Mom Sucking in the Backseat

There's a photo of my mother in the backseat of a classic Mustang, framed on the living room wall. In the photograph she's wearing a police uniform, complete with a badge and blue short sleeve top. It was taken in her younger days when she was carefree and wild. The car was parked, the door was open, and she's got one leg stepping out while she faces the camera.

Is she actually a police officer? Not in a million years.

She's a model. A successful one at that. But at 49 years old the modeling gigs have slowed and she does smaller shoots here and there. These days she makes paintings and pottery and she writes a Substack giving life advice.

Here's what else you need to know:

Billy is the family jock. He drives way too fast.

Casey -- that's me -- the family brains. And I drive too slow.

We're both 18 and our sibling relationship has always been... meh. We're both tight with mom, but with each other? We have little in common as you can figure from that brief description above. Hobbies, politics, general interests... we're worlds apart.

Anyway...

The reason I mention that Billy drives fast and I drive cautious is because we're both leaving the house soon and mom wants to make up for lost time. She used to travel all over the world for modeling gigs and was rarely home. Can't say I blame her. I'd want her lifestyle if I had the beauty for it.

So as her parting gift she insists on a family road trip. Just the three of us. During which time she'll impart all her knowledge from her race car driver ex-boyfriend and maybe we'll have some cool memories along the way.

It's approaching 8 a. m. and we're almost ready to go. Once again I'm drawn to that police/backseat photograph of my mother because it's prominently displayed in the living room. A friend had shipped it to her last week as a gift. Mom loves it, a reminder of wild times.

She comes into the living room, barefoot, dressed in shorts and a small tshirt, and she's holding out her phone like there's been a revelation.

"Friendly reminder," she says. "Speed limit in the next state is lower. More cops, too. Casey, you're up first. Billy, you're taking over when we cross the state line."

Billy looks at her. "So I get the state with more cops?"

"You should be honored. More responsibilities, you know."

"But you're acting like I need training to avoid cops. I've never gotten a ticket."

"That's because you've gotten lucky. You haven't driven for very long. With my guidance, you'll be a professional. That's what this trip is about."

Billy looks her over. "Honestly, it's hard taking your driving seriously."

"Why? Because I'm a woman?"

"No... I mean... dressed like that."

She puts her hands on her hips. "Hot women can't give driving lessons?"

"My driving instructors have always been guys with beer bellies. That's all I'm saying. Not... dressed like you."

"Admit it, you don't want driving lessons from a woman. Just be honest."

I interject. "There may be a simple solution."

Mom and Billy stop bickering and turn to me.

I point to the large framed photograph on the wall. The sexy one with mom wearing the police uniform almost two decades ago, backseat of a muscle car with her boot hanging out, legs spread. At first they wonder why I'm gesturing to the photograph, and when they get what I'm implying, mom laughs.

"Alright, hang on," she says. "Give me ten minutes."

She leaves and rushes up the stairs. Billy and I exchange the usual banter, with him pointing out that I lack social grace because I gestured to a semi-erotic photograph during a legitimate conversation.

When mom comes back, she's wearing tight blue pants, a sleeveless blue buttoned top, and she's even got a fake silver police badge pinned to her chest. There's even a pair of handcuffs hanging from her thick black belt. What makes this so classically mom is that she's still barefoot in that 'police uniform' with her pedicure on full display.

She puts her hands on her hips. "Can you take me seriously now? Notice the badge, notice the uniform. Fits like a charm. The only thing missing is a side piece."

My brother and I look at each other. The truth is, we have no idea what to think.

I also believe that my brother and mom have no idea how sneaky I am. My nipples are erect beneath my carefully framed top and I tingle between my legs. I get aroused every time I see that police woman image of mom, ever since she posted it in the living room, and this morning is no exception.

Billy laughs and gives a thumbs up, while mom spins around, showing off the outfit. I'd like to give our mother a different kind of thumbs up. One where my fingers go somewhere it shouldn't. People look at me and assume, based on my dry personality, that I'm sexless. In some ways that's true. Other times I need the dirtiest fantasies possible to achieve orgasm.

x

Half an hour later we're driving through the neighborhood. My brother is sitting next to me and our mother is in the backseat, fully committed to the gimmick in that police uniform. When I say she's committed to the gimmick, she's got those big silver sun glasses on with the window rolled down and her hair flowing. She's loving this. And I'm sure people are wondering what a cop is doing relaxing in the backseat.

