I-40

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harding
harding
2,225 Followers

Do it, I thought, jack me off, please jack me off! I wanted her to touch me so much I almost grabbed her hand myself and put it around me.

She sighed, withdrew her hand and rolled away from me. I was desperate to grip myself and cum, desperate to shoot a huge load onto my belly, but instead I rolled onto my side away from her. The clock read twelve-thirty and I knew I had to get some sleep for the drive tomorrow. We were not even half way across America and needed to make faster progress. Definitely needed to make faster progress if I wasn't going to end up fucking my own mother.

When I opened my eyes it was three-forty-five and the orange neon glow had been replaced by the gray of dawn. I rolled over to find Mom gone, lay on my back and heard the shower running. I'd take another one as well before we left, might even risk being caught. If I didn't jack off soon I felt my head might just collapse from all the blood rushing to my cock.

The shower stopped. I heard Mom peeing. She didn't flush, perhaps not wanting to wake me. The bathroom door opened and she stepped through, naked apart from a towel wrapped around her head. My eyes were lidded -- I was becoming an expert at spying on Mom now -- as I watched her pad to the dresser, sit and pull the towel from her head. She combed her hair, shook it. A dryer sat in a holder to one side of the dresser but I guess she didn't want to disturb me.

I mumbled and rolled over.

Mom looked over her shoulder at me, the sight breaking my heart, her long slim back with a dip along her spine tapering out above her round ass flattened on the chair, the profile of a pendulous breast tipped with a sweet pink nipple, the tautness of the skin along her side.

I washed a hand across my face and sat up. Mom made no move to cover herself.

"What's the time, Joe?" she asked. "I can't work that damn clock out at all."

I rolled my head, added three and a half and said, "God, it's eight-thirty. We should be on the road by now."

"There's no rush," she said. "I don't mind if this trip lasts for ever. I'm loving every single moment."

I smiled, staring into her eyes. "Me too. Did you sleep well?"

"Like a log. You? You seemed out every time I looked."

"Crashed soundly," I said, hoping she'd believe the lie.

"Good." Her smile took on what seemed a sad edge. "You want a shower?"

"You want to get dressed first?"

She looked down at herself as if only now realizing she was sitting bare-ass naked in front of her nineteen year old son.

"Shocked?" she asked.

"Guess not," I said.

"Good. That's how it's meant to be between us."

It is?

"Go get your shower and I'll get dressed. We can call in the super-mart next to the interstate and get food for today.

Despite our good intentions, Mom's usual lack of urgency meant it was gone ten before we checked out and hit the interstate. I drove while Mom put her feet up and leaned back, her window wound down allowing a warm breeze to blow through her hair. She looked happy and radiant, at complete ease with the world.

I'd been hoping to get six or seven hundred miles covered before we stopped, but Mom's clunky old Town and Country had other ideas. I drove at a steady sixty because every time I tried to ease the speed higher the front wheels started to shimmy like a belly dancer's hips and it was all I could do to stay on the road. When Mom drove she kept to fifty-five, still remembering the old speed limits.

Somewhere still east of Oklahoma city the engine started making odd clunking sounds and every now and then the sound became a grating.

"That doesn't sound good," I said.

"You know anything about cars?"

"A bit. Hank liked to teach me, remember?"

"I guess he was good for something then." The bitterness remained in her voice. "You'll have been a good student too."

"He didn't allow for any other kind." I remembered him yelling whenever I got anything wrong. He'd been a hard, cruel man, but had instilled into me how an engine worked. Pulling apart cars was the only time I ever saw him content. "Get the map out, let's see where we are." We hadn't needed it much so far, following I-40 all the way across. The plan was to follow the interstate all the way to Los Angeles before cutting south to San Diego.

Mom unfolded the map, winding her window up as it fluttered and creased.

"Where was the last place we passed?" she asked.

"There was a sign for Okemah at the last exit."

Mom traced her finger across the map, tongue sticking out a little, and in spite of worrying about the car I knew I was falling in love with her in a completely different way to how I already loved her, knew I was in danger of making a total fool out of myself.

"Have we only come that far, Joe? I thought we'd be half way there by now."

"We've been going slow," I said. "Besides, you told me this morning when you were sitting stark naked you wanted the trip to take forever."

"Girl's prerogative to change her mind," Mom said.

