The Longest Ride Ch. 01

Author's Note: all characters are 18+. This story contains dubious consent and taboo themes. If this is triggering for you, please click away now. This story is also inspired by the many others like it, I lay no claim to originating this idea, but I hope you enjoy my creative take on it. Enjoy!

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"I'm really hungry, can we stop soon?" Carly asked, her voice a little whiney as she leaned over the center console to pout at her father.

"Next rest stop is in five miles," my husband replied tiredly from the driver's seat.

Ethan, our son, groaned beneath me. "I don't want rest stop food! Can we eat at an actually restaurant, please?"

I patted his arm. "Can the princess wait that long?"

Carly glared at me in the rearview mirror. Because of all the boxes and suitcases of stuff piled high in the first row of seats of our SUV, she was only able to see her brother and I from the shoulders up where we sat in the third and last row.

"I'm not a princess," Carly snapped, her blue eyes hard and cold.

"Hey!" Bob clipped. "Don't talk to your mother in that tone."

"Sorry, Daddy." She pouted her lip and batted her eyelashes at him.

I rolled my eyes. Ever since becoming a teenager, Carly has been a hormonal mess. As high school went on, she distanced herself from me and became more of a daddy's girl. This surprised me, since it's usually the other way around. And if I'm completely honest, I was a little jealous over losing my baby girl's adoration to her father.

Carly's attitude got even worse now that she was eighteen because a feeling of entitlement came over her. Like just because she was legally an adult now, her behavior didn't matter and we couldn't discipline her. Bob and I were hoping that taking the twins on a road trip for the week leading up to taking them to their university would help bring us all closer.

Well, it wasn't really Ethan we needed closer. He was a good kid and kept to himself, following the rules and keeping his sister in check whenever he could. Sometimes I felt bad for him because our attention was mostly on Carly, making sure she wasn't getting herself into any trouble. Some days, it felt like I didn't even know my own son anymore. He'd grown up into a man right under my roof and I felt like I missed it!

"We'll wait till we find a good restaurant," Bob declared, his tone final. Carly made a disgruntled noise and looked out the window.

I squirmed in my son's lap, trying to get comfortable. Having both of their belongings shoved into the car hadn't been my best idea, but I didn't want to make the road trip adventure just to have to back track home to get their stuff before driving all the way back up to school.

No, we were doing this efficiently! Even if it meant having to relinquish the passenger seat to my whiny daughter and fold myself into the back row of seats on my eighteen year old son's lap.

Ethan's big, warm hands grabbed my hips, halting my movements. "Uh...how long do you think it'll take?" he asked.

"Not sure. If you see a sign for a restaurant, say something and we'll pull off."

"Okay." Ethan mumbled.

"I need to move," I told him, swatting at his hands. "I'm getting uncomfortable."

"Me too," he whispered, more to himself than me.

He let me go and I squirmed a bit more, trying to find a comfortable position. It was our fourth hour in the car like this with only one quick bathroom break. Although Ethan was warm, his hard and muscled body was getting to be uncomfortable to sit on.

The two seats in front of us were piled high with boxes and couldn't be moved forward, leaving little room for my 6'1" son's long legs. Because of this, his legs were bent right in front of him and I had to face forward, spread my legs, and straddle his legs. The boxes on the seat to our right and on the floor to the right of our feet made it impossible to switch up positions, so all I could do was squirm.

"Okay, seriously, Mom?" he hissed, grabbing my wide hips again.

"What?" It was then I felt it. Between the hard muscles of his thighs was something else. Something even harder. "Is that what I think it is?" I whispered harshly, accusingly.

"I can't help it," he murmured sheepishly. His breath puffed out against my neck, sending shivers up my spine. "You keep moving...and you're really soft..."

"What are you listening to?" I asked, yanking out one of his earbuds and hoping to change the subject or distract him. When I popped it in my ear, I gasped at the vulgar lyrics. "Well, no wonder you're so...so..."

"Hard?"

I blushed, smacking the side of his leg that was under mine. "Don't say that!"

"What? It's true." His hands tightened on my hips and he gave them a little pull, pulling my round, firm ass tighter against the cock hardening in his jeans.

A moment ago he was nervous, where did this bravado come from? Maybe it was the man in him sensing the womanly needs in me, mother or not.

