Sitting in my stepson lap episode 4

Sitting On My StepSon Lap +18
Part 4
 
“I just need to stretch for a bit,” I answered.
“I could grab a drink,” my husband nodded, as he pulled into the stop.
“Me too,” I agreed, feeling a bit dehydrated. Once we rolled to a stop I joked to mike, “I imagine you’re dying for a break, too.” “No, I’ve been enjoying the ride,” my stepson answered without implying any sort of s€×ual
innuendo. Truth be told, except for my frustration and guilt, part of me had been enjoying
the ride too, but if I dared to mention it, there would be a definite s€×ual charge to my
words, so I remained silent.
My face, which was already quite flushed, went a shade darker as I opened the door and climbed out. I’m not sure if my face could get any redder than it already was.
We went to the rest room, eat, after I headed to the bathroom and clean myself. My stepson climbed back into the car first and patted his lap. I’d intended to get in first and suggested, “Shouldn’t we try side by side again?”
“It’s okay, Mom,” he said, patting his lap once again. “You sure?” I asked, knowing it could get awkward without my wearing any p-nties and my p*ssy still damp… the aftermath dribble of a strong orgasm.
“Side by side will be too tight,” he replied. “We already learned that the hærd way.”
There’s that word ‘tight’ again, I thought. Is he saying that on purpose?
“But I’ll crush your legs,” I pointed out, desperate to avoid sitting on his c*ck again… having enjoyed it too much the first time.
.
.
.
He shrugged dismissively, “Oh Mom, you’re not heavy at all.”
“You sure?” I asked again, still tentative, as I looked down and could still see the shading of a p*ssy juice stain on his shorts, as well as the clear outline of his c*ck… which at least no longer looked to be completely er-ct.
“Mom, it’s not hærd at all,” he answered, now repeating the word ‘hærd’ .
The naughty side of me wanted to respond, ‘but it likely will be hærd quite soon’, but the
good mom in me responded, “If you’re sure I won’t mother you?”
He shrugged, “I can handle whatever you give me.” So I sat back down on his lap, his words again possibly dripping with innuendo, this time adjusting myself sideways to sit more onto his leg to avoid his crotch.
For half an hour I sat precariously but reasonably virtuously in that s₱0t as we continued driving. Then I felt his hands on my h¡ps as he informed me, not asking for my opinion, while he lifted me up slightly, “Mom, we need to change positions.” When he lowered me back down, my p*ssy was again directly seated on his c*ck, which was again stiff and prominent. I couldn’t help but let out a slight mo-n as my unclad p*ssy once again responded to its pressure.
.
.
.
”
I just sat there; still in complete shock that my stepson’s c*ck was buried deep in,side me, anchoring me in place.
I just sat there; the urge to start riding my stepson’s c*ck growing with every second it remained in,side me.
I just sat there; wondering what my astonishing stepson was going to do next.
I just sat there; secretly wishing mike would take even more control.
I just sat there; worried that if my stepson did take control, I would be unable to conceal the obvious reality that we were committing incest just inches away from my husband. I just sat there and… judge me if you must… enjoyed the ride, every bump in the road giving me fresh pleasure as mike’s c*ck surged up in,side me. I had to use all my will power not to mo-n, not to alert my husband to the incestuous adultery I was committing
and I couldn’t deny, committing willingly.
.
.
.
This seemed to prompt my stepson finally to take control. He began slowly lifting me up and down on his c*ck.
I clamped my l-ips together to make sure I wouldn’t mo-n as a mixture of emotions swirled through me.
Excitement: because my stepson was finally taking control.
Humiliation: because I was excited he was taking control.
Pleasure: because the slow f-cking was now coursing through every fibre of my being.
Frustration: because he wasn’t f-cking me hærd like I liked it, although I knew there was no way that was a good idea.
Guilt: because I was allowing my stepson to f-ck me.
What strange sound and movement am I hearing back there? My husband asked.