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89.14% Mom/son insect STORIES / Chapter 156: Two moms Two laps Two hours 2

Chapitre 156: Two moms Two laps Two hours 2

Maybe it was just the beers talking. The idea seemed beyond crazy to me. I mean, Aunt Marie was always teasing, but this was a new extreme. Especially since Mom would be involved too. But Mom and Aunt Marie seemed to think it the most natural solution in the world.

Colin, on the other hand, seemed to be even more shocked by the concept than me. He kept looking back and forth between our mothers, the mere idea of what they were talking about short-circuiting his brain.

I might as well mention it here, since we're not holding anything back. Colin's got it bad for Mom. I'm not sure what it is, but it's undeniable. He tries to hide it, but in one weak drunken moment, he confessed it all to me. He'd spied on her several times, hell, he'd practically worn a path through the bushes to her bedroom window. He was always snapping pictures of her on his phone, like we couldn't tell what he was up to. He even asked if I had any naked pictures of her. Right. Like I'd share them with him if I did?

It was kind of a family inside joke, but I don't think anyone but me understood just how bad a crush he had on Mom.

As you can imagine, this discussion had him breaking out in a cold sweat.

Mom rubbed her hand in my hair. "Whaddaya say, Jeremy? It won't be that bad. We can take a break if it gets too uncomfortable or your legs fall asleep."

My mouth was as dry as the west Texas wind when I finally agreed. "Sure. We'll be fine. It's not like you're Mrs. Wilson." Mrs. Wilson was our 250 lb VERY friendly neighbor. She'd tried to sit on my lap on the front porch, once. It was a disaster of epic proportions, worthy of its own tale. But not right now.

Aunt Marie giggled. "Hardly. I don't think the two of us combined could make one of her." She was right of course. Mom was a fanatic about her weight, dieting like crazy any time the scale inched over 110 lbs. Aunt Marie might have had her by a few pounds, most of that filling out her bikini top at the moment. The image of her naked tits flashed before my eyes. Damn. I looked at her chest again, trying to make out her protruding nipples. Rats. I guess she'd warmed up.

"It's settled then. Let's get this show on the road," Mom said.

It took another 10 minutes to unload the one side, and reload the other. Somehow, barely, we got it all inside, although we struggled to close the rear passenger door. We reorganized a few things, so the top items wouldn't blow away in the wind now that the top was down, and tied them down so they wouldn't shift too much during the drive. It was getting dark, and we knew it would be late by the time we made it home. Mom and Aunt Marie had finished off the last of their beers, while Colin and I had long ago emptied the one each we were allowed. Dad, on the other hand, was still working on a Red-Bull, looking to stay awake and alert for the long drive ahead.

With the vehicle fully packed it became obvious how crowded the backseat would be. There was almost no leg room, and the space was narrower than either front seat. Mom and Aunt Marie were whispering to one side, and then Mom came forward. "So, who will it be, Colin? You want your Mom back there with you, or would you rather have me sit on your lap for a couple of hours?"

Damn, Mom! Tease the boy much? He'd probably have a brain aneurysm if she kept it up.

It turned out Dad had serious issues in that department.

"I think these boys are a little too old to have their momma's sitting in their laps for that long," he said in his 'and-that's-final' tone.

"But it's Ok for their aunt's to sit on their laps?" Mom asked pointedly.

"Hell. I don't like any of this, but given those two options, I'd say yeah. It's better for their aunt to sit on their lap."

Mom rolled her eyes at him, but she knew him as well as I did. Hell, who am I kidding? She knew him a whole lot better. This one was a lost cause. She could argue 'til she was blue in the face, but he wasn't going to budge on this issue. Dad was like that. Mom got her way better than 95% of the time, but on those rare occasions that he had his mind made up about something, you'd be better off waiting for the Mississippi to start flowing north than him changing his mind.

Aunt Marie stayed out of the line of fire, and waited for them to come to a decision. Sexy and smart. Dad didn't say a word, he just stood there with that dark look on his face, and his arms crossed.

Like I said, Mom knows Dad, what makes him tick, and how to play him. After just a few seconds, we watched her walk over to him, and put her hands on his arm. "Of course, Dear. I'm sure you know best about these kinds of things. They're not little boys anymore." She tugged his arm and got him walking with her, away from the rest of us, while they chatted back and forth. It didn't look like they were arguing at all, but when they turned back toward us, Mom was wearing that grin of hers that told me she figured she'd forfeited that battle, but was winning the war.

