Slippery Slope

Then, Mom rolled.

She flipped over, facing me, and her hand fell on my hip.

I liked how it felt, her fingertips so gently resting there. A rapid succession of images ripped through my mind, and, in my weakness, I acted on one.

It couldn't hurt, I thought.

I let my hips roll, ever so slightly, to the side.

Mom's hand slid down. It was now wedged just inside my hip, ever so much closer.

I rolled completely onto my back, and her hand came to rest on my cock.

I silently mouthed, "Oh, shit."

Mom snuggled closer. I felt her breasts against my right arm.

My penis grew under her hand. Soon, it was fully erect, jutting through the gap between her thumb and index finger. I closed my eyes and let the feeling soak through me.

Her hand adjusted—just a reflexive movement, I thought. Yet, suddenly my cock was throbbing in the grip of her fingers. I gasped.

"I'm awake, honey."

"I..."

"Don't talk. Listen." She waited for me to say something. When I didn't, she began. "Take your penis from me. Take it in your hand."

I did.

"That's good," she said. "Now, I want you to please yourself."

I didn't move.

"Stroke it, honey. Please."

Her voice was all sweet cream with an underlying hint of urgency. I did as she asked.

"Make yourself feel good," she urged.

I heard the blanket's soft rustling from my tugging.

"That's it."

I grunted at the sound of her gentle encouragement.

"Keep going, and listen while I tell you what I want," she cooed. "When you begin to feel ready, I would like you to climb over me. The roof is low, so I understand if it's difficult. Climb over me at my chest."

I heard her swallow.

Then, she said, "Honey, I want you to ejaculate into my mouth. Do you understand?"

"Yeah," I whispered.

"You're just giving me something to eat is all."

"Yeah."

"Don't feel embarrassed. Just know that you're helping me."

"I'm close, Mom."

"To me, then, honey. Come."

Mom threw the blanket down to her waist. I put one leg over her and followed with the rest of my body. Her breasts pressed under my thighs. The roof was low enough that I hunched over into the front seat. I put my hand on the driver's side headrest and looked down.

Mom stared at my erection, licking her lips. I stroked, watching her.

She adjusted herself. The tip of my cock was maybe an inch from her lips, but as I stroked, it moved. Mom tried following it with her mouth for a time, and then she reached up and wrapped her hand over mine, keeping the tip steady.

"Come on, honey," she huffed, and her lips surged upward, stretching toward the tip.

I grunted.

"Feed me!" she urged.

"Now," I said.

Her mouth opened wide. Her hand held me tight.

The inside of the car was faintly illuminated by the bright snow outside. I watched the silhouette of my semen fire into her. Another jet launched. Another. Then, it fell from me in drooping globs.

Mom uttered a kind of sweet, open-mouthed hum as it filled her mouth.

Her hand, still over mine, squeezed my penis tightly, stroking again. A final drop eked out from the tip and clung there.

She tugged once more, and the drop fattened, but it didn't fall. She gently shook my erection, but the drop held. Mom grew still, just watching it.

Then, I saw the shadow of her tongue stretch out and wipe the tip clean.

She swallowed with a guttural cluck. "Oh, yes," she gasped. "Oh, thank you, honey."

My strength seemed to leave me completely. With what energy remained, I pushed myself back into the rear area and fell beside her.

I had seen how much cum I usually spent in one orgasm; it was far from a meal, but she seemed genuinely satisfied for the moment.

We laid beside each other in silence, listening to one another's breathing.

Finally, Mom said, "Sleep, honey. Rest."

I did.

***

It could not have been very long before I was awakened to the feeling of my testicles being softly caressed. I was on my side. She was on hers, facing me.

"Mom?"

She shushed me. "Relax, honey."

I did.

When my erection began to fill out, Mom grasped it. "It will be easier for you this way. Me, too."

Fuck, her hands were perfect—so tender and warm, yet firm enough so as to feel like a deep massage.

I groaned.

"Yes," she whispered. "You're just feeding me, just giving me something to help."

She let go of the shaft, and a little spark of anger rose inside me. I had the urge to hiss at her not to stop, but I kept my mouth shut.

She took my hand and placed it on her breast.

It was full and supple. The hard nipple pressed against my palm. I remembered seeing it, remembered how absolutely perfect it was. I squeezed it.

"Yes, honey, let it help you."

I grunted some response.

"Tell me when you're ready."

I squeezed her tit again, and the words just escaped me: "Fuck, they're perfect."

