We pulled into a motel parking lot a couple hours after that. I had managed to drive the whole way without killing us, which was bordering on miraculous considering the fact that in the last two hours my mother had given me a handjob, a blowjob, another handjob, and another blowjob.
She marveled at the geysers of cum spewing from my pulsating, throbbing cock even as she drank it, and she said there's no WAY I could get hard again after something like that, not for hours ... but then I'd look down at the way her tits were swaying and bouncing gently as we went down the road, and I'd remember the sight of her prim middleaged brown hair hovering over my lap, and I'd remember the slurping sounds her lips had made on my cock, and I'd remember the little dab of my cum at the corner of her mouth which her tongue darted out to lick away, and my cock would rise again, and again, and again, and as the copilot it would be her job to take care of the problem. She took care of it, all right. In spades.
And I was hard again. "Let's forget the bags," I said to her as I turned the car off, "and just go up to the room right now."
She looked down in amazement at yet another huge bulge in my pants. "My GOD, Teddy! Again? How can you keep DOING that??"
"For you, Mom..." I started. She knew the finish of that sentence. "So can we?"
She looked hungrily at the bulge, and seemed about to give in, but then she shook her head. "No, honey. Listen, I'm exhausted, and I'm starving, I haven't had anything to eat all day."
I grinned. "Really? You've had something in your mouth, though..."
"HEY." She held up her pointing finger, which I knew from years of scoldings meant business. "Young man, we do NOT mention things like that in the light of day, in public. Do you get me?
"One understanding we're going to have to have, no matter what happens, is that when there are people around you and I are MOTHER and SON and there is no hint or suggestion of anything improper, EVER, or our lives will be over. We may even be arrested, I don't know. Do you understand what I'm saying? For the time being I am just YOUR MOTHER, period. Nothing more. Got me?"
I nodded. "I got it, Mom. Sorry."
"And anyway I don't like that dirty talk when it's not...dirty time, I guess, if you know what I mean. There's a place for dirty talk, and there's a place for appropriateness. Got me?"
"I got it. Really. No problem."
She cleared her throat, glancing once at the bulge in my jeans. "Now. You get rid of THAT, mister, because you and I are going to that restaurant right over there and having dinner like two normal people who've been driving all day. No ifs, ands, or buts about it. Now let's go."
And with that she got out of the car and put on her coat. The subject was closed.
It was not easy to get rid of, but I thought of horror movies and other sick shit, and if I walked slightly hunched-over, like my back was hurting from driving all day, you couldn't tell what was on my mind anymore.
We checked into the hotel and I lugged our bags up to the room (two beds this time, no impropriety), then we went back downstairs and went into the restaurant next door. A mother and her son, stopping overnight for some dinner and some sleep. Entirely proper.
But a funny thing seemed to happen to my mother when the waitress seated us. She took hold of my hand and squeezed it, and smiled over at me with a smile I didn't know very well, a mischievous smile, and as the waitress seated us in a booth my mom scooted in next to me, not across from me, and leaned over to kiss me.
Was this a test? Who gave a shit? I kissed her back.
"Sorry," Mom said, looking up at the waitress and straightening her hair. "My boyfriend and I just got into town and we haven't seen each other for a long time. I kind of can't keep my hands off him."
The waitress laughed. "Don't worry about it, I understand. Would you prefer a booth in the back half of the restaurant? It's a bit more secluded..."
"No, it's all right, we'll behave. But thank you."
The waitress said she'd get us some waters and some menus and she walked off.
I turned to Mom. "What the heck was---"
But she was already leaning up against me and pressing her lips against mine and pressing her palm against my chest. So I pulled her close to me and kissed her back, and the kissing got heavier, and soon we were sucking on each other's tongues and my cock was getting hard again...and the waitress was standing there. She was smiling.
My mother blushed furiously. "I'm so sorry..."
"Please don't be," the waitress said, laughing, setting the water and the menus down. "My husband and I used to be the same way. He worked on oil rigs and I'd go months without seeing him, and when we got together, ooh boy..."
She fanned herself, giggling at the memory. "So you two enjoy yourselves, it's all right." She left us alone again.
Mom reached over and cupped the bulge in my pants. "He just never goes away, does he?" she whispered.
"Uh, I thought...I thought we were supposed to be just mother and son..."
