Trucer Mom

This is about a stepparent, not a biological parent. Some people do not consider that "true" incest. So be it.

Also, this is not a treatise about Freightliner trucks. Over many years, the company produced a large variety of models. Marion does say that it's a 2008 model. For the purposes of this story, it's a two-axle truck with a five-speed manual and a bench seat. I cannot verify if the company ever produced a vehicle with that exact configuration.

######

There are a couple of notable things about me, a woman of forty-two. The first is that I drive trucks for a living. No, not tractor-trailers. That's a bit complicated to do. I work for a moving company and I mostly drive two-axle straight trucks; no trailers. Those are not too hard to handle. Fortunately, I don't have to load and unload them.

The second aspect is that I had a sexual craving for my nineteen-year-old stepson, Nathan. You'll notice I said

had.

That's because it has become an on-going affair.

Maybe you think I'm a wicked lady for doing that. And maybe I am. But let me explain before you pass final judgment.

Ten years ago, I married my second husband, a widower named Philip Delaney. He's a good man, but somewhat lacking in the marital arts. Let's just say that he'd have trouble finding a clitoris if there was a chart of it on the bedroom wall.

I guess that's just as well, because he claimed to not like the taste of pussy. Yet, for a while before it all went downhill, he thought that his dick tasted just fine -- in my mouth, of course.

I really can't blame him; my first husband was lacking with that too. Men may think they are studs, but a surprising number never learned what the hell they should do with a woman. If you try to guide them, some just won't listen.

Maybe you may have seen those guys on YouTube and on their blogs, even with entire books, claiming that women are only interested in sex to get "resources." Millions of years of evolution and all that. They certainly are verbose, and end up saying the same things for years.

I can only speak for myself. If you've ever read Erica Jong (I guess I'm showing my age) describe herself at twenty-four as an "unfucked wife" -- well, she reported wanting to copulate after a while with any and all males within reach.

For me at forty-two it was the same situation. And right in my house, there was Nathan, Phil's son and my step-son, reaching the age of eighteen. (For some reason he never wanted to be called Nate.) Fortunately, he went away to college for ten months so some of the pressure was off me. Then, the next summer, he was back home for the duration of the season.

Oh Lord, I tried to be a good girl, I really did. But just like the heart knows what it wants, so does the pussy.

*****

The first time I knew I could get into a real situation was when he came back for the Christmas break in his freshman year. I wasn't thinking when one afternoon I pushed open the door to his room without knocking. There were some towels I had to get from the closet, you know?

So there was Nathan lying face down on his bed wearing only a tee-shirt and humping his own pillow. Some men -- and some ladies too -- will use that technique in their masturbation rotations

For a couple of seconds I looked at his tight ass clench as he thrust himself back and forth. I could imagine myself under him where the pillow was.

Nathan, please bang me instead of that damn thing.

He turned to look at me and my embarrassment was intense. I simply left the room and closed the door. Fortunately, Nathan had a lot of sense and he never mentioned it later. But for the next several months, he was often in my thoughts as I whacked off. I think I imagined doing it with him everywhere and in every possible way.

****

Then in June he was back from the University of Nevada, Las Vegas. (Actually, it's in Paradise! No, not the one John Milton lost; the town in Nevada.)

He had some dinky part-time job over the summer. Sometimes he was out with friends, but I never saw him with any girls. He had mentioned dating two of them at school, but I knew nothing else about his private life.

At other times, he was around our house in Reno, and that could be difficult for me to handle. I would have liked to just grab him and throw him down on the floor, but I behaved myself for a while. Yet I knew that, under the right circumstance, I might slip and do something drastic about my lust.

I had no children of my own, but I got along very well with Nathan. He never called me "mom" but always by my first name, Marion. That was fine, because I didn't feel like his mom, but rather like an aunt or favorite teacher or some other role I couldn't define.

He was a pretty low-key guy, and he always treated me with respect. In fact, I enjoyed talking with him, much more than I did with his father.

By nineteen, he was about five-ten and his body was a bit of the slender side, not "ripped" like some guys who like to work out a lot. He had nice wavy dark hair and dark eyes.

When I was around him, I was aware of a desire for him that was both fierce and tender at the same time. My body quivered, but I maintained my self-control -- for a while, anyway.