"Ethan, stop it right now." I warned, my voice breathy and needy even to my own ears.

I was ashamed that I wasn't fighting him harder, being louder about my rejection so that maybe his father would get involved. But a little part of me-namely, my clit-didn't want him to stop. I wanted to see how far he was willing to ride this-pun intended.

It was so hot today that I had stupidly worn a thin dress. The fabric did nothing to shield my panty-clad pussy from the hardness of his young cock between my cheeks. Ethan made little grunting sounds as his hands on my hips ground my ass against his lap.

"Fuck, Mom!" he whispered in my ear.

"Watch your mouth," I scolded, pinching his wrist. It was hard to be stern with him when my breasts felt heavy and heat was pooling in my womb-the exact place he once came out of.

I felt something warm and wet against the shell of my ear-his tongue! I jerked my head away, hissing, "Don't do that! Your father and Carly can see!"

He scoffed. "They're not looking."

"If they do..."

"What? All they'll see is you blushing. They'll see you looking ahead. They'll see me looking down, thinking it's at my phone."

His hands started trailing up my sides, dragging my dress up with it until it bunched at my waist. To my horror, my hips kept up the slow, circular grind against his cock without his forced guidance. My creamy thighs and white cotton panties were on display for his hungry eyes to see.

Ethan went on, "But really, I'll be looking down at your tits."

With that, he pulled the cups of my yellow dress and bra down so that my full breasts could spill out. I let out a soft gasp as the air conditioning hit my already hard and sensitive nipples. It horrified me how sexually aggressive and presumptuous my son was being towards me-his own mother! But what horrified me even more was that I liked it. Not only did I like it, I was wet and wanting more of his attention. Lord knows Bob hadn't given me any lately.

"Just keep looking forward," Ethan ordered softly, his fingers tweaking my little pink nubs. "Do you like your nipples played with?"

"Yes," I whispered, switching my grind to a slow rock. I pressed down and dragged the cotton covered lips of my pussy over the long, hard ridge of his jean covered dick. The friction of our clothing made it burn even sweeter. "It makes me feel dirty," I admitted.

"You are dirty, dry humping your own son." He gave my nipples one final tug, one that was so hard it had me moaning.

"You okay back there?" Bob asked, lowering the music and flicking his concerned gaze to me in the mirror.

"Yes!" I exclaimed, my voice a little too high. My face looked flushed in the mirror, so I used that to my advantage. "Just a little hot back here. Could you turn up the air? I think some of the boxes are blocking the vents."

"Yeah," Ethan agreed. "Mom runs hot, too." Bob chuckled at that, completely oblivious to the double meaning, and turned up the air.

"What would you do if Dad caught us?" Ethan asked. He rubbed his hands over my taunt belly, the same one he'd grown in. "Would you apologize for being a dirty whore?"

"Hey..." I scolded, no real offense in my tone. My hands circled his wrists, holding him firmly, but I didn't stop his downward motion.

"What? You aren't a whore?" He slid his hand under my panties, his fingers skimming over my shaved mound. When his long, thick fingers spread my pussy lips, he was met with my embarrassing wetness. "Then why are you so wet?"

"I can't..." I trailed off as he started rubbing slow and hard circles on my clit. "I can't help it."

His fingers played with me for a little while, my hips rotating and grinding against him slowly and discretely as he did. That hard cock pressing against my ass and his fingers feverishly circling my clit had me biting my lip to keep my orgasm at bay.

Ever so often, as my son molested my willing and aching body, my husband would glance at me in the rearview mirror. A couple times, his brows would be drawn down tight, but I assumed it was either from deep concentration on the road or discomfort from driving so long. Each time we made eye contact, I sent him a hesitant but tender smile of reassurance. He didn't suspect a thing.

Ethan's fingers slid down through my labia and dipped into my entrance, making me gasp and rock forward. He made a tsk-ing sound in my ear, grazing his nose along the slope of my neck.

"Not so fast, Mom." He took his fingers out of my pussy, making me stifle a whimper, and then removed his hand from my panties altogether. "If you wanna cum, you're gonna have to do it on my cock."

I gasped softly, my entire body flushing. "Where in the hell did you learn to talk like that?"

