The Jumping-Off Point

Claire sighed internally.

"I see you're looking at this navy color. That's a great color that won't fade easily."

"I'm fine. My husband told me exactly what to look for. Thank you." Claire rolled her eyes at the associate as he walked away with slumped shoulders.

It's not an invitation to flirt with me. It doesn't suddenly make my wedding ring meaningless. Claire wasn't born yesterday. She doubted it was common for an attractive woman, with brushed hair, mascara, and lipgloss, to stroll down the aisle in a bright sundress that ended inches above the knee.

Originally, Claire was going to wear black athletic tights and a tight t-shirt, so she could work with Allen to lift materials. "Sexy and practical," Noah had said. But spending an hour bending over in front of her son and talking to him would have made her too paranoid, and sweaty.

Claire wanted today to be perfect. That meant she would look beautiful and have an alluring scent, not wreaking of sweat. It also meant, when it was time to sit down on Allen's lap, she would do so by gracefully and angelically floating. Her thin dress would cling to the shape of her booty as it met his thighs.

He's gonna look down and see it right in front of him. His eyes are gonna get all big. Then he'll- Claire wiped a tickle of perspiration from her hairline. She giggled to herself and perused other color samples. The rosiness of her cheeks would have paired excellently with "Tornado Season."

Looking back, she should have been prouder of herself when they were getting ready to leave this morning. "Are you going with us?" Allen asked curiously, noticing her in a coral-red dress and white low-tops. "Hmm? Oh, yeah, of course! I'm just picking out the paint, though. You didn't think I was gonna be lifting concrete with you?" Claire smiled. "Why do you think I told your dad to call in the extra muscle?" In a rarity, Allen blushed.

*****

A mirage of heat wavered over the black asphalt. Allen tugged his shirt to unstick it from his stomach. Claire noticed her son meticulously analyzing how the SUV was loaded. Please, don't let there be a mistake.

Noah did make mistakes. On purpose. Sometimes he and Allen would slide a piece of lumber in for Noah to shake his head and say, "Let's try in the other way." It had to look like his first time.

When they were done loading, Noah hi-fived Allen and walked off to return the orange cart to the front of the store.

"How's dad gonna see?" Allen peered into the SUV through the open tailgate.

Claire walked behind the car next to her son and puzzled. "Huh..." The lumber for the form of the concrete base was neatly laid down in the back. However, the plywood sheets for the walls were angled up against the back of the driver and passenger seats. The patchy wood even blocked the cabin from the rearview mirror. "I guess he'll just use the side mirrors and the backup cam. People drive that way all the time. Like, in vans and trucks."

Allen shrugged, then went to his seat the only way he could—by crawling over wooden beams and bags of concrete. The entire middle row of seats had been removed, and two of the rear seats had been folded down and buried beneath hundreds of pounds of material. So, Allen sat in the only available seat next to the window.

"Allen? Are you in there? ALLEN?!" Claire called out, her voice thick with desperation and worry.

"I think so. It's a fort," Allen joked back. He was encased in a small, weird room lined with tan lumber and silver fabric.

"Hmm! Well, let me know if you get hungry. I can send some food back to you in a basket."

Claire went around to the passenger door. She opened it, waited a moment, and then returned behind the tailgate. Allen's brow furrowed in confusion as he turned to see his mom noisily climbing over the lumber.

"You know those two-by-fours your dad had cut in half? The ones he 'set aside' to pack later? Guess where they are now..."

Claire was laughing at the comedic situation. But Allen was less humored. He searched for the other seats in the cabin. "Wait. But... So-"

"So..." Claire touched down with her sneakers in Allen's footwell. She had to squat on the rubber mat and stay hunched over, lest she bang her head on the ceiling. "...We're gonna need to share, bud."

"Bud" was always Claire's way of telling Allen, It is what it is and you have to accept it.

Allen's throat gulped. He frantically moved the lumber and concrete in his mind, reconfiguring the car to make another seat available. But he knew they weren't going to repack. "I can drive."

"With thousands of extra pounds in the car? On the highway?" Claire mothered. "Nuh-uh."

Sitting there, holding his phone over his legs, Allen could see what his mom was waiting for. "Umm..."

"Seriously?" She rolled her eyes. "Ya know, I remember once when I let you sit on my lap for an entiiiire boat ride in Disney World, and I never complained once."

"I was seven."