Mom laughed and said, "There's no need to swear, but I'm glad you like them."

The pace of her hand quickened on my cock, and I let out a sigh of thrumming pleasure. Her breast fell out of my hand. It was too good.

I said the same to her.

She moved quickly, sliding down toward my erection. Her jaw gaped, and the tip disappeared inside her mouth. Her hand continued stroking me, and trembling energy starting roaring through my body.

Her lips didn't close down upon the tip. I felt nothing from her mouth.

Then, her wet tongue pressed firmly against the underside.

It threw me over. Every time I grunted, Mom moaned as if the flow of semen into her mouth was, itself, orgasmic for her.

She stroked again, squeezing and milking. Then, her lips closed over the tip.

I groaned.

Her tongue briefly bathed and caressed the tip, and with a smack, she drew back.

I listened to her swallow my cum with a low, feminine moan.

I blew out the air I'd been holding.

Breathlessly, Mom cried, "It's so good, honey. Your semen tastes so good." She let go of my cock, and then she kissed it, whispering, "Thank you."

I sighed, and Mom slid back up to me, hugging my face into her breasts. "It helps you, Mom?"

"It does, honey," she whispered. "Rest now."

I kissed her cleavage, snuggling into it.

Mom kissed the top of my head, and I slept.

***

She shook me awake, but not entirely.

It was deep in the night when I briefly opened my eyes. I closed them again.

"Do you think you might be ready again?" she asked.

Still groggy, I didn't answer. Her words were not quite registering in my brain.

"I want more," she said.

"Tired, Mom," I said, rolling onto my back.

"Oh, I know, honey," she said, soothingly. After a brief pause, she said, "I'm just going to help myself while you rest."

I mumbled a response, but I was fading.

Then, I felt her tongue. I felt it again. She was licking my penis and my balls. She kissed my cock, and then there were more licks. I woke.

"Mom," I began.

She stopped, glancing up at me. Her ponytail wrapped around her neck, dangling on my thigh. Her silhouette was perfectly feminine—high cheekbones and a gently sloping jaw. Fuck, she was gorgeous.

While she waited for me to say something, she kissed my penis again, and then looked up at me.

"I—I don't...that feels really good."

She smiled, bent down, and clasped my penis in her lips.

I felt her suck it's limp, but surging length inside her mouth, and I groaned.

This was the same perfectly mannered and proper woman who on countless occasions had corrected my behavior:

"Wipe your mouth, honey."

"You're not a bell-ringer. Stand up straight, young man."

"I forbid you to eat that off the floor. It's fouled."

"Do not use that word, and especially in front of a lady."

Now, she was sucking my dick.

My cock quickly grew to completeness. Mom's head slid up and down, and the feeling was exquisite. Her mouth was wet and hot, her lips soft. Her bearing and attitude seemed pampering, like all she wanted to do was care for me in the most intimate of ways.

She moved simply, without the contortions and frenetic energy of some woman who just wanted to get her man off. Affection and tenderness characterized her every motion. Despite her intense hunger, it seemed a labor of love.

I told her how good it felt.

She hummed and drew off. "I'm sure you usually let your woman know in advance, but there's no need now. Relax and let it go, okay, honey?"

I nodded vigorously, waiting for her to continue.

"Feed me," she cooed, and her lips clutched the shaft. Her tongue dragged against it inside her mouth. Her head lowered.

I swore at the sheer perfection of it. My body began to fill with raw energy. My chest heaved as I drew breath to feed my muscles with oxygen. Her mouth was giving me power. It surged in my heart, and I flexed my arms and legs. My shoulders rose from the floor when my stomach muscles clenched. My head went dizzy, and I released into her.

She swallowed as it flowed. I heard every throaty gulp and every satisfied moan that followed. She loved it. She fucking loved what my body was giving her.

I collapsed when it ended, swearing and gasping for breath.

She sucked for some time afterward and then drew off.

My cock remained ramrod erect, wobbling when it emerged. It glistened in the snow-illuminated darkness of the car.

Mom slid up beside me, thanking me, and snuggling close. She kissed my cheek and whispered how she wished she had something to give me in return.

She fell asleep well before I did.

***

Flat on my back I awakened to a sensation. My limbs were cold, but my core was warm.

Mom was on top of me, gliding. She was on all fours beneath my stomach, and she was sliding her breasts over my penis in circles. When she noticed me, she stopped. She took one of her breasts in hand and traced little curves over my cock with the nipple.