"I know, I know, but...I remembered that waitress from last night and I just couldn't help myself, it's so...so THRILLING and DARING to pretend to be boyfriend and girlfriend with you out here in the middle of nowhere, where nobody knows us and they'll never see us again. It's such an adventure. And then I think of what you're going to do to me in that hotel room and OH BABY I get so wet,.
She took my hand and put it between her thighs and pressed my palm against her and I could actually feel that, yes, her pants were a little damp there; she pulled me close to kiss her some more.
Having the license to go to town, I quickly started cupping her huge breasts, which elicited a meowing gasp of approval from Mom as she kissed me. Then the waitress came back and asked if we were ready to order and we had to stop.
We picked up the menus and started looking, while the woman waited. It always takes me a little longer to decide what I want than Mom, so she started chatting with the waitress while I was figuring it out. They talked about the town, what little there was to do here, and then my mom asked about her husband. "Does he still work on the oil rigs?"
"No...unfortunately, Bill passed away about five years ago. Just about six, now, actually. He had cancer."
"Oh, honey, I'm SO SORRY," Mom said, taking her hand and squeezing it.
The waitress shrugged, smiling. "Oh, we had twenty good years together, so I can't complain."
"Twenty years, that's how long my husband and I were married," Mom said. "Only he didn't pass away, he passed ME off for a younger model." She smiled over at me. "So I guess I did the same thing."
She laughed. "Well good for you! I'd do that myself, the only problem is that all the young men around here are the kids of friends of mine so I'd be in trouble." She looked over at me. "You're a lucky woman, my dear. Very lucky."
Mom squeezed my hand. "Thank you. I AM lucky. I...was so lonely before he came along. It gets so lonely sometimes."
"Yes, it does," the waitress agreed.
"You miss a man's touch, you feel like you'll go crazy if somebody doesn't pay a little attention to you once in awhile." She looked into my eyes, leaned forward and kissed me.
"He's my little prize for making it through, I think," Mom said, then turned to the waitress. "I wish you had a prize, too, Darla." That's what her nametag said.
Darla shrugged again, smiling, melancholy. "It's okay. Maybe someday."
"Someday," Mom said, and then we ordered. The food came, Mom and Darla chatted a bit more, Mom and I kissed a bit more, we drank some coffee and talked to Darla a bit more, then Darla went to get our check.
Mom leaned close to me. I thought she wanted to kiss me, but she shook her head and whispered, "Teddy...do you think Darla is attractive?"
"What?"
"You heard me. Is Darla attractive to you? I know you said that waitress from last night wasn't attractive, she was too skinny, but Darla's curvier than the other lady. She's got a nice backside, and bigger boobs---not as big as MINE, of course---and she's very pretty. Don't you think so? And she's at least my age, maybe even a little older. What do you think?"
"I..." Darla came back with our check and set it down.
She was tall, almost as tall as I was, and she had long strawberry-blonde hair, she wore a bit too much makeup to try and hide her age but yes, she was pretty, and yes she had bigger breasts than the waitress from last night (nothing compared to my mother's, but that was true of most women on the planet)...and yes, her hips were nice and round and her ass was pretty plump, I had to admit...finally I looked over at Mom and shrugged and nodded yes.
While Mom was counting out the change, she said to her: "Darla, I hope you don't mind my asking, but what time to you get off work tonight?"
She looked up. "Uh, one o'clock, about half an hour. Why?"
"It's just that we've really enjoyed talking to you, you're a wonderful person, and if you're not too tired and if you don't have anything important to do..."
Darla laughed. "Not a thing, not a thing. Just watching TV 'til I fall asleep, like usual."
"Well, if you're interested, why don't you come across the street and come see us in our room for awhile? If you'd like to, we'd love to have you."
Darla paused, and I wasn't entirely sure that she wasn't going to get angry and throw us out of the restaurant.
What was my mother suggesting? What was Darla thinking my mother was suggesting?
She looked down at her shoes for a second, then glanced over at me, and seeing me looking back at her she gave me a frank once-over and looked me in the eyes, and finally a smile spread across her face and she looked back at my mother. "You know what? I think I'd like that. Sure, I'll run over there for a bit, why not?"
"Oh, good," Mom said. "It's room 229. Second floor, near the back."
"I'll be there," she said, and took our money.
#
Walking across the street to the hotel, holding hands, I looked over at my mother, who was surprising me more and more with each passing second.