"This should be a relief for you, then. You finally get to pay me back."

Allen curled his lips and blushed. Claire laughed heartily and smiled at her son's eyes. She spun around. Allen barely had enough time to react and move his hands.

Claire plopped down. It wasn't exactly the "angelic float" she had been envisioning. But it did guarantee the only result that mattered: She was going to spend the ride home on Allen's lap.

While her striking legs, manicured nails, and cute cleavage were no longer visible, Claire was banking on the alluring scent of her long hair and the weight of her fatty butt on his thighs being enough to stir him.

"Everything okay?" She craned her neck to peek at her son's face. Her upbeat and relaxed demeanor hid her raging adrenaline and the shallowness of her breath.

"Yeah, I guess."

"You 'guess'? Is that your way of telling me I need to lose weight?"

"No," Allen sheepishly replied, not knowing the right way to answer.

That was when Noah's gate appeared through the side window. His aloofness looked forced and unnatural. He's nervous.

The front door opened with a pop. The reflections of the sunlight danced on the ceiling, but the driver was hidden. "Claire?"

"Back here," she giggled. "My seat was taken."

"Yeeeah... It is, isn't it? Ha! My mistake. Where's Allen?"

"Back here, getting crushed. I just asked him if he thought I was too heavy, and he paused!"

The husband's deep laugh boomed through the plywood boards. "Allen, is that true?"

"No. I didn't pause. She's not heavy."

"Wow, you really know to make your mother melt," Claire scoffed and teasingly elbowed him.

"No, I meant-"

"You gonna alright back there, Al? I can bungee tie you to the roof if not."

"I'm good."

"You sure?"

"Yeah."

"Alllright." Noah exhaled. "Good man! Next time, you pack. You're the one who's good at Tetris."

The car beeped, the engine hummed, and the wheels rolled into motion. Noah knew the point of all of this was to give his wife the chance to "accidentally" slide back onto their son's dick until it got hard. But this was the heaviest load he had ever driven with, and he wasn't going to risk a fiery wreck to make it happen.

As the crimson SUV cruised to the end of the parking lot, Claire reached up. "Almost forgot." She pulled the seatbelt buckle over her. Understandably, she had to scoot higher onto Allen's lap to get the waist strap around them both.

Claire buzzed. Her butt was on softer flesh, no longer on his boney knees. Allen was unmoved.

The first minute of the trip was on local, low-speed roads. Claire sat uneventfully on her son's sturdy legs and listened to the classic rock playing over the radio.

Where's the highway? The waiting and anticipation were unbearable. Already, she was dialed-in to the faint steadiness of his breath as she rose and fell slightly with each inhale and exhale. Her smooth calves bristled against his hairy shins.

Feeling her thighs on his hard knee caps, Claire was even more electrified from knowing her son was getting an eyeful of her ass. The time would come, Claire. Just let him enjoy the view for a while longer, she smirked.

Tick tick tick tick tick!

The turn signal clicked, and Claire recognized the scenery out the window. They were headed onto the highway. The engine revved, and the car lurched.

Claire quickly decided to let her body go limp. She slid back into Allen and reverberated with him off of his seatback. She then straightened her spine against his chest, and she felt his angular shin poking into her shoulder blade.

Behind her, Allen revoltingly smacked his lips, pushing his mom's lilac-scented hair out of his mouth. He hated having a face full of his mom's hair. It could annoy him for the entire ride. Fortunately, his mom leaned forward as she sat up. But her hips remained in place.

"You're not quite as cushy as foam," Claire complained.

"Sorry," Allen breathed.

"Haha!"

Allen shook his head. He couldn't see the mesh athletic shorts his dad suggested he wear to work in the heat. All he could see was red polyester. The floral fabric stretched over his mom's butt tightly enough where each cheek was defined, like two squishy orbs. His mom's narrower waist met his black, cotton t-shirt.

Eighteen years. And this was the most uncanny event of Allen's life. His mind was blown. He found himself as "the son" in the most thrilling erotica plotlines he had ever discovered. How many sons around the world would kill to be in his position? Allen wondered.

Ending up in this scenario seemed improbable—impossible. Yet, here he was. He was sure the other sons who loved the same stories would be begging and cajoling him to make a move, or they'd pray he got caught pitching a tent.

But Allen had to disappoint them. He had no plans on making a move. And there wouldn't be a tent for his mom to catch him pitching.