******

I suppose I'm not that unusual looking; men do not stare at me in the supermarket or wherever. I'm about five-seven, and my brown hair is down to my shoulders. That's about as much hair as I wish to maintain. I have steel-rimmed glasses, but I'm a bit vain about those and I often push them to the top of my head even though I can't see as well.

At my age, I've developed a bit of hip spread. However, a little "junk in the trunk" doesn't bother me.

****

Trucking: I got into that about five years ago when I was laid off from an insurance company, I wanted something different, so went out and got hired by a moving company, Silver State Lines.

The company had a couple of tractor-trailers, but that seemed like too big a lift for me. Those big rigs can jack-knife, the loads can shift, they are difficult to park and to drive in cities and towns. Also, I generally didn't want to be away from home too much.

The two-axle Freightliners and sometimes a smaller van suited me just fine. I'd help the movers deal with whatever the families wanted and offer advice in setting up a household. Yes, I think the customers liked having a woman to negotiate with along with the all-male crew.

Often, I had a local trip within Reno. For longer trips, I'd pick up the loaded vehicle at the Silver State lot and drive it to any number of places like Lake Tahoe, Winnimucca, or Carson City. The moving crew would go in a separate passenger van, but it was never in a convoy with me.

Sometimes, I had to go to, say, Salt Lake City and I'd be away for one night. It was on just such a trip that I had my first sexual encounter with Nathan.

*****

In early July I was assigned to a Reno to Provo, UT trip. As a sort of experiment, I invited my stepson to come along for the two-day ride there and back. Phil had no objections and thought it was a fine idea.

Nathan wanted to go on that adventure with his favorite Auntie Marion. As for myself, I was having some naughty thoughts but I hadn't worked out a full scenario yet. If I saw my opportunity, I would take it.

That is why, instead of I-80, I chose U.S. 50, the so called "loneliest road in America," to cross the state. I hoped all that empty space and solitude might allow for some serious fooling around with Nathan It would take a bit longer to drive, but the benefits seemed to be worth it.

*****

On the appointed day, I showed up wearing a skirt and blue shirt. It was rare but not unknown for me to wear a skirt while driving, although at that time it was a conscious decision on my part. My foot gear, however, consisted of work boots and heavy socks.

That morning, Nathan and I went to the Silver State facility and picked up the truck which had been loaded the day before. It was a 2008 model, the oldest vehicle in the fleet and the one with the highest mileage. Yet "Old Reliable" needed fewer repairs and broke down less often than many of the newer trucks.

We went out of Reno along I-80, but then I turned south into a spur called U.S. 50 Alt. By the afternoon, we were going long a mostly straight section in a very isolated area near Sevier Lake. All I needed was a good pretext to make my move. We were certainly in the right place for me to do that.

As we went along a straight-a-way, Nathan gave me the excuse that I needed for one of my scenarios. He asked me about the floor-mounted five-speed shifter. "I've never learned how to use one of those, I mean a stick-shift."

"I can show you how to do it, if you wish."

"Really? That would be great."

"Okay, I'm going to pull over to the side first."

My plan was a bit weird and even risky, but I wanted to try it anyway. You wouldn't know if from looking at me, but there is a side of me that likes odd activities.

I also knew that I about to cross the first line.

What the hell, Marion, try it and see how it goes.

I got my courage together and said, "First of all, you'll come over here and sit in the driver's seat."

"Sure, that seems fine." I unbuckled my seat belt and moved a bit to the right.

"All right, take the seat then." Then I went over that first line. "And I'll sit on your lap after that."

Nathan was obviously confused. I launched into an explanation, or maybe it was a justification. "I'll do most the steering, and I'll show you how to shift. I can't reach the pedals, so you'll have to work those."

"I don't know how to use a clutch."

"Don't worry, I'll tell you what to do."

Then he asked an obvious question. "Why should I have you sit on my lap again?"

I gave him my best come-hither look. I smiled and winked at him and simply said, "Because I asked you, that's why."

I'll never know the exact reason why he did it, but he moved over and I got up enough for him to pass under me. Maybe it was because he saw me as an authority figure who must be obeyed. Or maybe he was just intrigued by the concept.