An hour later, I'm driving down the highway with mom giving casual instructions. Basically encouraging me to put my foot on the gas. How to relax, how to hold the steering wheel at speed, how to pay attention to the mirrors and road, how to cruise.

Two hours later, we cross state lines and stop at a gas station for snacks and to stretch our legs. The funny thing is people legit think mom is a cop. She keeps those shiny sunglasses on because she loves the style and people stand up straight around her. Or they outright avoid her. I wonder if that's an aphrodisiac for her?

I hand Billy the keys and he's grinning before the door even shuts. Mom's in the backseat once again. I'm in the front passenger seat. Pulling out of the gas station is fine, entering the highway is fine, but once the lanes are clear and the view is gorgeous, that's when Billy starts flooring the gas.

He's not reckless by any means. He's an athlete who loves excitement and so he presses the pedal harder than he should. I squirm at the speed and mom does the same.

"Billy slow down a bit," mom says.

She has to talk loud over the roaring engine.

"I'm good."

"You're not good. You're too fast."

He glances at mom's reflection in the mirror. "Nobody's out here."

"Doesn't matter. You have one rule."

He doesn't respond, just reduces speed slightly.

Mom leans forward. "Pull over."

"Huh?"

"You heard me. Pull over. Now."

Billy takes his foot off the gas and pulls over. Once the car stops he turns off the engine.

"Mom... I..."

"Out of the car."

"Seriously?"

"Yes, I'm serious."

Mom instructs me to stay in the car.

They get out with Billy knowing he's in trouble. He's got that kind of expression on his face. They stand near my side of the car -- away from traffic -- and mom paces around to gather her thoughts. That's what she does when she's fuming and I hope this doesn't ruin the trip.

"That's the problem with men your age," she says. "Way too much testosterone."

"Wow. Really?"

"Yes, really. Driving fast feels good at the moment, I get it, but you're putting yourself at risk... and don't forget about your passengers. You're young, you can get lucky, but luck doesn't last forever."

"I'm sorry. I wanted to give everyone a thrill."

"Have you been drinking?

"What? No."

"Anything else? Pills? Anything illegal?"

"No way."

She studies Billy like her police badge is real. "Hands on the car. Feet apart."

Billy looks at me through the window and I shrug. I get that he's embarrassed, but if I were in that position, my nipples would be poking out of my top.

Once he gets humbled, mom stands behind him.

"This is what happens when you give police a reason," she says. "You get stopped, you get questioned, and maybe you'll get searched."

She starts at Billy's shoulders, down the sides, she even pulls the wallet and phone out of his pockets. She's being thorough on purpose to give Billy the real experience.

"Anything yet to find?" she asks.

"No."

Mom's hands go to Billy's waistband. He flinches.

"Stop moving," she says.

"That's..."

When her hands probe around Billy's ass and then crotch, mom appears to have found more than she bargained for.

He sucks in a breath. Mom's hands are still around the crotch area. Is that? Could it be? I have no clue if he's hung but it seems like mom found a big cock.

"Okay," she says. "Hands off the car. I'm letting you off with a warning."

They both hang their heads and look in opposite directions as they get back inside the car. Neither wants to acknowledge this and Billy is hunched over adjusting his clothes after being searched. Yep, there it is, my brother got a fucking hard-on while being searched.

Can't say I blame him.

x

We take turns driving over the next few hours. Lunch was fine, meaning it wasn't as awkward as expected. Mom lightened up on the gimmick, taking off that buttoned top and just rocking a plain white tshirt during lunch, showing off her skinny figure. They didn't talk about what happened either.

It's evening and we just had burgers and fries at a diner. I finish using the bathroom, then I hear mom and Billy whispering near the men's bathroom. That's something mom does when she wants to say something confidential, she goes to you and whispers softly, mindful not to hurt anyone's feelings.