"Is Aunt Sarah expecting us any particular time?"

Mom shook her head. "I said I'd call when we were close. She's got nothing planned. What day is it today?"

"Uh... Tuesday, I think." It had been as if we existed within a bubble since leaving Wilmington, one day merging with the next.

"It would be nice to get there for the weekend."

"Sure." I tried not to smile. The car gave another loud clunk.

"That really doesn't sound good. Got it, we're here." She peered at the map. "How long since we passed that last exit?"

"Five minutes, no more."

"We're coming up on a place called Shawnee -- ain't that romantic sounding, Joe? Let's pull off there and see what the damage is."

The clunking came again and I felt the steering jerk in my hands.

"We need a breaker's yard. This feels terminal."

"You can't sell my car!"

I laughed. "I don't plan to. They'll have a steering rod. I think that's what's working loose. We won't be able to afford a garage or a new unit, but a breakers might have one."

We only just made it. Turning off the interstate and onto county roads made the banging worse, and turning left and right became problematic, so much so that eventually I could only turn right. Mom shouted and pointed off to the side where a sign said Pete's Car Breakers, a pile of old vehicles stacked ten high behind a wire fence. It lay on the left hand side of the road, of course. I drove past, turned right at the next junction, then right and right again until we managed to pull up in front of a wooden office. The mandatory mad dog barked wildly as I climbed out and a whip-thin man in overalls and an incongruous Ferrari peaked cap came out. Long greasy hair was caught back in a ponytail.

"Hush now, Bart," he said to the dog, the barking instantly stilled, then, "He'p you?" to me.

"I'm looking for a steering rod. I think the front left's about to throw."

The man walked around the car, nodded at Mom sitting inside, her arm through the open window.

"Chrysler Town and Country," he said, nodding. "Seventy-three to seventy-eight, this model. But the rods fitted from seventy-one to eight-four as I recall. I think we got a couple of these beauties in back somewhere. You'll have to take the rod off yourself if'n you don't wanna pay me to do the job."

"Money's pretty tight," I said.

He nodded. "Figured that. Fine old car though. Had one just like her myself. Till she threw a rod." He cackled. I liked him. "Lemme take you through back, see if we can't find one of these babies. Your missus can sit inside if she wants. There's coke in the cooler. On the house, long as she don't drink me dry."

"She's-" I started to say she's not my wife and stopped. I guess I looked older than nineteen, and Mom sure looked younger than thirty-five. "What about the dog?"

"Bart won't do no harm now he knows you're friends. Just don't try to pet him none."

Mom climbed out and gave the dog a wide berth, went inside, came out a moment later with a bottle of coke and sat on the step.

The man led me off down a narrow alley between stacked cars. Most of them were old, but mixed in were a few modern cars that had been in accidents.

"I'm Joe, by the way," I said, offering my hand.

The man looked down at it, turned his over, showing the oil stains on it. "I'm Pete, but you might not wanna shake."

I took his hand anyway. "Way I figure, I'm gonna get messy in a minute anyway."

Pete laughed and nodded. "Guess so."

We found three Chrysler Town and Countries. The first had lost most of its front end in a head on collision, but the other two were fine. One was a seventy-three, the other an eighty-two, but as Pete said the running gear was the same.

"You might wanna replace both units. Often you change one it puts a strain on the other."

"How much?" I asked.

"You doin' the work yourself?"

I nodded.

"You know how?"

I nodded again.

Pete rubbed the two day stubble on his cheeks. "Where you folks headed?"

"San Diego. My-" I stopped myself again. "We're going to stay with Kate's sister." It felt odd calling Mom by her name, but something didn't want me to let on we were mother and son.

"Got a fair ways to cover yet then. How's forty bucks sound, for both rods? Make it fifty and I'll let you use my lift and tools."

Fifty dollars was a big slice of our money, but the alternative was even more expensive buses or trains, and we had no chance of carrying all Mom's stuff on a bus. Besides, I still had well over half my ill-gotten gains from Memphis.

I put my hand out again and we shook on it. I could always do some more busking along the way.

Pete took me back and showed me where the tools were, came back around with a crane on wheels and lifted the Chrysler clear of the others.