The lightness of the touch electrified me. I groaned.

She released her breast and started sliding her tits from side to side across my sprouting erection. When it flipped up toward my face, Mom rested her chest on me, so my cock grew to fullness through her cleavage.

Still on her knees, Mom propped the rest of her body on her elbows, one beside each of my hips. Then, using her hands, she imprisoned my cock between her breasts and began rocking her body over me.

The fullness of those tits stirred me. Before, I had an idea of their size, but only in a disinterested way. Now, I experienced their true mass. They were heavy and soft, but underneath that smooth, supple outer layer, there was thickness and density, like an unflexed muscle.

I liked tits, but they weren't a big thing for me. They were just one of the many aspects making women sexy and beautiful. Beyond feeling them and, perhaps, sucking them on occasion, I didn't really see a sexual point to breasts.

I did now.

Mom watched me while she gyrated.

My mouth hung open. I couldn't last. I didn't. I threw my head back, grunting.

Mom stopped, and her lips closed around the fat tip. She sucked hard, and my cock felt like it bent inward as it drew the semen into firing position and surged outward to usher it up the shaft and into Mom's waiting mouth.

I was vocal. I groaned and swore.

When she finished swallowing, she crawled up and laid beside me. "Thank you, honey. You have no idea how much you're helping me."

I rubbed her shoulder.

"I love your cum," she added.

I smiled.

She sighed and almost immediately fell asleep.

I spread the blanket over us both.

***

I woke first. The light of the new day just showed through the frosted windows. My body shivered.

Climbing to the front, I put the key in the ignition and started the engine. I drank my cup of water and went back.

Mom remained fast asleep.

I laid on my back, replaying the night's surprises and pleasures in my mind. It helped keep my mind off my own hunger, which raged when I let it.

It was a new day. I wondered if that might mean something. An ending? A beginning?

I turned to Mom. Her back was to me, and from the shape of the blanket, she'd brought her knees up into a tight fetal position.

My stomach rumbled, and the deep, hollow ache made me wince.

I needed a distraction. Looking at Mom, it was easy to decide. The contours of her hips and ass under the blanket drew my curiosity. The knowledge that she was naked under there—that I could really see her body now that there was some light—moved me. I wanted to see her pussy.

I sat up and flipped my position, still facing Mom, but with my feet toward the front. I had to curl my knees to my chest in order to fit.

Delicately, I lifted the blanket, laying it over her hip. Her ass was completely exposed to me, and I could see the slit of her vagina wedged between her thighs.

I swore. Was there anything—any part of her—that wasn't heart-crushingly perfect? The sight of her ass threw me into confusion. Did some lingerie model take her place in this fucking car? How can this be my Mom, for fuck's sake?

Inching closer, I ran my hands lightly over her flesh—the curve, the thick fullness of her butt, the smooth sleekness of her thigh. Fucking hell.

I whispered, "Oh, Shit. Look at that pussy," and I didn't mean to actually say the words.

I drew nearer, and my nose came to rest mere fractions of an inch from her labia. I inhaled her aroma, and a hunger rose up in me like a rogue wave. I put my tongue on her vagina and slid it across.

I did it again, tightening the tip of my tongue. It dipped inside her.

I swore quietly. This pussy was amazing. Fuck, it tasted good.

"Honey?"

I heard her voice and froze. Then, staring at her pink slit, seeing it shine with my saliva, I said, "Don't stop me."

A moment passed in silence, where neither of us moved. Then her leg lifted, giving me unfettered access.

I buried my face into the opening.

Mom gasped.

Her pussy was simple. There was no excess—no extra wrinkles or fleshy abundance. It was clean and efficient. It didn't look anything like how I imaged some Mom's pussy would look. The thing was a fucking wonder—pristine, like something just having emerged from its original packaging.

She tasted like a woman—or maybe everything a man wants in a woman. It wasn't some pungent, heady thing. Like its appearance, her flavor was simple. It was elegant. I imagined that if roses tasted anything like their scent, then Mom's pussy was like plucking the petal from a pink rose and letting it slowly melt on my tongue.

Her fluids came, and I sucked them up.

I was lost there between her thighs. I had no idea if I was giving her any pleasure at all, and I didn't care. I loved her pussy, and I could not stop licking, sucking, and kissing every inch of it, tirelessly searching for more of its nectar.

Her clitoris, I found when I danced on it with the tip of my tongue, triggered more of her smell and taste. I poured myself into that little nub.