Aunt Marie was standing near me and when they walked away she put her arm around my waist. "You don't mind too much if I sit on your lap, do you Jeremy? I'll try not to make it too uncomfortable for you."

I turned to my Aunt and put my hands under her arms. I lifted her up, getting her to squeal softly, while I gave her a little shake. "Heck, I figure you can't way much more than 150. That shouldn't be any problem."

Aunt Marie glared at me, smacking me on the arm. "150! You take that back! I don't weigh a pound over 110."

"Really? Mom weighs about 110, and I'm pretty certain you have her by a good 20 lbs or so." I gave her another little shake for emphasis, which set her breasts to swaying, hypnotizing me.

In reality, other than their breasts and butts, they were so similar in size and shape it was unlikely their weight varied by more than a few ounces. But Aunt Marie was just too easy to tease. And she had it coming.

"20 pounds!" she shrieked. "Do I look like I weigh 20 lbs more than Alice? Really?"

Mom and Dad were approaching and it only took Mom seconds to see what was up. "Jeremy! Stop teasing your old aunt. There's no way that she's more than 10 pounds heavier than me."

Aunt Marie turned to glare at my Mom, but when she saw that we were all grinning, she stammered over her accusations, and finally turned back and poked me in the chest. "You're going to pay for that one, buster."

"I know. Believe me, I know. Thanks to Dad, I'll be paying for at least 2 hours. Damn 20 extra pounds. You need to lay off the Twinkies."

She smacked me again, this time pretty hard. I know she left a hand mark on my arm for a good bit.

"Alright Colin, why don't you join me up front, and we can load up," Mom announced.

Dad looked apoplectic. "Certainly you're not going to ride home in your bathing suits?"

Mom look surprised. "God, I can't believe we almost forgot. Riding two hours in these wet suits would be miserable. I'm chafing already. Marie, where'd we put the bag with the travel outfits?"

Aunt Marie wore a look of apprehension, before turning to the car. I saw her sigh in relief as she found the tote bag was actually accessible. She struggled for a second to get it loose, then climbed out of the vehicle, bag held high in victory. "Got it."

Mom passed us clothes to wear on the ride home, and she and Aunt Marie moved into the house to change. While they were gone, Colin and I quickly changed into the outfits she'd held out for us. Just a pair of knit shorts and a t-shirt, but way more comfortable than 2 hours of sitting in wet clothing. We were already wearing the boxers, and they were still wet, so they had to go. Truth is, we went commando most of the summer, so it wasn't all that unusual. I personally liked the freedom; I hated encasing the 'boys' in anything tight.

Mom and Aunt Marie showed up just a couple of minutes later, wearing large baggy t-shirts that reached halfway down their thighs. Mom posed for Dad, lifting the edge of her shirt, displaying some God-awful ugly colored shorts. "Better now?"

Colin and I both gave our Ok's. Dad had changed into sweats earlier so he was already set. "That's a little more reasonable," Dad grudgingly admitted. "Let's load up."

The back seat was narrow with the passenger side down. I climbed in, and took a minute to push and tug at the boxes and suitcases next to me, until I had a bit of shoulder room, and a place to rest my arm. Aunt Marie waited patiently, then carefully maneuvered her way in, tucking her t-shirt under her bottom, while we experimented with what worked best for our legs. In the end she sat with her legs outside mine. I was uncomfortable with my legs pressed together, so I opened my knees about a foot, my feet still together. It resulted in pressing Aunt Marie's legs apart, one up against the door, one against the suitcase wedged in between the front seats. Not the most dainty of positions. It gave me a nice view of a lot of smooth bare thigh.

After Dad completed one last check of the house, he climbed in and started up the engine. "Alright, the end of another great summer. Hell of a last day, huh boys?"

I was caught for a second, wondering if he was talking about the current situation, but Colin recovered faster. "No kidding. We gotta do some more of that pig hunting. That was friggin' intense."

"I'll say," I added, so it wouldn't seem like I was too distracted. Not that I didn't have every right to be. Aunt Marie might not have Mom's 'bodacious' ass, but it felt pretty incredible, pressed against my lap.

The property road was rough, and even off the lane, the main road was still unimproved for the first several miles. It was one of the reason's we'd bought the Jeep Rubicon in the first place. Not the smoothest ride in the world, but it took to off-roading like a pig to mud.