"You want her belly up, son?" He didn't wait for my answer, expertly flicking the rusty station wagon onto its roof so I could get at the steering rods more easily. I set to getting them off. Some of the bolts were rusted on pretty hard, but Pete's toolkit contained WD 40 and oilcans and some hefty wrenches and an hour later I had two good steering rods. I carried them back to the hut where Pete had brought a couple of plastic chairs out and sat talking with Mom. The dog sat at his feet and he scratched its ear, the dog's back leg lifting in spasm as Pete found a particular spot. I was dirty and sweating and Mom gave me a sympathetic look. Pete went inside and brought me a coke and I drank it before using the jack to lift the front of Mom's car. It took another hour to get the steering rods off, one more before I had the new ones installed, greased up and tightened. By now the afternoon was bleeding away, color touching the western clouds.

I started the car up and drove out the yard, gunned her up the road and took a hard left, the soft suspension complaining and the tires squealing. The steering felt fine, better than it had for years. I took a couple more turns, left and right, pleased with how the old car felt. I pulled into the breaker's yard and handed Pete fifty bucks. He stared at it, nodded, slipped it into his coverall pocket.

"You two need a place to stay tonight? There's a cheap motel past mile 200."

"We're gonna sleep in the car," I said.

"Savin' your cash. Good thinking. In that case, come off at the junction after next and hang a right. There's a big old lake that way. You'll find somewhere quiet to bed down around there." He stuck his hand out, now cleaner than mine. "Good luck to you both. Makes a man feel good to see a couple'a young uns so obviously mad in love. Takes me back some, does that." He dipped inside the hut, came back out with a tube of hand degreaser. "Also on the house. Take care now."

I shook his hand again and Mom kissed him on his stubbled cheek and he flushed bright red. He was still standing outside waving as we turned out the yard and returned to the interstate.

We'd gone six or seven miles when Mom laughed and leaned over, gave me a big wet kiss on the side of my mouth.

"What was that for?"

"Well, as we're so obviously mad in love, I thought my clever mechanic husband deserved a big kiss."

We had a little trouble locating the lake. It was down a narrow track through trees which brushed the sides of the station wagon, but eventually we pulled into a clearing right on the lakeshore. The smell of pine and loam greeted us.

There was still light in the sky, though the sun was low behind the tall pines. Mom climbed out and opened the tailgate, one side hinging up, the other lying flat. She rummaged through the boxes and came back holding a bar of soap at arm's length.

I laughed and took it off her. "Do I smell that bad, Mom?"

"You smell wonderful, you always do, but no way am I sleeping next to you covered in grease."

I took the soap and waited for her to turn her back. She wandered over to a big boulder and perched herself down, crossed her ankles. This was sure turning out to be one hell of a trip. I stripped my t-shirt off, unbuttoned my jeans and tugged them down. My cock had deflated during the day, but stripping in front of Mom was starting to affect me once more. Too late to chicken out now. I sat on the tailgate and pulled my socks off, stood and slipped my shorts down fast and walked to the water, not looking in her direction, but I knew she was watching, her eyes burning my skin wherever her gaze fell.

The water was cold, but not too cold, and I was grateful because once it came to my waist the chill caused my cock to shrink. I ducked under the surface, came up and flicked water from my hair. It needed cutting I knew, but it never seemed high on my list of priorities. The soap was some scented thing Mom had a dozen bars of in one of the boxes. I washed myself all over, scrubbed at my arms and forearms but the oil was stubborn and I needed hot water to shift it. Mom would just have to keep her distance. Except, as ever, I knew she wouldn't.

I ducked under, rinsing my hair, and when I came up I heard a splash, turned to see her stroking toward me, a smile on her pretty face.

"Are you clean?" she said, stopping and putting her feet down. She stayed with her knees bent because the water only came to her chin while it was just above my waist. Mom was obviously trying to protect her modesty. Maybe. The clear lake-water didn't hide much, and her breasts floated high, waveringly visible.

"Can't get all the oil off," I said, showing her my hands.

"Want me to give you a scrub, like I used to when you were small?"

"I'm not so small any longer."

Her smile lifted on one side. "I kinda noticed that," she said. "Here, gimme the soap, I might as well freshen up as well."

I held the bar out to her and she took it, her fingers wet and cold. Before I could move or turn away she stood up, water cascading over her breasts, and started soaping herself.

"See if you can find the janitor, Joe, get him to turn the heat up. I'm not coming back to this hotel again."

