College Awaits, Son [Incest] [An Old Classic]

“Jules!” My call rang through the hallway, up the stairs, hopefully into my son’s room.

I heard a thud and his door opened, his voice carrying to me in the kitchen, “Yeah mom, I’ll be down in just a minute, I just got out of the shower.”

“We need to go! Your dad has the car packed and ready to go. I made ham sandwiches.”

“Oh! Well in that case, I’ll be right down.” I could almost hear the smirk in his voice.

“Yeah, yeah, smart ass, just don’t keep us waiting.” I packed the sandwiches up and put them into the cooler, heading outside to the car, where my husband was fiddling with the radio. I put the cooler in the front seat and comically wiped my brow, sighing. “Hard work isn’t it?”

He looked up at me and chuckled, knowing he and Jules had been the ones doing all of the loading. “Nah, absolute walk in the park.” He flashed me a giant smile and went back to his work.

“Jules said he’d be down in just a minute, is there anything left to grab from inside?”

“Yeah, there’s a huge bag of clothes–the ones you washed last night–that still need to go in here, but I’ve got no idea where we’d stuff them. I’ve been thinking on what I could move, but there’s nothing I could leave here and bring later, and he needs clothes.”

I looked at the packed car and furrowed my brow, thinking for a moment, “We can put it in the front seat, I’ll sit with Jules in the back.”

“You sure? It’s a long ride and there’s not much space back there.”

“We’ve been closer before.” I winked at him, “The womb doesn’t leave much space.”

He cringed, “Gross.” I swatted at him playfully and he backed away, grinning again, “Alright, alright, I relent. Motherhood is a beautiful thing.”

“I’ll go grab the clothes and try to hurry Jules along. I don’t want to have to get a hotel.”

He nodded and turned his attention back to the car as I went inside. Jules was coming down the stairs, his hair tousled and slightly wet. He flashed me a smile, “Ready to go, mom?’

“Just about, can you bring this load of clothes to the front seat?” I pointed to a bag stuffed to the brim with his favorite sweats, t-shirts, and basketball shorts. He went over to it and hefted it up on his shoulders; he flexed his free arm.

“This is why you had such a strong son, right?” He laughed, heading outside.

I sighed, shaking my head. *Men.* I followed him out and he set the bag down, nodding in greeting to his dad and then moving to get into the back seat. “Now hold on, I have to get in first.”

“Woah,” he protested, “I need room to stretch out–I’m not a small boy any more.”

I smiled at him and pulled myself into the SUV’s backseat, settling down in the middle. Even though I was nearing forty, I considered myself in the best shape of my life since college. I’d started running again recently and my husband’s interest in my hips had grown considerably since I started lifting with some of the other empty-nesters that I was friends with. I was small, but not tiny, and I knew it would be a tight squeeze. But dammit, I’d raised him, he could sit with me.

He climbed in after me and his arm squished against mine, the pressure light and not too bothersome. He closed the door and repositioned, his arm now pushing in to my breast. I tried to reposition myself as well, but really to no avail; I ended up just rubbing my breast against his arm.

My husband buckled up and readjusted his rear view mirror. He turned his head to look back at us and grin with boyish delight at our obvious discomfort, “You two buckle up back there, it’s going to be a long ride. If you need to stop, just let me know.”

“We’ll be fine.” I shot him a look of exasperation, wanting to throw my hands up. I eyed the front seat, stuffed with clothes and snacks.

“Yeah, mom and I could always use come bonding time.” Jules intended to rib me, but he just ended up pushing harder into my breast, brushing against my nipple and making me squirm.

We spent the first half hour chit chatting about the excitement of dropping off our only child at a college fifteen hours away. It was a trying time for all of us, as Jules had always been a homebody and a mommy’s boy. I didn’t know what I was going to do without him. I tried readjusting a few times, but to no avail.

Eventually the pressure on the side of my breast proved too much for me to take and I looked at Jules, whispering to him, the music my husband was blasting drowning out anything else, “I don’t think is going to work for the whole ride.”

He smiled knowingly and patted his lap, his tree-trunks-for-legs spreading slightly, “Come on, hop on my knee, I’ll tell you a story.”

I laughed, but then soon saw he was serious. “Oh, you mean it.”

He shrugged, “Why not? I sat on your lap for years.”

I pulled myself up from the spot I was in and, with some maneuvering, managed to place myself on his lap. The heat from his stomach and crotch was almost overwhelming at first as I settled against him, pulling my hair to one side, feeling his hot breath on my neck. My husband looked back at us and raised an eyebrow, turning the radio down.