Their conversation is hushed and I can barely make out a few words.

"Sorry about before... I didn't mean to humiliate you..."

"I'm sorry, too...."

Some parts I can't hear.

Then, "I meant that... you have too much testosterone... I don't want you getting hurt... I need you to relax a bit more... okay?"

More whispering. I can't hear everything.

"Fine, okay," Billy says. "I can do that."

It sounds like they hug after, which is normal, because mom is a hugger. But I swear I can hear a few kisses at the end. Perhaps her lips to Billy's face.

An hour later I'm cruising down the highway and the sun has gone down. Mom and Billy are in the backseat together and she's buttoned her police uniform again, committing fully to the gimmick.

Rain drops hit the windshield. Trickles at first then it picks up. It's noisy.

Mom leans forward between the seats and gets close to my ear.

"Night rain on the highway is intimidating," she says. "Don't be afraid. The car won't slip if you're steady. But keep a distance from other cars. No sudden anything. Keep your eyes on the road Casey, not the backseat, okay? Focus."

"Got that."

"Wonderful, you're a great driver."

She sits back and I smile.

For a few minutes I keep cruising while rain hits the windshield.

Out of the corner of my eye, I glance at the rearview mirror to see Billy slouched in his seat with his head back. He damn near looks like he's passing out. Mom is angling toward him, sitting closer than she needs to be. Mom's fake badge glistens when headlights shine in our car from a passing truck.

I focus on the road. Every once in a while, I glance at the rearview. Billy's sweater is on his lap going up and down. Up and down. I see mom's arms. So close.

A handjob. A fucking handjob. It has to be. The whole thing clicks in my head and it explains the intimate conversation they had earlier. The rain is loud enough that their clothes ruffling is hard to hear and it's dark. They thought they could get away with this...

It does make sense as I drive and think about it. It's an unconventional solution to Billy's 'high-testosterone' problem. So who offered the deal? Billy or mom? I can't imagine Billy ever requesting such a thing without expecting a head-spinning slap across the face.

However, I could imagine mom making that kind of offer. Her idea of parenting has always been to bribe us, to offer money incentives for good grades and good behavior, while she traveled to job locations or went out to parties.

Billy makes a sound with his mouth that he tries to turn into a cough. Mom's arm pauses. I'm subtly glancing in the rearview, trying to be cautious about spying. She grabs a napkin like she just ate, then wipes her hand. She sits back and smooths her shirt. Billy shuffles around as well... which... I'm pretty sure he's pulling his pants up.

A fucking handjob...

"Next exit," she says. "We're almost at the motel. I want Billy to drive the next stretch so he has experience with night time rain on the highway."

"Got it."

I pull over minutes later. We get out of the car. Mom walks to a nearby garbage and tosses out that soiled tissue and Billy takes the driver's seat. Totally relaxed.

When we're back on the road, Billy is a new person, driving slightly under the speed limit, perfect on every turn and curve. Mom is watching the speedometer like a hawk, her head over Billy's shoulder.

"See?" she says. "This is what I wanted."

He shrugs. "What can I say? You're a great teacher."

The motel is one of those two-story places with doors facing the parking lot and ice machines around the corner. We get two rooms. One for Billy, the other for me and mom to share. After a day on the road we're all exhausted and head to our rooms for a shower and sleep.

Moonlight illuminates our room and we lay on separate beds. I can tell that mom is facing me, she prides herself on being intuitive and I know that questions are coming.

"Casey, are you awake?"

"Yes?"

"What's wrong?" she asks.

"Nothing's wrong. Why are you asking?"

"You've been quiet since we got to this motel."

I take a long pause because this conversation can go in vastly different directions.

Maybe I'm letting the stirring between my legs guide me too much.

"I saw what you and Billy were doing in the backseat."

A long pause. Way too long. She never pauses this long for anything.

"You saw that?" she asks.

"Basically, yeah."

"What did you see?"

"It starts with the letter 'H' and ends with the word 'job' if I'm being honest."

She takes another long pause. "I told you to watch the road."

"Checking the rearview mirror is part of driving. You taught me that, remember?"