I swam off, stroking hard out into the lake, trying to work off some energy, trying not to think about the way her breasts had looked, stippled with gooseflesh, the nipples peaked and tempting. I rolled onto my back and drifted, staring up as the sky lost color and the brighter stars came out, Venus low in the west hanging above the trees that came down to the lakeshore. My cock flopped just above the water, not as hard as when Mom was standing next to me, not as soft as I wanted it to be. I was far enough away I felt safe lying this way. Mom was a distant shape near the shore, still soaping herself. She had moved into the shallows and when I squeezed my eyes I could make out her washing between her legs. Jeez, I wasn't the only one needed to get a grip. Did she have any idea what she was doing to me?

I waited for Mom to return to the car, gave her five minutes then rolled over and swam back. Walking from the water the air was warm against my skin after the cold lake. The cicadas still sang but there were fewer now than when we started. The sky was dark, the car and Mom's figure sitting on her rock mere shadows. She stood and tossed me a towel. I grabbed it one handed and dried myself.

"This is nice," she said, and when I glanced over my eyes had adjusted more and I realized she was still naked. I could almost make out her pussy in the shadowed valley between her thighs, could make out the pale mounds of her breasts. "Too nice to get dressed yet. It's been so hot in the car, it feels good to sit out here this way. You don't mind do you, Joe."

"What, hanging out with a good looking naked broad?"

"Yeah, that."

"What's to mind? Not as if there's anyone within a mile can see us."

Dry, the air pressed against my body, warm as a lover's kiss, and I knew my cock was lengthening, wasn't sure Mom could see anything or not. Her boulder sat in the shade of the trees, but out in the clearing a crescent moon cast enough light to show me. Reflected light caught in Mom's eyes and I saw her scanning my body, appraising her son.

"I can see you," I said, "even if no-one else can."

"I don't mind you looking. You can look all you like. Sorry I'm not a bit younger and firmer like the college girls you must know."

"You're beautiful, Mom. Don't pretend you're not."

She laughed, waved her hand. "You're biased. I know what I am."

"Yeah. Gorgeous." I didn't know what I was doing, flirting with my own Mom like she was some sophomore I wanted to get the panties off. I smiled to myself. I'd already gotten her panties off!

I walked across the clearing and sat on the edge on the lowered tailgate. Twenty feet away Mom rose from the boulder and rubbed her ass with both hands.

"That's not as comfortable as it looks."

I laughed. "It's a rock, Mom, what did you expect?"

"Shit, I could go a nice soft chair right now." Mom never used to cuss much around me when I was growing up, but I'd noticed since we started our trip her language had become coarser. It didn't bother me, but it did sound strange in my ears.

Mom stretched her arms high above her head, arching her back as though deliberately displaying for me, the white moonlight etching her in monochrome, the smooth area at the junction of her thighs still a little scary when I thought she might have shaved her pussy especially for me. I couldn't think of any other explanation. Unless it was something she did all the time. I realized although I knew a lot about Mom there was a whole new side to her I'd never seen that had emerged since we set out from Wilmington.

"This is fun," Mom said, walking around the clearing, picking her feet up and treading carefully. "Makes me feel wanton and abandoned, set free. People should get naked more often, Joe, it's liberating. You want to join me for a stroll?"

"Suppose we meet someone?"

She giggled. "Maybe they'll be naked too. If we do we can always hide in the trees. Besides, there's no-one within miles, you told me."

She was right. The night was silent, only the lapping of the lake and the cooling cicadas breaking the stillness. I rose and walked across to join her. My cock swung heavy between my legs but I wasn't going to attempt to hide anymore. I half expected to come to full attention again, but maybe I was getting used to the teasing because my body behaved itself for once.

Mom stepped off along the shoreline and I followed, watching her ass jiggle as she moved. She had a stupendous ass, round and full and firm, blooming from a nipped waist. We only walked a couple hundred yards, no more, sticking close to the lakeshore to avoid any hidden dangers. Mom was right, it did feel liberating to walk naked through the dark, warm air against our skin, nothing between us and nature.

Mom stopped and turned back, stared down at my cock and the side of her mouth twitched. She came back toward me. For a moment I thought she was going to keep right on coming, press herself against me, but at the last minute she slipped to one side, her feet splashing through the edge of the lake. She trailed her fingers along my side, the touch electric.

harding
harding
2,225 Followers