The interior was loud. With the top off, the wind made things noisy and Dad was cranking his classic rock, which thanks to Sirius, he never had to do without.

I think my Aunt and I both understood this was a good bit beyond our typical play. She'd sat in my lap before, watching a movie at home, but this wasn't the same. Not by a long shot. We were in our own little private cocoon, and barely clothed.

Dad pulled out very slowly, and I tried to find a comfortable place for my arms and hands. I finally rested them carefully on her legs, about mid thigh. "Is this Ok?" I asked.

I expected some laughing response, but she just put her hands over mine, sliding them a bit higher. "Nervous?" she asked me.

"A little."

"Don't worry. We'll be fine. I trust you."

My fingers were slowly sliding along her skin, the smooth soft silkiness of her inner thigh. We reached the end of the open driveway, and Dad sped up a bit, as we disappeared into the trees.

Almost immediately we hit a big bump which killed any ideas of propriety we might have had. She bounced across my lap with a squeal, hitting the door hard, her shirt twisting under her. My hands reached out, grabbing one thigh way too high under normal circumstances, and struggling to keep her from falling into the foot-well. Her t-shirt slid almost up to her chest, during a second almost equally bad bounce, and she was lying on her back in my lap, her legs pointed at the ceiling, her knee practically giving me a black eye.

My eyes were drawn between her legs. She wasn't wearing shorts. Hell, she was barely wearing panties. I don't know if Dad would think this was better than bathing suits.

Aunt Marie gasped, struggling to sit upright, and I tried to help, when the next bad bounce turned her sideways on my lap, and I had to grab her butt to stop her from sliding off of me. I gripped her rear tightly, fighting to keep her in place, and miraculously we got her seated again.

Thanks to the panties she was wearing, that grip was more skin then cloth. I didn't want to ever let go.

She had her hands and feet braced against anything she could find, and stared at me with real surprise. I reached forward and pulled her shirt around, where it had gotten twisted, and straightened it out so it covered her pretty little panties again. The bouncing was continuous but manageable for the moment. I held her shirt tail in my hand and on a bigger bounce, quickly slid it under her butt.

"There. Back to PG-13," I teased.

We both started giggling, and she laughed out loud when she was launched, landing hard on my lap.

We tried to settle down. It was a hopeless task. Every few seconds another dastardly road blemish sent us ricocheting off of our surroundings. More than once I had to push the baggage aside to prevent us from getting buried. We were giggling like kids, struggling to get positioned over and over again, limbs flying everywhere. It was more than a little exciting, with my Aunt's chest obviously unencumbered by a bra, and like to put my eye out on a couple of occasions.

During a brief interlude of near smoothness, Aunt Marie leaned a bit toward the door and twisted her torso, looking at me. "Hang onto me, Jeremy. I don't want you guys to have to recover my broken body after I get ejected from this wild ride." She had her mouth inches from my ear, and I still could barely hear her.

I slid my left arm between her and the door, while my right arm encircled her waist. I tugged her in close. I gave her side a little squeeze, pinching imaginary love handles through her shirt.

"I take it back. No more than 5 lbs difference."

She elbowed me. "Stop it. You're just being mean now."

We hit a particularly bad rut in the road, and we were both thrown toward the middle of the car. I tried to hang onto her, but her arms and legs were flailing, and almost clocked me. I caught a breast flush in the face, and instinctively opened my mouth, clamping on for a moment, until the momentum dragged her away from me.

"Harold!" Mom yelled. "Slow down before you get us killed! Another bump like that last one, and if I don't get hurled out of the car, your nephew's going to learn a lot more about his aunt's anatomy than is proper."

Dad finally slowed down, and probably none too soon. That last lurch left Aunt Marie's legs spread-eagle in the air, and I found myself clutching her to my chest, one hand on her breast, and the other gripping the inside of her thigh just a hair's breadth from her crotch. Her shirt had crawled up past her waist again, and looking down I got a really good look at those panties. Tiny pink ones, with an embroidered red heart and the word 'Me' written in girly cursive below. Heart Me. I'm sure you can understand how that resulted in an immediate change in my status below the waist.

I don't know how long Aunt Marie let me grope her like that, but she eventually peeled my hand off of her thigh, and pulled her shirt down enough to cover her bottom. She reached for my other hand, loosened the death grip I had on her tit, and sat back upright. She smiled at me, as she put my hand back on her breast, patting it softly. I gave her a little squeeze. She moved her lips next to my ear. "Boob day."

