The black, four-door '70 Bonneville cruised along route 49 headed north out of Charlotte, NC. at a modest 45-50mph. The twosome, Irene, 43yr-old mother, and Dale, 20yr-old son, had decided to drive through the night, figuring to make Norfolk, VA., and home, by 3am. The modest speed allowed Dale, driving, to study his mother's legs by the light of the full moon, dividing his attention with quick glances back to the road. Irene was sleeping soundly unaware her skirt had climb up considerably revealing a good portion of her upper thighs. Her legs were smooth, supple and shapely. Was Dale not a male!
Also, another distraction, to his normally excellent attention to the road was his controlling the car with only his right hand, while his left squeezed his firm erection through his jeans. He eased across the white line often and jerked the wheel left occasionally to keep the late model Bonneville from dropping off the shoulder.
Having been visiting family in Greenville, SC., they had made a hasty departure to keep Dale from an ass whipping or worse. His cousin, Micky, had told her husband during an argument, in a fit of rage, that she had fucked Dale. They had gotten a call warning them, in the nick of time, to leave town. The hurried departure had left Micky's mother, Lois, standing on the front porch, shaking her head at the insane, incestuous indiscretion between her daughter and favorite nephew. For over an hour on I-85 Irene had given Dale a tongue-lashing for his inability to keep "it" in his pants.
"Does incest not bother you?" She had shouted.
"Pussy is pussy!" He had brazenly and calmly replied.
Shocked to silence, she had said little more. They stopped in Charlotte to eat a late supper. When asked if she minded traveling 5 or more hour to make it home, she had said, "no problem".
Now, it is unknown if Dale's present indiscretion or the left jerk of the wheel caused Irene to awaken fully.
"What the hell do you think you're doing!" Irene snapped, now aware his hand rubbing and squeezing high on the inside of her left thigh was not a dream.
"Those shapely legs got the best of me, I guess!" He said, offering no apology. "It's dark and unpopulated out here. I got lonely."
"You mean horny, don't you? And, if I remember correctly, if pussy is pussy, a leg, must be just a leg! How long have you been playing with my leg and squeezing your dick?"
"Not very long." He said with a smile.
"I suppose we're lucky I woke up or you might have soiled you pants – or killed us!" Irene chided. "Did you touch me?"
"Hey, I'm brazen but I'm not crazy! The way you hate men! Touching that treasure. No way!"
"But you would like to?" Irene quizzed, seeing a questioning look appear on her son's face.
The speed had slowed to 40mph and his head swiveled continuously between her and the road.
"You screwed Micky without a second thought, I'd wager. So, be honest. If I wanted you to, you wouldn't hesitate, would you?"
"Hell no!! Not for a moment." Dale asserted.
Irene scooted over the leather bench seat, lifting her bare foot over the floor hump, effectively widening her legs.
"I want you to touch me and tell me what you feel." She directed, then, gripped and released his wrist as he reached. "Wait for a straight stretch, for god sake!"
Dale stopped his hand on the inside of her thigh where It had laid before. A long minute passed, perhaps a quarter mile, filled with lustful anticipation. When the headlights lit a long down drop into a hollow, no lights on the opposing top, he eased his hand towards her treasure, lightly fingering it, finding what he hoped or expected.
"Your panties are... your pussy is wet!"
"You're right about it feeling lonely on this old country road. I've spend a lot of time in the woods. I've told you about being a cook in the lumber camps. My first job. A full moon makes it spooky as hell – the shadows and all – but all this sexual talk has, as you've discovered – you can move your hand now – go on – has made me wet and I'm upset now. If you can find a place to hide this car, I could finger myself and you could jerk off."
Dale slowed the car further looking for anything that might be a turnoff entering the woods. Within 3 miles, he slowed to a stop, then, backed up. He saw that the grown-up, two track trail ran into the woods perhaps 30-40 feet then curved to the right. He pulled the Bonneville sharply to the left crossing the road, then, quickly put it in reverse. He backed into the trail slowly, made the curve and continued until he was sure the car would not be seen. He shut the lights and the engine off, locking the doors.
