tagIncest/TabooTrucker Mom

Trucker Mom


Mom is a truck driver. I don't mean that literally, because all she ever drove was a used Honda Civic, but to hear her talk you could believe she was a teamster. That's because she worked for a construction company as a 'Gal Friday' for years. I guess you have to be tough to survive if you're the only female surrounded by the blue collar 'Bud Boys' all the time.

But mom could give as good as she got. More than a couple of the boys received a quick kick to the shin when they stepped over the line. One of the guys called her 'Juicy Joan,' but only once. Many days she seemed powered up on something when she went to work, but I never could tell if it was high energy, or from some 'Mother's little helper.'

I think she actually liked sparring with those guys. I could see it by the look on her face when she told me, "Bobby was staring at my 36's all day, so I finally told him, "You like these so much, why don't you buy your wife a pair?" She mimicked what she'd done by cupping her tits. She laughed and said, "He's probably home now still thinking of what he should have said."

She did have great 36's, made more prominent because she was fit and on the slim side. And therein lies the ignition to my story. I guess I eyed her body more than once when she wasn't looking, and by the time I was out of high school, I had admitted to myself that no matter how much our personalities clashed; I did find her physically attractive. It wasn't a big deal; I just accepted it as a fact of my life. I never expected to do anything about it, besides indulging in some occasional fantasies.

Even though we were each other's only relatives, Joan and I weren't close. I think we just got on each other's nerves. She never said anything about it, but I even got the feeling she preferred me calling her Joan rather than mom. There was nothing keeping me at home any more and I figured my best bet to get an education, and to get out of town at the same time, was to join the military. Joan thought it was as good an idea as any.

When the day came for me to leave, I was nervous and had a couple of beers, which is one more than I usually have. Mom was being a pain as usual and said with a bit of a manic laugh, "Hey Matthew, do you want me to bake you a cake before you go?" Since she'd never turned on the oven, I figured that was Joan just being Joan.

So my equally flip response was, "Naah...why don't you just show me your tits Joan?" It was just some backtalk probably coming from the second beer. Mom looked at me with an 'Oh yeah Mr. Wise-guy?' face and pulled up her sweatshirt and bra all in one motion. I was stunned.

She'd done some crazy things but this...? Since her arms were holding up the shirt, her tits jutted straight out. What a magnificent pair for a thirty-seven year old to have. What a magnificent pair for a twenty-seven year old to have. I said 'Whoa' and she still stood there. Those boobs were an invitation that started my chest thumping. Instinctively I reached for them, and as I touched the silky skin, she pulled the sweatshirt down and said, "Uh uh. You just asked to see 'em, not to feel 'em." She laughed that crazy laugh again and said, "Get ready young Casanova, it's time I took you to the airport."

I got ready even though I knew we had plenty of time. It was a cold and bleak New England evening with a matching threatening sky. As we drove the empty rural road, I couldn't stop thinking about my mother's tits. When she took a turn into an unpaved lane I said, "Joan, where the hell are you going?"

She pulled over and said, "Matthew, I'm going to give you something to remember me by." She got out of the driver's seat and came around to the passenger side. She said, "Whenever you want me to stop, just say so." She put her hand on my cock and rubbed. I didn't tell her to stop. I don't know if I was more stunned or turned on. She unbuckled my pants and pulled them down. I was up and hard. "Oh, very nice, very nice," she said.

She straddled me and when she opened her jacket I could see that she was naked underneath. She said "I know you like to look sonny boy, so here's a close-up." She pushed her tits into my face and when I grabbed one and started sucking on the nipple, she laughed. Her laugh was wild enough to almost make my dick go down – almost.

When we had left the house, I was wondering how come she was wearing a skirt and boots when she usually wore jeans. I found the answer when she reached under and took hold of my cock. It went directly up into her pussy since she wasn't wearing panties. She moved up and down and said, "Fuck, that's good." She did it again and there was a bit of surprise in her voice. "Fuck that's good!"