He shrugged. "The guys on the team." Ah, his football buddies.

"Well, I'm your mother. You can't talk to me like that."

"You're not my mom right now."

He grabbed my panties and slid them down my thighs, letting them rest around my knees. Ethan reached between my legs with one hand, pulling me tight against his chest with the other.

"Unless you wanna be," he whispered against my ear. "Unless that makes you even hotter. Knowing that you're wet for your son. That you made your son's dick hard."

"Please, stop!" I cried quietly.

I was so turned on-too turned on-and by my son of all people! Sure, it had been a while...a long while...since Bob had given me an orgasm (not for his lack of trying), but how hot I was feeling for my own son was disgusting. I was seriously considering letting him fuck me, and hoping he wouldn't give me the choice so I wouldn't have to feel guilty about it later.

The Katy Perry song blasting on the radio tuned out the subtle sound of his zipper sliding down. I gasped and held my breath. Was he really about to do this?

"Come on, Mom. Just admit it. You want your son's cum to fill your pretty pussy."

"Ethan, we can't-"

He cut me off by pulling my hips up so I hovered over his lap. He let out a relaxed sigh, "Ah, that's better."

"Everything okay back there?" Bob asked, eyeing me in the mirror.

My eyes widened in horror. If I had been higher up by one more inch, he would have been able to see that my breasts were exposed while I was sitting on our son's lap. That would have been fun to explain.

"Yes!" I exclaimed, my voice cracking. "Everything's fine! Just getting comfortable..."

"Yeah, Mom's just trying to find a better position. Here," he grabbed my hips and started lowering me down on his eight inches of throbbing cock, "Let me help you."

As I slid down, his enflamed mushroom head spreading my pussy lips, I maintained eye contact with my husband. He glanced away every few seconds to check the road, but he kept watching me. Even though I knew he couldn't see anything or hear any of our dirty whispers, in that moment, I swore he knew.

"Daddy!" Carly whined, complaining about something or other from the front seat. His attention was stolen away from me, and for the first time in years, I was grateful.

As I sank down on my son's cock, I couldn't help but let my head fall back on his broad shoulder and close my eyes. Everything felt on fire inside me as he thrust up, pushing in as far as he could go. Once I was fully impaled on his cock, my already sensitive pussy walls spasming, he tugged on my nipples in approval.

"There," he said at normal volume, "Is that better, Mom?"

Picking up my head, I opened my eyes and nodded. "Yes, that's perfect."

"Good. I don't mind if you move around. Wouldn't want you to get a blood clot or something," he joked, lifting my hips up a few inches before oh so slowly easing me back down.

I shivered, my pussy clenching and contracting. "T-thank you. I h-hope I'm not t-too heavy."

"Oh, no." He worked my pussy up and down his steel rod like he was a professional at it. "You feel fine. You're nice and soft." To prove his point, one of his hands cupped my breast, kneading the heavy flesh.

I chuckled when really, all I wanted to do was scream in pleasure. Part of me wanted to move, thrust, or something...but the bigger part of me liked letting him lead and take control of my body to please him. To please us both, in the end.

So I let him work me, dragging my ass back as he lifted me up before slamming me down again. I wasn't actively participating, but I wasn't stopping this from happening either.

His warm breath tickled my ear as he whispered, "Are you close, Mom?"

"Don't call me that!" I hissed even as a new gush of heat flooded my pussy.

The sounds of our fluids mixing together-his pre-cum and my arousal-created a wet slurping sound, but the music and constant burst of the air conditioning drowned it out.

"But you're my mom," he protested teasingly.

"Not right now."

"What are you, then?"

Biting my lip, I whispered back, "I'm your whore."

He nipped my neck, making me squeak in surprise. "Why can't you be both?"

Ethan reached down and started rubbing at my throbbing clit again, causing me to lean forward as an intense wave of pleasure hit me.

"Dad's so lucky to have you," he grunted, thrusting up into me to meet my downward pussy dive. "Fuck, Mom! If I had a whore like you in my bed every night, you wouldn't ever leave the house."

My mouth opened on a silent scream as the ridge of his cock scraped against my G-spot, pushing me closer and closer to the edge. My heavy breasts swayed as he pushed into me, rocking me forward with every determined thrust.