Claire fiddled with the hem of her dress as a way to justify slight shifts in her son's lap. No matter how she distributed her weight—even when she let one of her cheeks sink between the gap in his legs—nothing changed.

She felt... nothing.

Okay, breathe! He didn't cut it off. It didn't fucking disappear! Claire had plans for if she couldn't feel his erection. She didn't have plans for if she couldn't feel his dick. Panic crept in, and she feared all this effort was wasted. After all that, I'm not even gonna get-

Quietly, and to herself, Claire's dark-pink lips stretched across her face, forming a biting smile. Oh, you clever little- She looked out the window and twisted mildly to confirm her suspicion. How could she have not realized it? Probably because she was coursing with adrenaline and never imagined it possible.

She now knew. And that made her feel in control. Suddenly, she was willing to be patient again. You're fine, hehe! Noah will give you the chances he promised.

Claire distracted herself by watching the cars pass them through the left window. It was possible an eagle-eyed passenger could see into the tinted window. Hopefully it won't be anybody we know.

Suddenly, the car jolted. Claire's left foot flew off of the ground and her right shoulder careened into the glass window. Jesus Christ, Noah! Just as she regained her seat in her son's lap, she was rocked to the left. The seatbelt retractor locking up was the only thing that prevented her from diving head-first into wooden beams. WHAT THE HELL?!

"Are you okay?" Allen asked. His dad obviously didn't realize how careful he needed to be when passing a semi-truck.

Claire returned to her seat and peeked behind her with relief. "Whew! Yeah, thank you. Are you?"

"Yeah."

"Good. And, you gotta scooch your legs wider, haha! Ya kinda can't sit like that with someone on your lap." Before her son could respond, Claire pulled herself up using the car pillar. She placed her feet between his, closed her eyes, and sat down.

But she didn't make it. Claire was stuck in mid-air. Her butt hung above Allen's muscular legs, which refused to pry open. Her knees remained wedged between his.

There was also another sensation. Firm points of pressure on her lower back. Her son's fingertips and palms pushed gently yet powerfully into her lower back. Holy shit... He's trying to keep you away.

Claire played ignorant. She corrected his mistake. "Oops! A little wider, bud." With her hands on his knees, she wrenched them apart.

Instantly, a soft thud sounded off of the fabric seat. Before Allen had a chance to pick his phone up and lay it over his groin again, Claire dropped her booty right onto his quads.

Allen's hands may have done a good job of safeguarding his groin, but what did that matter now? Claire wasn't just on—she was in his lap. And she could wait. She wasn't going anywhere. The only retrieval method for his phone was if Allen jammed his hand under her butt and went fishing. Sweetie, if you really want it, you're more than welcome to try... hehe!

Claire was on cloud nine. She knew what he had to be hiding. She had to be right. Her husband needed to sway the car one more time. She willed her son to move his hands. Allen, sweetie, if you have nothing to hide, take them off of me.

They passed semi-trucks repeatedly, but Claire no longer budged. With the stability of her legs between her son's, the lurching of the car did nothing.

Allen was focused on the growing heat between their bodies. His mom's bouncy butt cheeks molded on his quads, sealing off a pocket of air in the gap between his legs. The steamy warmth remained trapped, and it penetrated his mesh shorts, making his thighs and nutsack sticky.

"Woah!" A cautious voice alerted from the front. Noah hit the breaks.

Claire was hurled forward, and so was Allen. Before the car reached a full stop, they were accelerating again. Claire slammed back into her son. She froze.

Her son's hands were flattened on the small of her back. Claire's eyebrows were high on her forehead, and her mouth was dry. The swollen cockhead demanded her attention.

Claire's right ear was inches from Allen's mouth. She absorbed the shakiness and humidity of his breath. The road noise and rock music had faded away into the background. Only a palpable tension remained.

Trapped underneath her left butt cheek, the rubbery tip poked into her. She could feel the strain her son's erection exerted, as it was angled forward, trying to spring up to its natural state. The mother didn't feel vindicated or victorious. She numbed in a suspension of time. She forgot what she was supposed to say or do in response.

Allen was living an inescapable nightmare. He wanted to fall out of the car onto the highway. The worst part of this living hell was that it was caused by him experiencing a heavenly dream: His hard cock was primal contacting his mom's shapely, feminine ass. He felt the firm pressure and the heat on his tip. And he knew his mom had to feel everything, too.