After he attached his seat belt, I moved to perch myself on him. My fleshy ass pressed down on his lap.

You know what happens to guys that age when a female plops down on their crotches? They get erections, almost immediately. Within a few seconds, I could feel him rising up inside his pants.

At the beginning, we had the driving to be concerned with. Neither of us mentioned his aroused condition. The next thing I said was, "Now, I'm going to start the engine. Push the clutch down, all the way down."

"Why?"

"The engine will stall if you don't. Keep it down."

Once it was running, I said, "As I mentioned, I'll do most of the steering.plus the shifting. Now, let me show you the gear shift. It's in neutral right now, which means it's not connected to anything. Now watch; you don't have to memorize this immediately." I moved the lever and described the five forward speeds plus reverse, going through all six positions.

"How will I know what gear it's in?"

"After a while, you can tell just by looking at the position it's in." A lewd thought came to my mind:

Just like you can tell if a women is ready to be penetrated by looking at her vulva. And feeling it, too.

I shook my mind back into the task at hand. "Just remember, the clutch as to be down before shifting gears. You might damage the transmission otherwise. Don't be too concerned, I'll tell you when I'm going to shift."

So far, so good.

"We're going to drive along the shoulder first." I checked the mirrors and then looked ahead; there was nothing coming in either direction. "This is a bit tricky. When you want to start moving, push the accelerator down as you let the clutch up."

Of course, on his first two attempts, he stalled the engine. I had to reassure him. "It's okay, you'll get the hang of it. Don't release the clutch too fast. As you give it fuel, you'll feel the other pedal pushing against your foot. That's a sign that you can let it up."

On the third attempt, the truck lurched forward. "Give it a bit more fuel, speed up. I'll go into second in a moment."

"Are you supposed to shift at a certain speed?"

"Sort of; let me worry about that. When I say 'push', press the clutch down. When I say, 'release', let it up again. Now, I've got to shift into second, so push." He did that perfectly.

I thought,

Why Marion, why do you have to mix the driving thing with the sexual thing at the same time? Because I like a challenge, that's why.

Yet I knew we couldn't linger in this initial stage for too long. Fortunately, I knew guys Nathan's age were on a hair trigger with their first cum shot. If all else failed, we could always pull over again.

Then it was into third. With that, I steered into the travel lane. And I got to work on my plan. I vigorously moved my behind back and forth, left to right, against the cloth of Nathan's jeans. If anything, I could feel him getting harder.

I heard him say, "Oh." A moment later he said, "I'm sorry, Marion."

"Sorry for what?"

"You know what."

"Didn't it occur to you that I'm doing this deliberately?"

"Seriously?"

"I wouldn't kid you about something like that. Keep speeding up, give it more fuel." Then it was into fourth. Nathan got the truck up to about fifty, so I left it in that gear. I kept looking into the mirror to make sure no one was overtaking us.

I said, "Look, we can't dawdle." He knew what I meant, I hoped. I took my hands off the wheel for a moment to lift my skirt up. "Do you like my panties?" They were ample pink ones with white dots.

"Oh, yeah, they look great."

I went into my didactic mode. "Now listen, I'm going to take these off; you unbuckle your pants and take your cock out."

He asked another obvious question. "What are we going to do?"

I wasn't sure how to word it, but I crossed another line. It came out as, "Clearly, I'm going to rub my behind against you until you ejaculate on me."

"Girls tease a lot, I know that."

"Believe me, any woman who says that is likely not teasing. If she was, she'd be a fool or very cruel indeed. Let's get to this already."

Simultaneously, I got my drawers off and dropped them on the floor as he undid his pants. In a moment, I pushed back on him and felt his cock against my ass crack.

I knew it was a lot to ask of him, but I told him to keep the speed up. He'd be distracted for sure, but it seemed likely I could get him to come in a few minutes.

Lord, please don't let another vehicle overtake us. Just give us five or six minutes, that's all.

It was time for me to get serious. I swiveled my ass around, ramming him as hard as I could. I was distracted too yet I still had to steer. But the road was empty and quite straight at that point.

Bless him, Nathan didn't question my motives any further, but just gave himself over to pleasure. He had been resting his hands on the steering wheel too, but then he dropped them down to hold my hips. To keep my rhythm going, I sang a little ditty, "dee, da, dee, dee. Do dah do, do, do."

