"He's published a new one. Have you read it?"
I was going to, but I'd been busy. It was on my list of things to do.
"Not yet."
"I wouldn't bother, it's not as good as his other ones. In fact, it's poor."
That was a surprise, because he was our favourite author on Literotica.com, then I realized that she must be joking. But when I saw her face I knew that she wasn't. I was now curious.
"What's wrong with it?"
"It's not realistic. You can't have sex in the back of a car without the driver noticing. You'd hear them, and there might also be a smell of sex in the confined space. It's ludicrous to think that you can."
"I'm going to read it, and we'll see if I agree with you."
It was called, 'MIL Sits on My Lap in the Car'. It took me twenty five minutes to read it, and as soon as I'd finished she was asking for my opinion of it. I was going to give it to her, but she wouldn't like what I was going to say.
"It was good. A clever story that was well-written, with some steamy sex. What more did you want from the story?"
After giving a deep sigh, she said, "Some realism. They're bonking like crazy, and yet, the driver is oblivious to what's happening. That's why I only gave it three stars."
That was mean of her. From me, it was a five.
Two weeks later he published chapter two. It was more of the same, but it was still enjoyable, and it got a good rating. But that wasn't Millie's opinion of it. She was scathing, and, for some reason that I couldn't understand, she was also angry. It was only a story.
"It was crap. I gave it just one star. If I could, I would have given it no stars, or even minus one."
That wasn't just mean, it was vindictive. She might not like the story, but he'd still put a lot of time and effort into it. It deserved more than that. I've written a few stories, with not much success, so I knew how disheartening it was to get a low score or a bad review. For me, that was the end of it, but later, when we were in bed together, she started talking about it again.
"Have you seen the reviews for it? There are lots of them."
I shook my head. I hadn't, and I didn't want to.
"Awesome! Can't wait for chapter three. And there's more like that. A lot more. Are those people stupid?"
They weren't, they just had a different opinion of the story. She didn't like it, but others did. Now she should drop it. It was time to move on, but disappointingly, she didn't want to.
"I'm going to add a comment, and I'm not going to hold back."
When she'd written it, she showed it to me. She wasn't a nasty person, but what she was about to post, was nasty. And what I didn't like as well was that she was doing it anonymously.
"Can't you tone it down, just a little bit?"
"No."
"OK, but posting a comment like that anonymously is cowardly. You should do it using your own profile, so that if he wants to, he can respond."
"Yes it is cowardly, but I'm still going to send it anonymously."
So we did agree on something.
It was three weeks before he published another story. This time it wasn't about a car ride, and this time Millie liked it.
"He's back to his best. Hot sex between siblings. I loved it."
I did as well, but not as much as she did.
So finally, the car ride had been put to bed. No longer a topic of conversation. That's what we'd thought, but we were wrong. Two months later we were discussing it again.
My Mother was moving house and we were helping her. Most of her things were been taken care of by a removal company, at great expense, but we were moving her, and her personal things, in our car. And it would be a long journey, at least five hours.
We were moving her Saturday morning, but we got to her place Friday evening. As soon as we arrived she showed me what we would be taking to her new place.
"What do you think, will all of it fit into the car?"
Mother sounded concerned. I cast an eye over it. There was more stuff than I would have liked, and it would be a tight squeeze, but we'd be able to take all of it.
"Yes, it's not a problem."
"I've been so worried. I thought that there might be too much."
"Don't worry, by hook or by crook, I'll get it all in."
But Millie didn't share my confidence, and later, when we were in bed together, she expressed her concern.
"It looks too much to me."
"It's not, but Mother might need to sit on my lap."
Her face was a picture, until she realized that I was only joking. Then it changed, and I was now worried. I'd seen that look before, she was plotting something, and I knew that I wouldn't like it. She then explained it to me, and I was right. I didn't like it.
"No way!"
"It's just a little experiment."
That made me laugh. What she was asking me to do was ridiculous. She was playing it down, as if it was a trivial matter, but it wasn't.
She'd reminded me about that story, 'MIL Sits on My Lap in the Car'. She wanted me to pack the car so that my Mother would have to sit on my lap. We'd drive for a while like that, and it would then prove how ridiculous that story was.
"You can make a noise, and I'll bet that I'll be able to hear it."
Then she said more, and it made me feel uncomfortable.
"I know that your Mother isn't very heavy, but her sitting on you will give you a hard-on. When she feels it, she isn't going to let you fuck her, she's going to ask me to change places with you. That will prove how unrealistic the story is."
It might play out as she'd described it, but there was no way that I was going to go through with it.
After giving a deep sigh, I said, "OK you win. Everything that you think will happen, will happen. So there's no point in doing it."
But there was, because she'd whispered in my ear, and I'd liked what I'd heard. In return for doing it, so that she could prove how silly the story was, she was going to suck my cock. That wasn't unusual, but letting me come in her mouth, was. She was determined to get her own way, so I might be able to get even more from her. And if I did, it would be a first from her.
"I'll do it, but you need to swallow."
That got a quick no from her, but I held my ground.
"Then it's a no from me as well."
After some muttering under her breath, that I chose to ignore, because it was about me and it wasn't complimentary, through gritted teeth, she said, "OK, but if it makes me sick then you'll have to clean it up."
"It's a deal."
I even offered my hand so that we could shake on it, but she refused.
She was good at giving head, and this was one of her best. She never rushes, she always takes her time, making it last as long as possible. For some reason, having my Mother sit on my lap was important to her, because she was pulling out all the stops. Making sure to please me so that I didn't change my mind.
After edging me a couple of times, I was ready to come. I needed to warn her.
"I'm nearly there."
This would be when I'd take it out, and then spurt over her tits, or even over her face. But not today.
As it gushed out of me, I watched her gulp it down. Her eyes were closed and the expression on her face told me that she wasn't enjoying it. But I was.
"The taste was..."
I interrupted her with, "Delicious."
"No, disgusting!"
I was a gentleman, so I offered to make her come as well, but she declined. Shortly after, we were both sound asleep.
Surprisingly, the removal company were on time, arriving at seven in the morning, and because they'd come mob-handed, they were finished by eight thirty. Now we needed to pack.
There was enough room in the car, so it was a difficult task to make it look as if there wasn't. But after thirty minutes of packing, and re-packing, I managed it. When they came to see what I'd done I was very apologetic.
While shrugging my shoulders, I said, "Sorry, it's the best that I could do."
Millie was pleased, but she was trying not to show it. However, my Mother wasn't, and she had no intention of hiding it.
"There are only two seats. I'm not sitting in the back on somebody's lap."
"James will try again, while we have a coffee."
But she knew that I wouldn't. As soon as they were gone I put my feet up, and I stayed like that until they were back.
"I tried, but there's too much stuff."
Then Millie said, "I warned her that this might happen. She's now willing to sit on your lap."
If she'd known that she was going to be sitting on my lap, then she would have worn different clothes. Clothes that would have covered up more of her body. So it wasn't her fault for making me feel uncomfortable.
Her skirt was short, shorter than it should be for a woman of her age, so I could see a lot of leg. That was disconcerting, but the bigger problem was her top. It was low-cut, and because she was big-breasted, when I looked down over her shoulders I could see a lot of cleavage.
As we drove off, I looked away from her. This was going to be difficult. There was already a stirring in my underwear.
"Can you hear me OK?"