They sat silent for almost a minute looking around and letting their eyes adjust to the available moonlight.
"This should do just fine." Irene observed. "Should we move to the back seat so you will have a little bit more room."
"Sure."
Irene waited for her son to move. He climbed easily into the backseat and waited. Irene turned and put her knees on the front seat, lifting her straight lined skirt up to her hips she threw her right leg over the seat. Her white panties stood out in the darkness. She felt no lost of modesty as to showing her panties or her son's hand on her ass assisting her over the seat. She plumped down mostly in his lap.
"Maybe we could talk about the first thing that pops up." He teased.
"It has already popped up, smart ass!"
Irene repositioned herself to his right and promptly lifted her legs to remove her underwear. She now set with her bare ass on the leather seat, her left leg propped on to the hump on the floor. With the illumination of the full moon, her bush was clearly obvious. Dale reached to take the underwear from her, saying, "May I", and promptly put them to his nose, inhaling deeply.
"AAgggggg! You are really a pervert." She teased. "You don't go through my underwear drawer at home, do you?"
"All the time. My favorite are the ones that have the days of the week written on them."
She stared hard at him for a few long moments.
"So, I suppose, if you look at my underwear, and don't shy at sniffing them in front of me, you have been wishing for a moment like this for a long time - to show me your dick? You going to take it out, or what? I'm showing you mine – fair is fair."
Dale reached to unbuckle his belt, popping the snap and unzipping his jeans. With some difficulty, he removed them along with his briefs. He then sat there with his 6 1/2 inches standing erect.
"It makes me wonder! You must be feeling pretty cocky right now – pardon the pun – having your cousin give you some pussy, me, your mother, sitting here in front of you with her panties off, letting you see her pussy. You're proud of that dick, showing it off to me without batting an eye, hoping I will lose control and climb right on it. But it doesn't matter what you have between your legs if you don't know how to use it. Shall we begin."
Irene settled comfortably with her back leaning into the corner of the seat and put her right hand to her pussy. Dale, staring between his mother's legs, took hold of his shaft and began to fondled it and stroke it slowly.
"How did you and Micky end up screwing, anyway?" Irene queried.
"She said she would set me up with Joe Moon. Supposedly, Joe told her she would give me some pussy."
"Isn't Joe Moon married?"
"Yes. He was supposed to be out of town. It never happened and I told Micky she owed me some pussy and that she was going to have to put out if Joe fell through. A week went by and Micky and I went to the fair- last Friday - remember. I pulled into some bushes that I used for necking with Joe and told her it was time. I was teasing of course - well, kind of! But I played hard case - feeling her up - and she spread her legs. I got my cock wet!"
"Was her pussy good enough to get yourself shot over?"
"You bet your sweet ass!"
"My ass is sweet." Irene moaned pleasurably.
"This is fuckin hot!" Dale exclaimed lustfully.
The talking ceased. The moans of mother and son mingled as they masturbated. Mother, stared at her son's action, as son, stared at his mother's action. Irene was soon fingering her pussy causing Dale to pound his meat harder. Dale chanced to lay his hand on her left knee. She allowed it to remain there.
"How many men have you fucked, mom?" Dale asked lustfully.
"You're awful inquisitive!" Irene replied, with labored breath, then, after a few moments. "I had to count. Eight, if I remember correctly. How many girls have you fucked?"
"Just three. Gail and Alice. Add Micky." He groaned. "But if you're agreeable, you can make it four!"
He had noted her change in word from "screw" to "fuck". His exclamation was followed by his quick movement to top his mother, struggling to maneuver between her legs and lift them.
"Damn you boy! I am not a number!" She chastised, but still took hold of him and placed his cock to her. "Oh, god damn! AAhhh fuck!"
Irene instantly began to fuck her son aggressively. Dale was stabbing her deep with a quick paced rhythm. The car was filled with their individual grunts, groans and moans. Their positioning was not ideal but they were coupled and lost in incestuous lust. Both, were keenly aware of who they were fucking and it only added to their passion.
Irene, probably because it had been so long since she had fucked, was the first to orgasm, her lustful sounds. sounding like a wounded animal. There was immediate concern in her voice and words.