It all went as I had hoped. Nathan moaned and pushed back against me. Shortly, his movements became frantic and he pulled on my body. I encouraged him. "Please, shoot, right now! Show your Marion what you can do for her."

In a few more seconds, he did demonstrate it for me. He had let the speed drop to about forty, but it was too late. Behind me, I heard the unmistakable sounds of a man having an orgasm. His semen shot up along the small of my back. The fluid felt hot against my flesh.

I yelled, "That's it, that's it! Release! Release!"

*****

About ten minutes later, we were parked off the road again. I was sitting in the driver's seat, and Nathan was pressed against me with his arm around my shoulders. We both had seltzer bottles that I kept in a cooler on the floor. However, we weren't saying anything.

I could feel that his cum had gone up into the tail of my shirt, but I didn't mention that either. Finally, I looked at him and said, "So what did you think of all that?"

His answer floored me. "I liked it, but it wasn't very romantic."

I found that funny instead of insulting and I laughed. "Would you like a make-out session then?"

"That would be great."

I swung myself over him, cowgirl style, and pushed my glasses up. We began kissing passionately. At one point, he murmured, "Marion, you're so pretty."

That really touched me, because I don't remember anybody saying that to me before. I responded, "I'm sure you've thought about a girl with no panties straddling you, haven't you?"

"Of course I have."

"That girl would be me! So feel me up then."

"Excuse me?"

"Start by putting your hands under my skirt and fondling my backside." A moment later, I said, "When you're done with that, put your hand between my legs and feel me there."

"How much should I do down there?"

"As much as you want. Follow your instincts."

I never knew exactly how far Nathan had gone with those two girls at his school. I didn't want to embarrass him by asking. Most guys are cagey anyway, and will exaggerate the extent of their sexual experiences. In the next few minutes, however, I did get some clues.

When he tentatively started touching my vulva, he said, "Marion, you're all wet there."

"You know what that's about, don't you?"

"Sort of."

Again, I didn't know if I should be clinical or vulgar or whatever. I said, "When a woman is aroused she secretes fluids. That makes it easier for man's penis to enter her." If only my two husbands had followed that guideline.

Nathan looked concerned, so I said, "You also know what all of that action in the driver's seat was about?"

"To give me pleasure?"

"It was more than that."

I took his chin in my hand and made him look at me straight in the eyes. "Young men like you come too fast in the first shot. Thus, I had you come once before you penetrated me."

That was a lot for him to take in. I decided to button my shirt and then undo my bra. My small breasts fell free.

"Rub my nipples, suck on them."

"Women like that kind of thing?"

He had given away more info than he had intended, but he quickly grew enthusiastic about the breast action. I held his shoulders and moaned. "Don't forget the rest of the foreplay, my butt and my crotch again. Mix it up, I think you know what to do."

It all felt wonderful; it seemed like a long time since I had gotten that aroused. Well, I wasn't counting the times I did it to myself.

"You're doing so, so well with this."

He made me laugh again. "Just like I did with the clutch."

His pants were still unbuckled. "I haven't actually seen your cock yet. Let me take it out." Once I had, I said, "Oh, that is a very nice one." I wasn't exaggerating either.

In a little while, I was wondering how to finally take him. We were all lined up for me to be on top, but I decided against it. Instead, I lay down on the seat with my feet towards the steering wheel.

"Please, lick my pussy. Again, follow your instincts. Start with your lips and kiss me. Also, go up and down with your tongue, then go deeper. Get yourself into position to do that."

If he really was a virgin, he certainly caught on quickly. I grabbed his head and lifted my legs up. "This is so sweet, keep on going."

Might as well get good and horny.

It was almost time. I said, "I'd suck on you too, but I don't think you need to be primed any further."

"Yes, you've got that right." That made me chuckle too.

"Get on top of me, I'm ready to go." Then I reached to pull his jeans and drawers down below his knees. That was the last line to cross.

After I had guided him into me -- well, what was that line about rhythmic pelvic thrusts from

The Naked Ape

?

In an uninhibited situation, they are usually rather rapid and deeply penetrating.

That was what Nathan did. Desmond Morris was one dirty old zoologist.