Some few minutes afterward, I felt hands plunge into my hair and grip the back of my head, urging me deeper and closer, drawing my face further into her. I felt thighs clamp down over my ears, securing me in place.

Still, I lapped.

I could barely hear a thing, but the car seemed to shudder with shrieks of rapturous pleasure. A jet of hot, watery fluid cascaded across my tongue and into my mouth. I gulped it, and more came. I didn't give a shit, I swallowed it. I wanted it.

I liked it.

I knew, the moment I first felt the fluid, that it may have been piss. But, it wasn't. The crazy thing is, whether it was my physical or sexual hunger that drove me, I wouldn't have even cared if it had been.

Her thighs relaxed and fell away. Her hands released my head, and I drew back, staring at the glistening pink pussy that I'd just eaten. I glanced at Mom.

She stared at me, spent and satisfied. She didn't speak.

I had the urge tell her something, tell her that her pussy was the most fucking beautiful thing in the universe.

She adjusted herself, sitting up a little,. She covered herself with the blanket. Then, her face took on a stern expression.

I'd seen it before. She looked like that when she as going to tell me I did something improper.

I yanked the blanket off her, seized her hips, and rolled her over onto her stomach. Then, I clutched the two perfect little fat bubbles of her ass in my hands.

She caught her breath, twisting her face around to make eye contact and render her shock.

I wanted to show her that I didn't give a fuck about proper.

I wanted to show her that I loved her body.

I spread her apart and licked her asshole, twice—agonizingly slowly.

She gasped in astonishment.

I let her go and flopped down beside her. I felt her stare, but I didn't look back. I looked at the ceiling of the car, enjoying the moment.

I'd given her an orgasm. I'd made her squirt. I'd dragged my tongue across her proper little asshole.

Somehow, it wasn't enough. I glanced down my own body.

My cock was a column of granite.

I turned to her, swallowing a nervous lump in my throat. Then, I decided.

She knew something was underway. Her eyes flashed at mine, and her head drew back.

I was gentle but unyielding. I rolled her onto her back and spread her legs. I ducked under one and positioned myself to mount her. Driving my hips forward, I stopped. The bulbous head of my cock came to rest, poised and nestled inside her labia, but no further.

I looked at her.

She panted, staring up at me.

I waited.

"Cum in my mouth?" she asked.

"Yeah."

A moment passed, and then she nodded.

I urged my cock into her. She opened slowly for me, and I tried not to force it; I tried to match the pace with which her body allowed my passage.

Her jaw fell open when the tip sank inside. Mine, too. I felt her body fluids coat my erection.

Mom moaned when I reached the limit. I drew back and thrust, now fully lubricated by her.

I stopped when our bodies clapped together.

She held me. I was completely inside her, our bodies as intimately joined as possible.

Her body made me feel like a warm electric current surged through my every fiber and tissue. I couldn't have moved if I wanted to. I didn't. The connection with her felt absolutely sublime.

I was gasping; she was moaning. We made eye contact.

She cried, "It's too good, honey!"

I couldn't respond; I just nodded, preparing myself to move—to fuck her, so I could feel that buzzing surge fill me up again.

Someone pounded on the driver's side window of the car.

I felt two things in machine gun succession: desperate alarm and abject dismay. Mom and I shoved ourselves apart. My mind fucking roared in anger at the interruption of a moment that had been singularly perfect.

"Stay and cover up," I hissed, and I climbed into the front as quickly as I could manage.

The defroster had done its job on most of the windows, but the moisture inside the car made seeing in or out impossible. I was grateful for that.

I buzzed the window down a few inches, enough for the person out there to see inside, but not enough for him or her to see I was completely naked.

"Need any help?" the guy at our window asked. He was wearing a blue snowcap that said BPD on it—a cop.

"Yes, sir! You have no idea."

"Just you?"

"No, my Mom's in here, too." I glanced back. He looked back and saw Mom; she was neatly wrapped up in her blanket. The cop nodded at her.

"Thank you!" she said.

"My pleasure, ma'am." The cop turned back to me. "Anyone hurt?"

"No, just really hungry."

"How long have you been down here?"

"Since yesterday afternoon."

"Cell phones not work in this area?" he asked, glancing around the car.

I sighed. "We both forgot ours."

"Ooh, that's bad luck. Well, bundle up and come on out."

I hesitated. "Give us a minute. Our clothes got wet and we've been trying to stay warm under a blanket."