“You too okay back there?”

Jules answered, “Yeah, mom is just trying to get comfortable back here. I offered my lap. We’ll see if I can survive her bony butt.” He stuck his tongue out at me and I swatted at him.

“I’ll let you know if his sarcasm kills me.”

My husband laughed, turning the radio back up and jamming to some rock ballad I’d scrubbed from my memories of the 80s. It took me a moment to notice, but he had put his hands on my hips, resting them at the top of my thighs. His breath was still hot on my neck, making my hair stand on end. I began to feel an odd, familiar ache between my legs. No. I was not getting horny over my son. I couldn’t be. I didn’t dare look at him. His hands were hot, heavy on my thighs. The sundress I wore, accounting for the Texas heat we’d soon experience, was riding up my thighs.

“You comfortable?” He whispered in my ear, his voice rough and deep. Since when did he sound so sexy?

“Yes,” I said quietly, feeling his hands grip my thighs.

“I’d be happy to help you,” he moved beneath me and I almost gasped, “readjust if you need, mom.”

His growing erection pressed against my ass, wanting to tear through his shorts and my sundress. I bit my lip, trying to stop myself from instinctively grinding into him. “No, no, I’m okay,” I whispered, pressing myself into his chest, feeling his lips brush my neck, sending shock waves through me. I looked over to my husband, whose attention was on the road and the tunes he was belting. Everything about this felt so wrong, the car, my husband, my son! Oh god, this was my son.

He readjusted himself against me once again and I stifled another gasp. He was huge, even bigger than my husband, he had to be. The way his cock pressed against me made me feel like a horny teenager. All I wanted was to tear his clothes off and fuck him right there in the backseat.

No! No, no, none of this was right. Yet, my pussy was still wet, still leaking like a faucet at the thought of him pounding me until I screamed his name. His fingers moved under my sundress, and I said a silent thank you for the fact we were behind my husband, pushed so far up against his seat he couldn’t see anything but our faces in the rear view. I tried to keep a straight face as I opened my legs for my son’s hands, rough and forceful, finding their way to the wet spot on my underwear.

“Either of you need a stop any time soon?” My husband looked at us in the mirror, probably noticing my strange expression.

“I’m doing okay, how about you mom?”

I nodded weakly and did my best to answer, “I’m getting more comfortable as time goes on. Hopefully my bony butt isn’t too much of an intrusion.”

“No, of course not! I think I’m getting more comfortable too.” Jules flashed a smile that I spotted in the mirror. His face was one of mischievous delight.

My husband shrugged and took a granola bar out, chomping on it and turning the music back up, “Just let me know, alright?” He yelled over the music, mouth full.

“Will do!” Shouted Jules back, his fingers pushing firmly onto my clit. I sucked my breath in as he began to move his fingers in a circular motion. “That okay, mom? I don’t want you to be uncomfortable.”

I put my hand on his as confirmation and set my face in the most neutral expression as I could as my pussy burned with longing. I needed his cock in me, and fast.

He brushed his lips against my ear and whispered, “If you move up for a moment, I can get more comfortable myself.”

“Yeah, sure.” I said, lifting myself up for a moment, his hands moving to his own pants. When I sat back down his cock pressed into my vulva with incredible force, wanting, once again, to tear through the fabric and penetrate me. His fingers found their way up my dress, hooking his thumbs around my panties. He shimmied them down with little effort. Apparently he’d been around more women than I’d known; maybe one of those pretty high school girls he’d bring around, Samantha? Tina? I couldn’t remember their names; it felt like I couldn’t remember my own.

He lifted me up for a moment and then brought me down on his cock gently, pushing me all the way down. He stopped there and let the road do the rest, but he couldn’t stop himself from occasionally thrusting into me, hitting my cervix and sending waves of pleasure throughout my body.

Fuck. I was sitting on my son’s cock, inches away from my idiot husband. And I was loving it. I was sweating, tears welling up in my eyes from the heat, the pressure, the implication. The bumps in the road sent me into an almost-frenzy, wanting desperately to bounce up and down on his cock like a whore, to scream, to moan his name, to tell him I loved him. But he did that for me.

With a sigh that sounded almost like a groan, he whispered into my ear, sending me over the edge, “I love you, mom.”

I came like I hadn’t cum in ears, the walls of my pussy contracting against his big cock, gripping him, cum leaking down my legs onto his pants. He thrust a few more times, quietly and quickly, and came inside of my unprotected womb, his cock shuddering inside of me. And then, suddenly, he lifted me up and his cock fell out, leaving me feeling empty. He zipped his pants up and pulled my panties back onto me.