"There's a simple, but screwed up explanation," she says. "Billy was humiliated for what happened today. You know, the police-search thing."

"And his erection. I noticed."

"Yes, that. I needed to smooth things over. The last thing I want on this road trip is bad feelings. Positive vibes only. Lasting memories. And I want Billy to be a safe driver. So I made the deal of a lifetime."

"So you jerked him off."

"I offered to take the edge off before he drove. That was the deal."

"You can live with that?"

"It's practical," she says. "If it means road safety, then it's worth my dignity."

"There's logic to that I suppose."

"Are you upset with me? I understand if you are."

"It's actually an amazing sacrifice," I say. "Billy does drive recklessly at times, I'll admit, and the handjob was the only thing that got him under control. Billy was like a totally different driver after. So yeah, it works."

"Do you think it's gross?"

"I'm practical. Whatever works."

"Would it bother you if it happened again? Tomorrow is going to be a sunny day on a long stretch of road. I need to keep Billy's hormones down or else he'll speed on the sharp turns. And those turns are dangerous around the hills."

"If there are dangerous turns then all the more reason."

She laughs. "Now you're being way too casual about this."

"Hey, this was your idea."

We agree that it's a necessary measure, then we get to sleep. As I lay here with my eyes closed, I hear the sound of mom reaching for her phone. Her body is turned away from me but the light from her phone is bright. She's texting.

At this point I'm certain she's texting Billy to finalize tomorrow's plans.

xxx

Breakfast is something quick at a nearby diner. There's this nervous tension between all of us. Mom's wearing a normal designer tshirt with shorts and sandals. Seems like she dropped the police woman gimmick already and prefers going with comfort and style for the rest of the trip. She looks sexy with her boobs protruding and her hair tied.

After breakfast we pack our stuff and get ready to leave.

"Wait a second," she says. "Real quick. 10 minutes."

She goes back to the hotel room with her luggage while I stand around with Billy and we make small talk. I resist the urge to inquire about the handjob.

10 minutes later mom comes out of the hotel room wearing a nursing outfit. Fitted blue V-neck top. Skinny arms and upper chest showing. Matching blue pants. A neat ponytail. She's even got a stethoscope around her neck which could be legit. She looks like she could walk into any clinic and blend right in.

I melt between my legs. My nipples turn erect beneath my top. As an academic minded person, this gets me hotter than her police costume. I think the police costume appealed to Billy more, whereas the medical thing hits the bullseye for me.

Is mom pushing our buttons on purpose?

She strikes a pose, one leg to the side, hands on her hips, a deviant smile.

Billy stares hard. "You're kidding."

"Does it look like I'm kidding?"

"Wild that you had that outfit packed this whole time."

"It's a thin outfit. Folds easily."

"You look great," I say.

She holds her hands up and smiles. "At least someone appreciates my fashion. Today's theme is... err... safety. So I'll be the nurse."

I wonder if mom was about to say that today's theme is bodily fluids -- or something along those lines -- and stopped herself mid-sentence.

We get in the car. I get behind the wheel and we cruise. They're in the backseat together and the sexual vibe in the car is palpable. No one says a word for almost an hour. Just the sound of the engine at the speed limit.

"Casey, this stretch looks empty but people come off these ramps fast. Don't get complacent in this area. I need you locked in. Eyes forward."

"I am locked in."

"Good, keep it that way."

She sits back after giving those instructions. Then I catch a motion in the rearview mirror that isn't a passing car. Billy's sweater is across his lap again. Same trick as yesterday. They're trying to be subtle back there and I pretend I don't notice.

Mom's shoulder moves closer to his. Her forearm starts working under the sweater, very subtle, like she's searching for something. Billy suddenly tenses.

I keep my eyes forward. Mostly...

"Casey, there's a bunch of flashy billboards on the right. Don't stare at them. I see more ramps coming. Watch your lane. Someone might swerve."

"Got that, my eyes are forward."

"Excellent work. You're like a totally new driver."

"Thanks, all because of you."

I notice her body moving in the rearview. With a razor quick glance, I notice her seatbelt is off. Somehow she undid her seatbelt quietly. She's positioning herself.

