nodded. He paused and met each of their faces. "I don't think DeMorduk's forces are nearby yet, but the west road has its own dangers, and it's three days to Falkenburg if the road is in decent shape." He slapped the wagon, "If you're riding in the back, get what rest you can. We'll rotate when we stop at midday. Everyone else, keep your eyes peeled. If you see anything, sing out and draw steel."
Tomas hefted his recurved bow and Getty loosened his sword in its sheath, as a reflex.
Dade and the rest of them turned and took a last look at their now-empty village. Just thirty hours ago it was full of busy people and happy children. A thriving farming village of fifty-four residents. Now they had all gone their separate ways. This last group was off to Falkenburg to pick up the boys' aunt and uncle, and then head west towards the Great Sea, and a fresh start.
Deanna couldn't help but be thrilled with the coming adventure, though sad to leave Buxton. At forty-two years old, she'd never imagined that such a journey remained before her. She stepped to the back of the covered wagon, as Dade woke up his team of plow horses. Their tack jingled brightly.
The front of the wagon held her great dining room table and hutch. The grand pieces were part of her dowry and handed down from mother to daughter for six generations. Sadly, there would be no daughter to receive them when Deanna passed, never having had children of her own. Still, she was a great friend to the entire village and every child who could talk, affectionately called her Auntie.
"May I give you a boost up, Auntie?" Getty asked, stepping from behind her.
She gave him a dry look. "I'm not some ancient crone in need of help, young man. I can still get my ass in the back of a wagon without help."
Despite her tone, she smiled at him. She grabbed the iron handle, stepped onto the frame, and hoisted herself up over the open tailgate. She looked back at Getty, with a smug expression, to find him admiring her generous posterior. The pale blue, chiton gown she wore was light and suited the weather. It was sleeveless, plunged in the front, and was worn at knee length.
She was about to comment when the wagon lurched as the horses leaned into the load. Getty hung his sword belt on a small hook on the last bow that stretched the canvas cover. Then he planted his hands on the tailgate and hopped up to end up sitting facing his brother on the hay cart.
He smiled at Tomas and brushed his hands together with a flourish. "And we're off!" he said excitedly.
Tomas smiled. "Just remember our agreement." Getty grinned back at him.
***
Deanna awoke a few hours later. The heat of the day would be upon them soon. In the room remaining in the cart, they were able to lay down a goose-feathered mattress. With the tailgate folded down an adult was able to lay comfortably. Food stores and water barrels were mounted to the outer sides of the wagon, freeing space inside.
It always amazed her when she was able to sleep in the back of a moving, bouncing, jingling wagon when they did their occasional traveling. But, when you're tired enough, she knew, you can sleep through almost anything.
She opened her eyes to see Getty's staring back at her. The look on his face spoke volumes on what he was thinking, and Deanna was wise enough to recognize it.
"Who are you, to look at me so?" she whispered. "Save those longing looks for your lovely half-elf." Deanna nodded toward the front of the wagon.
"I am the man whose window has faced your bathing tub for four years. And well you know it, Auntie."
She sniffed and waved her hand dismissively. "I was not in control of where my husband drilled the well, nor how often you found cause to be at an upper window that could see over our fence." Her eyes narrowed. "So... which of you boys has been putting a smile on Alia's face. It is good to see it finally after losing her husband. It is time she moved on."
Getty's eyes held hers. "An elf woman's lusts are not so easily sated. Even one with only half-elven blood." He let the thought hang.
She covered her mouth, lest her smile seem inappropriate. "You mean... you both?"
The handsome young man just smiled knowingly.
"Oh, my word," Deanna whispered but she couldn't help imagining those two men and Alia, grappled together in the dark. A tingle between her legs made her squirm.