"I have to do a bit of shopping." I told my son Craig, "Want to come along for the ride?"
"Nah, Mom, it looks like rain, so I think I'll just hang around here."
I was a little disappointed because I liked his company, but after all he was home to have a break from his university studies, so he was entitled to spend his time as he saw fit. I should be pleased that he had chosen to spend part of his break at home, unlike his sister Cheryl who had told us was staying with a couple of girlfriends. At least I hoped she was with girlfriends. Grabbing the keys to Henry T, I headed for the door. "OK, Baby, I'll only be about an hour."
"That's OK Mom, take your time. I'm a big boy now, I can look after myself."
There was certainly no arguing on that score. At six feet two inches and nineteen years old he towered over my own five feet five, but I still got a kick out of teasing him by calling him my little boy.
As I settled behind the wheel of the old Ford, I sniffed and grinned. It didn't take an Einstein to figure out what my son had been up to last night. Not that I blamed him, but I could only hope that he had been more careful than his dad Ben and I had been in the same back seat twenty years earlier. It hadn't been an old Ford then of course, nor had it yet been christened Henry T, after the founder of the manufacturer. In fact it had been brand new, and Ben had just picked it up from the showroom. It hadn't taken much persuasion for me to slide into the passenger seat, and we had gone for a long drive. Miles from anywhere, he had pulled over and I had moved willingly into the circle of his arms, just as I had many times when he had borrowed his dad's car. I had only intended it to be the usual make out session, with a lot of kissing and a little harmless teenage petting, and I don't know if it was the new car smell or the excitement of a new car, but things got out of hand and almost without realising it we were in the back seat and Ben was popping my cherry.
We had intended to wait until our wedding night, which was only three months away, but now that we had taken the first step we couldn't get enough of each other. When my father proudly walked me down the aisle, he had no idea that he was also escorting his first grandchild. Over the ensuing months and years, Henry T had become an integral part of our lives, and had been instrumental in maintaining the magic in our marriage. In fact I was certain that both Craig, and two years later Cheryl, had both been conceived on the same back seat.
Of course time and the escalating costs of fuel had taken their toll, and the old Ford had been relegated to the status of standby car, in preference to a more modern model that was more reliable and cheaper to maintain. That is not to say that the old bus was neglected. Far from it, because in addition to me using it for shopping trips, Craig and Cheryl both shared its use whenever they were home. Not to mention that Ben and I weren't averse to taking the odd spin for old times' sake. In fact I was pretty sure our son would be shocked if he knew that, only three nights ago, his staid old parents had pulled over in a quiet spot and fucked their brains out in Henry T's back seat.
The memory set up a pleasant warm tingling in my crotch, but my mood was shattered when the old bus sputtered to a stop. I looked at the fuel gauge and cursed. There had been half a tank before Craig had taken the car last night, so the least he could have done was top it up before he came home. I locked the doors, and with an apprehensive glance at the sky I started on the quarter mile trudge home. It was definitely turning out not to be my day, because not only did it look like I wouldn't get any shopping done, but halfway home the heavens opened, and by the time I arrived I was soaked to the skin.
Letting myself in I headed for the living room to give Craig a piece of my mind, and stopped dead in the doorway. My son had grown more than I had realised, because he was slumped in the armchair, staring at a pornographic DVD, with his hand wrapped around a very impressive piece of meat. I watched for a moment then tiptoed back to the front door, opened it silently and slammed it before returning to the living room. The DVD player went silent and he was sitting upright in the chair with a guilty look on his face.
He stared at me. "Mom! What are you doing back so soon? I thought you'd be gone for ages yet." He continued to look me up and down, and I tossed the keys at him.
"I'm back because someone didn't fill the car up last night, and I ran out of fuel." I snapped. "And thanks to that someone I got soaked through." His eyes were still fixed on me and he hunched forward as I added "Now someone can just go retrieve the car and fill the tank. I'm going to shower and put some dry clothes on."