She's sitting there. A minute later I glance again and she's not there anymore.

Just a ponytail...

Mom is bent over Billy's lap as if she's dropped something on the floor. Except her head doesn't come up. It only goes up and down. The ponytail. Billy's body is tense while this happens. Looking closer at the rearview mirror, mom's head is buried beneath Billy's sweater. She bobs. Up and down. The ponytail becomes a symbol of something else.

A fucking blowjob...

I want to cry, I'm that horny. Jacking off is one thing, but sucking? While I'm in the fucking front seat driving? The audacity. I've always appreciated mom's sexual nature but doing this with Billy is something that sends me over the edge and I'm tempted to roll down the window because I'm about to start sweating. My nipples are so hard they could cut glass and I'm damn near going to stain the seat.

When I look at the rearview again, Billy's face has gone red. He doesn't bother looking at me. His eyes are busy down there, lifting the sweater so he can have a peek of mom sucking. Her lips around his cock. I don't blame him. I'm dying to see this as well. Lucky guy. I'm so tempted to turn around and pull that sweater off to see mom's lips wrapped around my brother's dick.

But I don't. This is supposed to be subtle and discreet.

I keep driving and take only reasonable glances to the backseat. In the mirror Billy's whole body goes rigid, one hand on the door, other hand holding up the sweater to look at mom's lips. The bobbing gets shorter, tighter, and Billy's hips pump. It's the first time Billy is pumping his hips, and for a guy, that can only mean one thing.

Does mom pull away? No, she doesn't. She keeps bobbing under that sweater in tight movements, fully intending to swallow, I presume. Then her head goes still. Billy freezes with his mouth open. Yep, an orgasm. And mom's head is still underneath that sweater, not moving an inch, presumably swallowing every drop. She doesn't even reach for a napkin to wipe. Everything down her throat.

She stays there an extra few seconds like she's finishing a cleanup job and Billy slumps against the seat with his eyes shut. Wrecked and quiet.

When mom finally comes up, she keeps the sweater over Billy's lap. She wipes her mouth with the back of her hand. I don't see any cum on her face, but her lips shine beautifully. Like she just had a sugary doughnut and it formed a syrup with her saliva. When she wipes her mouth again, the glaze is gone, her lips go back to its normal color.

She fixes her v-neck top and nursing outfit like nothing happened.

"Excellent driving, Casey, that was smooth."

I keep my eyes forward. "Thank you."

A few exits later we stop for gas and Billy fills the tank. This time he's pumping fuel into the car rather than cock into mom's mouth. Both are important functions.

I'm in the bathroom with mom and we're peeing in adjacent stalls. I can hear her peeing, she can hear mine. My underwear is a problem. I have to use toilet paper to wipe the wetness.

Afterward we wash our hands next to each other. I try not to stare at mom's mouth.

"Hope that wasn't obscene," she says.

"I thought the deal was your hand."

She looks at me while using soap. "Does sucking bother you?"

"I can't be mad... not while... you know... you're wearing that."

She smiles and rinses the soap. "I knew you'd like this nursing outfit."

"Yes."

"That's why I brought it. The medical thing is for you."

My mouth goes dry. "You packed it for me?"

"Casey, truth be told, I know you better than you know yourself. I know exactly the kinds of things you like. Even when it comes to me."

She smiles and grabs a paper towel.

"Well, not like that," I say.

She dries her hands. "You watched me giving a blowjob. You didn't freak out. You didn't slam the brakes. You just watched."

"That doesn't mean anything."

"In the bathroom stall I could hear you scrubbing your undies with toilet paper."

"Ummm...."

"I've always been an awful mother... well... not awful... but an absentee mother. That's a better word. And I'm trying to make up for it. Fair is fair. That's the golden rule. If I do something for Billy, then I have to do the same for you."

"Did you read that in a parenting book somewhere? Because I don't think that's what they had in mind."

She blushes. "Deal or not?"

I gulp. "Deal."

She offers a formal handshake, then afterward it's Billy's turn to use the bathroom after pumping gas. Minutes later, Billy takes the driver's seat while I'm backseat with mom. It's my first time sitting backseat with mom, previously I'd been a co-pilot for Billy in the front seat.