"Please..." I gasped as he rammed into me, his tip touching my cervix. "Don't..."

"Don't what?" He squeezed my ass cheeks painfully, the sting making my pussy heat. "Don't tell you how hot you make me. How I jerk off at night picturing you sucking me off? How I sometimes listen to you and Dad fuck and wish I was the one giving it to you?"

"Oh, God!"

I grabbed the back of the seat in front of me, bowing my head so that if my husband looked in the mirror, he would only see Ethan staring down at "something" with his brows drawn down and his bottom lip bit in concentration.

"Fuck me," he growled low. "If you wanna cum, you're gonna have to work for it, Mom. Fuck me. Milk me for all I've got. Work that pussy on your son's cock. Come on!"

I did as he said, lifting my ass all the way up to the tip of his cock before slamming back down. The sounds of our fucking grew louder, but I didn't care. I was too lost in the sensations to give a damn if anyone figured it out.

When I felt his thumb pushing and probing at my asshole, I snarled, "Oh no you don't, young man. Don't even think about it!"

He just chuckled, the sound sending sweet vibrations through me. "Not yet...but soon."

"Soon?" I asked, sweat beading across my brow. "This is never going to happen again," I panted softly, swallowing up my own moan. "This...is...a one time...thing."

"Sure it is, Mom." Ethan's fingers dug into my hips, adding more strength and power to my pussy as I drove it down on his cock over and over again. He thrust into me, his movements jagged and ravenous as he neared his own orgasm.

"Touch yourself," he ordered softly. "I'm not cumming alone."

I let go of the seat with one hand, pinching my nipples as I made my way down to my pussy Turning my head sideways, I bit into my bicep as I stroked my clit hard and fast as my own son plowed into me even harder and faster...just how I liked it. Just how I needed it.

"Come on, baby," I pleaded desperately, no fucks given. My fingers left my clit for just a moment to reach down between us and knead his balls, making them tighten in my palm.

I don't know what came over me! I needed to orgasm, the pain of pleasure being so close yet so far away was killing me. I would have done anything, anything! And I guess I did, since I was fucking my own son.

"Give Mommy your cum, baby," I whispered in a deep, sultry voice that I reserved for date nights with my husband. "I want you to fill me up with it! Come on, sweetheart, haven't you always wanted to cum in mommy? Nows your only chance. Fuck me!"

"Fuuuuuck!" he grunted, giving three hard thrusts that rocked me forward into the seat. He groaned loud and long, unable to control himself as the most powerful orgasm of his life knocked the wind out of him.

"Ethan, you okay back there?" Bob asked, obviously concerned.

"He's probably just hungry, Daddy." Carly said in that annoying as fuck baby voice she always used to get her way. "I'm hungry too..."

"I know, sweetie. I'll feed you soon, don't worry."

With my son's cock inside me spurting jets of white hot semen into my womb, their exchange sounded a lot more sexual than it really as. Hell, if anything, that added to the taboo pleasure coursing through me.

I was close behind Ethan's orgasm, my own fingers sending me over the edge. The fullness of his hard cock slamming into me savagely as my son rang every last drop of pleasure from my body was enough to send me into a second orgasm. My pussy convulsed around him, doing exactly what he'd ordered me to do, milking his cock and greedily pulling his cum as high up in my pussy as it would go.

When we finally calmed down and the pulsating wooshing sound left my ears, I heard Bob ask, "Just saw a sign for an Olive Garden at the next exit. Want to grab dinner there before going to the hotel?"

"Sure," Ethan panted, reaching between us to slide his finger over my slick labia. "All this riding made me really hungry." He stuck his finger in his mouth, licking it clean.

"Me too," Carly said with a wistful sigh.

"I could use a glass of wine." I mused, sitting up straight and smiling bashfully at Bob in the mirror.

My husband winked at me. "Olive Garden it is, then."

In my ear, Ethan whispered, "This isn't over yet, Mom."

I stiffened, the erotic excitement draining out of me as the aftershocks of my orgasm faded. Reality seeped in and horror hit me as I realized I was sitting on my son's lap with his softening cock and cum inside me.

"This is most definitely over, young man, and it will never happen again." I snapped, pulling my dress back up to cover my breasts.

Ethan just chuckled. "Okay. Whatever you say."

To be continued...