I was also having a good time, but I was sort of observing the whole thing in disbelief. It felt great, and at that age I was willing to fuck anything that moved, but this was my mother riding me. She was starting to move faster and repeating her 'oohs' and 'fucks' and 'yeahs' as she impaled herself deeper with my pole. After a few more long deep insertions into her pussy, she let out a "Fuck, I'm coming..." and a long "Ahhhhh..." reverberated through the car until she finished.

She looked at me and said, "Jesus, I never come like that...and you didn't? You've got some kind of control for a boy in his mother's pussy." I was still hard in her and she said, "You fit real good up in there." She moved her hips and did something with her body that changed my angle of entry into her pussy. As she moved on me I felt the friction that I knew would lead to orgasm.

I said, "Mom, I'm going to come inside you if you don't get off; I'm not wearing anything..."

She laughed and continued riding me. "Did you think your momma was a virgin? Don't worry sweets, it's all taken care of, you come all you want." It was only a few more strokes before I started shooting my cum up into my mother's pussy. My eyes squeezed shut and I pressed down on the seat to push myself up higher into her pussy. I was saying her name under my breath as I spurted. She must have felt me coming in her because her bouncing became frenetic and she repeated "Yeah, yeah, yeah..." as she went up and down on my shaft. I was mouthing the word mom as I kept myself from saying it out loud. As the intensity of my releases lessened, I realized that she had been coming too.

As she got off me she let out a lungful of air and said, "Well now...okay," as if it was a job well done. As she walked around to get the driver's side, a feeling of discomfort came over me. It wasn't so much that my mother had just fucked me, it was my realization that, not before, not during, and not after, had she even kissed me, not once. There were quite a few times in my life where I had said to myself, 'She can't really be my mother.' At that moment I was almost sure she wasn't.

When we got to the airport and she dropped me off, the only sign of affection or caring she showed, besides a stupid wink, was to make me promise I would call her. Even that was unusual for her. As she drove away, a sentence that had never crossed my mind flashed, 'That is one cold bitch.' I stood there shaking my head as if telling myself, 'You got that right.'

Over the next week, whatever spare time I had, was spent thinking about what happened with my mother. I changed my mind over and over about whether it was a beginning or an ending, and what it meant to me, and to her. I put off getting in touch with her until my promise bothered me and I made the call.

It was awkward, for me at least. After telling her about basic, and listening to what was going on with her job, she brought it up. "We had fun didn't we kid?" I didn't know what to say, but before I could even answer she whispered, "You know something, I'm getting a funny feeling just listening to your voice."

I knew one thing; I wasn't about to have phone sex with my mother. I said, "Mom I have to go." She protested a bit, but after I repeated it, she let it go and we said our good-byes.

It was two months before I went home for a visit. In my mind I filed the whole business under 'Case closed,' and neither of us had mentioned it on the phone after that first conversation. She seemed to be calmer than before and I noticed she didn't curse as much. I didn't make too much of it.

When she picked me up, she said, "I missed you." For most people that wouldn't be a surprising remark coming from a mother who hadn't seen her son for over two months, but for me, it set off alarm bells. I had an instinct to be moved and pleased, and one just as strong to be wary – like, 'what the hell is going on?'

As we walked into the parking lot, she said, "I have something for you." She stopped walking and I put down my bag as she went through her purse. She pulled out a set of keys and handed it to me. She slapped the trunk of the blue Mustang she was standing next to and with a bright smile she said, "This is yours baby." I just didn't know what she was talking about. She said, "Get in and I'll tell you all my news."

After getting into the car she said, "I left Jenner's." Remember Robert Conover, who subbed for us and fixed the deck? Well he started his own company and asked me to come work for him. I got a great raise and it's in a nice office; no more fucking yahoos bugging me – I love it. I had enough for a down payment for this... do you like it?"

"It's great mom...thanks...but what are you going to use?"

She laughed, "I still have the old Honda, but it is on its last legs. Do you think I could use this until you come home for good? I should be able to save enough by then."

I laughed, "So you bought me a car - for you?"

She said, "No...well..."

I saw how happy and excited she was when she gave it to me, and the whole thing was so unlike her, I said, "Be my guest mom, use it whenever you want. It's a terrific car." She smiled that happy smile again.