I went upstairs to the bedroom Ben and I shared, and catching a glimpse of myself in the mirror my jaw dropped in shock. I'd known I was soaked, but what I hadn't realised was that the rain had made my thin summer dress almost see through, and I blushed almost as red as the skimpy bra and thong which were clearly visible through the fabric. Even worse, the chill had made my nipples stand out like thimbles. No wonder Craig had stared! When I heard the front door slam I undressed and stepped under the shower. The warm spray was relaxing, and I closed my eyes when suddenly a thought struck me. Craig had hunched forward in his chair when he stared at me. Surely he hadn't got an erection looking at his own mother? I shook my head in denial. Of course he hadn't, he'd been watching a porno movie. It must have been that, right? This brought my mind back to what I'd seen. Telling myself I was only thinking objectively, I admitted he did have rather a handsome tool, but that didn't mean anything, did it? But if that was true, why hadn't the warm water made my nipples subside? If anything they were even harder, and the warm wetness between my thighs wasn't all due to the shower. With a shock I realised that somehow my hand had found its way between my thighs, parting my shaved lower lips, and was now working furiously on my swollen clit. My orgasm was sudden and intense, and I sank to the floor of the shower, trembling as my cum poured from my slit.
Gradually I regained my composure, and riddled with shame I finished my shower and towelled myself dry. As I dressed I started looking for excuses for what had happened, and by the time I finished I had all but convinced myself that I didn't really fancy my own son. Why would I when I had such a fantastic sex life with his father? It was just that the idea that he had been turned on by seeing me virtually in my underwear had turned me on. This in turn had made him spur of the moment masturbation material, because let's face it I was already horny after thinking what went on in Henry T. After all I often played with myself whilst Ben was at work, so this was just another to add to my list of impossible fantasies.
Nonetheless, when Craig returned with Henry T, I couldn't bring myself to meet his eye, so I avoided him by busying myself with preparing the evening meal. When Ben came home all was ready, and I was just finished setting the table. My thoughts were in a turmoil as we ate, and by the time we had finished I had it all straightened out in my mind.
I refused to believe that my handsome son was a pervert, turned on by seeing his mom in her skimpy underwear. Unfortunately this suggested an equally unpleasant interpretation. There was no way I could deny that at least in part, I had been aroused by him seeing me almost exposed, and let's face it his cock had looked good, so maybe it was I who was the pervert. It certainly sat easier with me to think of myself in that light, rather than think it of my son. I had never considered myself to be immodest, except of course with Ben, but now the tantalising thought of Craig seeing me in just my underwear, without my dress, was making my pussy tingle uncomfortably.
As soon as the dinner things were cleared away, I was relieved when Craig picked up the keys to Henry T, and said he was off out for the evening. The instant I heard the roar of the engine fading away down the street, I sat on Ben's lap and kissed him long and hard. Within minutes I was leaning over the couch, sighing happily as my husband's wonderful cock fucked me to an equally wonderful and much needed climax. Three hours and countless orgasms later we fell into bed, happily exhausted and my pussy dripping from repeated loads of cum.
When I woke in the morning I looked back on the sensational time I'd had the night before, and felt confident that the reaction I had had to Craig seeing me in my wet clothes had been no more than a momentary aberration, triggered by my earlier reminiscences in Henry T. No matter how confident I was however, I felt I needed to be sure. After Ben left for work I took a long shower, and not wanting to tempt fate too much I pulled on a pair of brief panties in preference to my customary thong. Selecting a dress ring from my jewellery box, I clenched it in my fist and knelt on the floor at the foot of my bed. Making sure that my robe had ridden up enough to reveal my butt, I thrust my arm under the bed and called out. "Craig! Help me!"
The door opened behind me and in the several seconds of silence that followed, I was sure I could feel his eyes burning into me, especially where the thin fabric cupped my mound, and I got the answer I really hadn't wanted. Hating myself for the heat that was surging through my loins, and even more because it felt so good, I gave it a few more moments, then called out again, as though I didn't know he was there. "Craig, come here! My arm is stuck!" There was another brief silence before Craig chuckled and I felt something brush across my bottom - I couldn't be sure if it was his hand or his shin -- and then he was standing astride me. He crouched to grasp the edge of the bed, and this time I convinced myself I could feel his hard young cock pressing against my panty covered ass.