He whispered into my ear once again, his hand brushing my hair to the side, “How does round two in the next gas station bathroom sound? I can really show you how much of a man I’ve become then.”

“Please.” My voice was soft, pleading. I needed him to fuck me. I needed my son’s cock inside of me again as soon as possible.

We rode in silence for a moment, my pussy aching and on fire, still. I leaned to the right and said to my husband, “Can we stop at a bathroom soon? I need to go, maybe you can grab us some drinks?”

He turned to volume down, “Sure! It’ll just be about fifteen minutes, can you hold it that long?”

“Yes, no problem.”

The ride to the gas station seemed to stretch on for eons. We’d been in the car two hours already, the sex lasting only about half an hour of it as my son tormented me, cock inside of my throbbing pussy, letting the road dictate my pleasure. When we got out, I was thankful my son’s pants were dark, else my cum would have stood out like a neon sign.

I stole away to the bathroom, holing myself up in there and locking the door. I took a deep breath and looked at myself in the mirror. I just fucked my son. Oh god. Before I could think any more about it, there was a knock on the door. “Occupied!” I yelled out, still wild-eyed in front of the mirror.

“It’s me.” Came the response, the voice of Jules.

My throat tightened as I opened the door. He pushed his way in and locked it behind us, immediately grabbing my hips. Without a word, he bent me over the sink and pulled up my dress, dropping my panties once again. “Jules,” I gasped, “what are you–”

His cock, hard and throbbing once again, silenced me. I let out a loud moan, glad to be able to unleash the primal beast within me. He grabbed my hair and pulled my head back, making me watch him in the mirror as he fucked me, pounding my hips into the sink. I stuck one of my hands out onto the mirror, leaving a print as we both sunk into cries of pleasure.

“Harder, baby, harder!” I demanded through gritted teeth. I could have let him fuck me forever.

“Fuck mom, you feel so good.” He moaned as he came inside of me, panting.

Slowly, I detached myself from him and turned around, pressing myself against his sweaty body, “Baby I love you so, so much.” I kissed him, running my fingers through his hair. “Just, let’s make sure we keep quiet about this, okay? Your dad can’t find out.”

He nodded, zipping up his pants, “I’m not dumb. I know.”

I kissed his cheek, “Good, now let’s go. You head out first, I’ll follow in a few minutes.”

“I’ll see you back at the car.” He gave my ass a squeeze with a grin and I let out a yelp, swatting at him.

I quickly wiped down my thighs, now both stained with my cum and my son’s cum–god, he had just cum inside of me! Twice! I stared at myself in the mirror again when I heard another knock on the door. I gathered myself together and opened the door to see my husband. He smiled at me and gave me a kiss on the cheek.

“I got you a Diet Coke; I hope the kid isn’t giving you too much trouble back there.” He smiled as he pushed past me, “I’ll be there in a second. You too don’t gossip too much about me, alright?”

I nodded guiltily, “Of course!” I went back to the car and scooted into my spot on Jules’ lap. He wrapped his arm around my stomach and kissed my ear.

“I love you so much. Thank you.”

I blushed, “I–I love you so much too, baby.”

He rubbed my stomach, his hand brushing up towards my breast. “I want to take you in my apartment, when we get there. Let’s send dad away to get food or something. I want to bend you over on the bed and fuck you again. Please.” He didn’t stop for me to answer, “I want you to get on your knees and suck your son’s cock clean after he fucks you. I want to cum all over your face and tits and then lick it off.”

“Oh, baby,” I hesitated, watching my husband leave the bathroom and head towards us, “We’ll have to figure that out later.” But I couldn’t deny the ache in between my legs, returning now with a vengeance. It felt like he’d sparked another fire in me; I could still feel his cum dripping out of my sore pussy. And now, he wanted more.

The rest of the ride was quiet, with some small talk, a little more fondling from Jules, and a lot of guilt, shame, and taboo pleasure as I turned the incestuous act, inches from my husband, over in my head. I did want him to fuck me again. I did want to suck his cock. But I didn’t know how. I could always visit later. But who’s to say we’d both still want it then? How could we want it now?

​

[[While this is an old trope, I wrote this new piece. If you like it, I’ll finish it. Thanks!]]

Source: reddit.com/r/Erotica/comments/l1nwf4/college_awaits_son_incest_an_old_classic