As we drove the dark road home, mom broke the silence to say, "I'm sorry Matt...I..."

I said, "For what, you can use it, everything's cool mom," as if I had no idea what else she could have talking about. That was the end of that.

I actually enjoyed the weekend at home. We went to a movie together and then took a ride out to Lighthouse Point for steamers. I couldn't remember the last time we had done anything together. At the end of my leave, when she dropped me at the airport, I said, "Take care of the car Joan."

She got out, came around and gave me a hug and said, "I will, and you take care of yourself." As she was about to drive off, I heard her call out the rolled down window, "And you call me, you hear me?"

I waved and said, "Okay," and that was how I felt as I flew back to camp. During the next year, I went between home and the three places I was stationed. Fortunately I didn't have to go overseas. The trips home were a time mom and I got to know each other much better than we did when we lived together. We talked on the phone two to three times a week and I realized what a rotten time she'd had with men, starting with my father who'd left her with a kid, and without a dime. It sounded as if he'd put her through hell for two years. She'd changed. I wasn't sure why, but I liked who she'd become. I stopped calling her Joan.

That was the time I started reading erotic stories on the Web, most of them about mothers and sons. Before long, I had tons of them printed out and on CD. They fueled my fire to the point where I thought about mom and me doing stuff all the time. So when I received a certain phone call from mom it was with mixed feelings of embarrassment and excitement.

After going through our usual catch up on the events of the past few days, mom said, "I want to talk to you about something, and don't be mad at me, because I wasn't snooping. I decided to re-paint and re-do your bedroom as a surprise and I came across those stories; you know what I mean Matt?"

I took a breath, "Yeah I know what you mean mom."

"Your not mad at me are you Matt?"

"I'm not mad mom," I said.

"Good, because I was nervous. You know, I've hardly been drinking any more, but I did have a couple so I could talk to you about this. Now I'm not even sure what I wanted to say..."

"It's okay, mom you can say what you want; did they upset you?"

"No Matt," she said. "I read some of them...I sort of liked them. There was one about a guy named Sonny and his mother...wow."

I laughed, "Yeah I like those, he's got his own website and all his stories are way out there. I'm not sure how much is real, but it sounds like it to me. I've got a slew of them here."

"I only saw one here. If you have them there, maybe you can read to me from one of them sometime?"

The prospect of a sexy conversation with mom didn't seem as weird as it once did. I told her to hold on as I dug up one of his stories. I said, "Okay mom, this is one where he and his mother make up this bondage fantasy and then they play it out. In some of his stories the narrators switch and in this part it's his mother who's telling the story. This is the part where his mother wakes up to find herself tied to the bed after he put something in her drink...you ready?"

Mom said, "I'm ready." I started to read.

I woke up groggy and after a moment I realized why I could hardly move. My hands were tied to the headboard and my legs were tied the end posts. I was wearing a black nightgown I didn't remember putting on, or owning. And I know I sure didn't go to bed with silk stockings and high heels on either. Sonny came in from my bathroom and said, "So you're finally up." My head swirled in confusion and I realized how widely my legs were spread as Sonny looked me up and down. I also realized that under the nightgown, I didn't have panties on.

"Sonny," I said, "What the hell's going on? Untie me, now."

He looked at me and laughed, "After I went to all this trouble? I don't think so mother."

He came up to me and put his hand on my cleavage and then slid under the nightgown, cupping one of my breasts. "Sonny, are you crazy, what are you doing?"

"Feeling your tits mother, and you do have a nice pair of tits mother." He pulled the nylon down so both of my breasts were exposed and pushed them up with two hands. He alternately sucked on each nipple drawing hard enough so that they swelled and became erect. I begged him to stop but he just laughed and said, "You're done teasing me with your tits and ass." I knew I was in trouble when he lifted the nightgown and put his hands between my legs.

He closed his eyes as he rubbed my pussy. He was saying, "Ooohh...ooohh..." out of his breath and getting more excited each moment. I knew he was going to fuck me if I didn't do something quickly.