He demanded his intelligent brain to invent an excuse—something that would somehow explain everything perfectly. But his mom far from dumb. Still, she didn't move. She wasn't speaking. And it became clearer to Allen that she was waiting on him to solve the embarrassing problem.

With a sad crack in his voice, Allen bit the bullet. "My phone's under you. Can I get it?"

Rather than silently stand up, Claire turned back and whispered, "You're okay. It happens." She shrugged. "Honestly—better this than a metal phone." Allen's marbled-blue eyes shot open. Claire felt a rush from her success. She added with a light smirk, "If you want, we can just say it's morning wood."

Allen blinked incredulously. His mom was a modern and understanding woman. Even after her jokes about him checking her out in her bikini, though, he didn't expect her to be this modern and understanding.

"Like, do you want me to stand up real quick so you can adjust things?"

Allen dryly nodded.

So, Claire pulled on the pillar again and waited over his lap. Her shaking hand barely held. "Done?"

"Yuh."

With no frills, Claire plopped down with her ass against Allen's abdomen. She knew what would happen, but she was still shocked. Her eyes popped at the feeling of Allen's entire shaft climbing her inner right butt cheek. It was thick, tall, throbbing, and powerful. Holy. Shit.

Allen's heart was a jackhammer in his chest. He could barely think. He thought "straight up toward the belly button" was the most logical adjustment. He didn't think his mom was going to sit squarely against his body. He wanted to apologize for being stupid, but he didn't know how he was.

For what was the fourth or fifth time, the car slowed to a crawl before revving forward again. It jerked the construction materials and passengers alike. Claire stayed snug in Allen's lap.

The silence was making Claire nervous. "Do you think you're gonna go to the airfield today?"

"No," Allen whimpered. His strong legs were trembling and bouncing on the balls of his feet.

Oh my god, you're not in trouble! Even though she was going through her own emotional rollercoaster, she did what moms do best: She composed herself and focused on her child. "Hey, sweetie, you're okay. You can relax," she chuckled affectionately. "It doesn't bother me at all. I promise."

Allen swallowed audibly and wet his mouth. "No?"

"Of course not." Claire glanced over her shoulder. His ears were on fire. "Why would it bother me?"

"It's- It's- I'm not weird. I just- I tried putting my phone- "

Claire shook her head. "I know you're not weird. Well- You are, but only in good ways, haha. Sweetie, this happens to every guy all the time. I know it's different because I'm your mom, but—I don't know—I guess knowing you see me in that way is kinda cute. It's flattering."

The perspiration beaded on Allen's burning forehead. His brain fogged and swirled in disbelief. Did she not realize what was going on? This wasn't a sudden boner. He felt this way all the time!

Claire could feel her son's nerves through her own body, but she could also tell he now felt more secure and less panicked. As did she.

"We're getting off the highway soon," an announcement soon boomed. "Did anything move around back there?"

Claire moved to answer the coded question. But she paused.

"Did anything move around back there?!" Noah shouted again. "Yes? No? Not sure?"

With a pretend glance around the cabin, Claire dryly swallowed. Her loins pickled with warm uncertainty and excitement. "I'm not sure. I can't really tell."

The car slowed and sped up roughly, as it did before. Only the braking and accelerating became more frequent. Each time, the mother and son lunged forward and jolted back together, increasing the contact between their bodies and the kinetic energy of Claire's ass into Allen's erection.

Notes of her son's cedar deodorant and hard-earned sweat wafted into her nostrils. The sultriness of his breath warmed the side of her neck. And she was entranced by the way his strong quadriceps supported and stabilized her silky thighs. Claire was fully immersed in her son's emerging masculinity. Every one of her senses was intoxicated by his presence around her.

Her baby boy had grown into a man. And the irrefutable, well-defined proof of his manhood was pushing into the cartilage of her ass. It was like a bar of steel hotly demanding her attention, refusing to let her sit comfortably until she addressed it.

Allen was in heaven. He didn't know his mom's real thoughts on his "issue," but she said she didn't care. So, Allen let his guard down. He had to savor this miracle for every second it lasted. The muscles in his legs relaxed, resulting in his mom having that little bit of extra give to jiggle and slide on his cock as they hit small bumps or stopped quickly.

"It's stop-and-go, stop-and-go. See why I didn't want you driving?" Claire teased, wanting to hear the tone of his voice.