That set us to giggling again, and I gave her tit a nice long feel. She put her hand on mine again, "Gentle, Ok? And this stays between us."

"I'll be gentle," I assured her. "I'll be anything you want me to be."

She smiled. "Do you like my panties? I wore them special for you."

"I love them. And I do."

"Do?"

"I do love you."

She moved her mouth to my ear. "It's not about that kind of love. Know what I mean?"

I nodded mutely, while I struggled with the agony of my cock hardening while still bent in half. She must have noticed my discomfort. "Am I too heavy?" she asked, sounding serious for once.

I know I blushed. "Not at all. You feel great." I told her. "Maybe a little too good." I confessed.

She raised her eyebrows, and then grinned hugely. "Jeremy Daniels! Are you getting a hard-on for your aunt?" Her mouth was inches from my ear, and I could feel her breath. It wasn't helping the situation.

"Sorry. Didn't mean for it to happen," I answered lamely.

She was still wearing that silly grin. "Don't be sorry. It's a nice compliment. Makes me feel all gooey down there. Do you need to adjust yourself?"

I nodded, and sighed in relief when she lifted her hips off of me. I straightened myself out, pointing it straight upward, toward my belly. Aunt Marie lowered herself, then wiggled her butt against me, a lot more than was necessary, so that my shaft was resting in her butt cleavage.

The whole boob thing was no longer my main concern. The road was still rough, and I held her by the hips, so she wouldn't bounce away on the deeper ruts. Dad's slowing down made it manageable. Our playfulness had fallen by the wayside, and we sat quietly for a while. Each bump would lift her up, and my arms would pull her back down, rubbing against my raging hard-on. I realized I was no longer pulling her straight down, but I'd ease her forward and slide her back, each time we lost contact.

Aunt Marie had one hand on the door handle, and the other pressed against her chest, to keep her overactive tits moderately under control. I could tell I wasn't the only one getting worked up. She was actively playing along, rolling her hips, wedging me deeper in her crack.

I was going nuts.

Aunt Marie seemed to understand my predicament. I'll say that for a woman who was nearly 40 years old, she was pretty darn flexible. She twisted around, and pressed her mouth to my ear again.

"We're being a little naughty, don't you think?"

"Too naughty?" I asked, hoping she'd say no.

"It's a little much. You're driving me crazy, baby."

Driving her crazy? "Me too." A sudden bump lifted her up, and I tried to be more careful about how I brought her back down. "God, you feel good."

She gave me a little kiss. "And you feel big. Really big. When did my little nephew grow up so damn much?"

Yet another bump had me moan, as I felt the pressure of her ass slide along my shaft. That one was all her doing.

"Listen sugar. We've got a long trip ahead of us, and we need to get comfortable, or we'll both be miserable. We can be grownup about this, right?"

"Sure," I told her.

"Ok. Can you slide down just a bit?"

I struggled to move my hips forward an inch or two. "Like that?"

Aunt Marie nodded. "Trust me?"

"Of course. With my life. You know that."

"I know. But I want you to relax for a second and don't make a scene. Ok?"

I didn't know where she was going with this, but I nodded.

My aunt reached down between us, and I felt her hand slide into the leg of my shorts, searching out and finding my stiffness. She tugged it forward gently, then I felt the material of my shorts move aside, and our connection was skin on skin. She wrapped her warm fingers around my shaft, and held me in place while she sat down in my lap, my aching cock between her legs, pressing back against her soft crotch.

She ground her hips in a bit, her hand pressing my hardness against her crotch. Then she closed her legs, and I peeked around her to see the head of my cock, playing peek-a-boo, between her soft pale thighs.

She leaned back against me, then deliberately wrapped my arms around her body, one around her waist, the other just below her tits. She leaned her head against mine. "As wild as the other was, it wasn't at all comfortable. I couldn't spend 2 hours like that. Isn't this a little more comfy?"

I was trembling. Comfy was NOT the right word for what I was feeling. "Better." I admitted.

I wondered if this wild side of her had anything to do with all the booze she'd consumed. I could smell the alcohol on her breath. I turned my hand upward and gently cupped her tit.

She sighed. "We can't get too carried away now, Ok?"

"What's too carried away?" I asked nervously. I wondered if she referred to where I'd put my hand.


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