I thought that if I could make him come before he was actually inside me, maybe he'd realize what he was doing. I thought it was my only hope because he was he was out of his mind and he wasn't going to stop. I tried to convince him I had joined his insanity.

"Sonny, baby, listen to me. I know I was teasing you, but it was so we could have some fun together. Come on baby, untie my hands so I can, feel your cock."

"Forget it mother, I'm not untying you."

I thought fast and said, "Okay, then let me feel it between my tits, I always wanted to feel you between my tits."

He considered it for a moment and said, "Why not?"

He straddled me and his cock was long and hard as he placed it between my breasts. It looked long enough to reach my mouth but I didn't want to give him any ideas so I tilted my head back and said, "Oh yeah, that feels good Sonny, yeah..." He rubbed both of my breasts against his cock as slid between them and I hoped he'd come quickly.

It wasn't long before he said, "Oh fuck, here it comes, here it comes." I felt the first shot of warm cum hit my neck and I kept my head back so he wouldn't come on my face or mouth. He kept coming. When he finished he just said, "Wooo...you really do have a great pair of tits. He smeared the cum all over my chest and into my cleavage. He started moving his cock easily in the lubricated valley.

I said, "Okay, we had fun, now untie me and we can talk a little." I tried to sound reasonable and show him I wasn't angry. I wanted him to untie me before he got excited again. Hardly a minute passed and It was already too late. I couldn't believe how quickly he became hard again.

" We're just getting started mother...mother...mother..." He kept saying that as he rode his cock between my breasts and reached back to take my pussy in his hand. He put a finger up into me and said, "We still have to party in here, don't we mother?" He took his wet finger out and drove it fully into my ass and said, "And we still have to party in here too, don't we mother, don't we?" Now I knew I was in more than just trouble.

"Oh Jesus," mom said. I heard her breathing even harder than she had been as I was reading. "Mattie, I must be really drunk, asking you read that to me." He doesn't force her to do that does he?"

"No mom," I said, "It's just a game they're playing with each other. As a matter of fact it turns out that it wasn't Sonny's story at all, it was his mother's who had made the whole thing up to seduce Sonny and it's being told all in the middle of a sex session while he's inside her. It gets a little complicated; I'll bring it home next time and you can read it."

Mom said, "Maybe you shouldn't. My head 's clearing a little from that scotch and I'm starting to think I may have stepped over the boundary again. I just found the stories...interesting. Damn... I was doing so good."

I laughed and said, "You're doing great, don't even think about it." I brought up the subject of the stories a few weeks later, but I could tell mom was uncomfortable so I let it drop. Meanwhile I couldn't get enough them.

When my tour ended, I went home. I never thought that going home could feel that good even though I figured it would be temporary until I found a job. Looking at her in the kitchen making sandwiches seemed so strange. Her hair was much longer; she wore makeup, and the dress she had on really showed her off.

I walked around to see how she'd finished fixing up the house while she got lunch ready. Her bedroom looked so different. The pale yellow walls made it seem filled with light and curtains had replaced the heavy drapes. I noticed a lace bra and stockings on her chair and I picked them up. I only hesitated a moment before the fragrance drove me to inhale them. I felt myself stiffen thinking about her. I went into the kitchen and just looked at her. When she saw me staring, she said, "What?" She laughed when I didn't answer and said "What?" again.

I said, "Nothing mom, you did a great job; the house looks terrific...and so do you."

She laughed again and said, "Well thanks babe, I got tired of looking like one of the boys." I had no idea what to do and what not to do at that moment. So we had sandwiches and talked

I'd had enough of the military. I was trained well in electronics and I believed I was good enough at it to find a secure job somewhere. Mom was now managing the office at Conover's. Everything was working out, until I actually did get two job offers.

The first was a thirty-minute commute from home and for more money than I ever thought I'd make. The second was in New York, four hundred miles away and for even more money. We talked it over and mom pointed out that the extra cost of living in New York would eat up more than all the extra money. She said, "If you stay here, you'll have more money to save to get on your feet with, and I'd get to see you more...but you have to think about it and do what's best."

So much had changed between my mom and me. I said, "Okay I'll think about it." One second later I said, "I thought about it, I'm staying."

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