An hour later mom is giving Billy advice on sharp turns. My eyes glance at mom's legs. Those pants are tight. So is the top and the shape of her breasts are clear. She doesn't look at me, she keeps her eyes on the speedometer and gorgeous view on this sunny day.

"Billy, can you promise to keep the speed under the limit? These turns look nasty. I need you to watch the asphalt, not the mirror."

"Done and done. Don't even worry about this."

"Good. Keep your eyes there."

A few minutes later mom puts her hand on my knee. I'm wearing shorts. Her palm to my skin. She doesn't even look at me. She keeps her eyes on the view and occasionally the speedometer. Then she looks down at my lap. Her hand strokes my thigh, on my skin, then my inner-thigh over my shorts.

I understand what she's doing.

My fingers hook the waistband and I bring my shorts down. Slow at first, in case I have the wrong impression. My trim pubic hairs show and mom glances at them, seeing my pubes for the very first time. She doesn't flinch. She uses her hand to help pull my shorts down.

She slides down the seat, her knees on the floor, her thin body contorts. We're so close that I can see the beads of sweat on her forehead from the heat. When she moves around I can see down her v-neck to her bra.

When she kisses my bare thigh I flinch. It's a shock, the good kind. She looks at my pubic mound and the hairs around it. Had I known this would happen, I would have shaved clean before the trip. She grazes my pubic hairs with the back of her finger. Maybe she likes it.

She brings her mouth to me and the whole thing is so awkward that I stare out the window. Mom doesn't rush, but her tongue goes to work. She's subtle about it. She can do this with her body contorted in the back seat. That's what years of yoga and pilates will do to a woman's body. It makes her agile and graceful for backseat sucking... and heaven forbid... backseat fucking at some point.

She isn't full-on eating yet. Just kissing and licking.

"Great work, Billy," she says. "Hold that speed. I like how controlled you are."

"Of course."

Billy's voice is hoarse. He knows what's going on back here.

After mom gives her final instruction to keep the driving safe, she plunges her tongue inside me. I have to clench my jaw to avoid moaning. I watch her do it. I see her lips on me. I see her tongue darting in and out. Everything is going haywire. My academic brain is gone.

The oral sensation drives me wild, but what especially drives me wild is the sight of her bra as she bobs her head on me. I'm looking down her top. The age lines around her neck, the sun spots on her chest, her tan lines, and that thin white bra flashing, then not flashing, as she moves.

I tap her shoulder.

She looks at me.

I mouth the words, 'I'm going to cum.'

Mom nods and keeps going. I close my eyes, breathe, then my fluids gush. I clench my jaw to be quiet about this and I'm thankful for the loud engine covering my vocal sounds. My orgasm is ferocious. She doesn't move her lips away. Her tongue keeps going. She keeps on sucking and slurping.

When I hear shuffling noises, I open my eyes and see mom moving away and sitting upright on her seat. To my surprise, there isn't a stain on me or the seat. The seat remains dry. My thighs are spotless and my sexual parts have only mom's saliva.

She swallowed. Every. Single. Drop.

I look at her, she's looking forward on the road, then she wipes her mouth with the back of her hand. All clean, like nothing ever happened. In a single morning she's sucked and swallowed both of us. I can only imagine what's going through her mind.

"Can we agree this is the family secret?" she asks.

It's an open-ended question to Billy and myself. Awkward silence follows. What's anyone supposed to say to that? We've both been sucked off by mom.

xxx

After lunch, mom says she has a final surprise for us. A new outfit, an experimental one she's conjured up while on the road. I'm behind the driver's seat waiting for mom. I'm sure Billy is wondering what kind of sexual games mom has in store, but it's funny, neither of us have discussed the backseat thing.

"She's coming," Billy says.

We watch the bathroom door open and mom peeks her head out.

Then she walks briskly through the parking lot wearing a necktie, thick framed glasses, and high heels -- that's literally all she's wearing. I've seen plenty of her risque photos from her younger days, along with the occasional nipple which pokes out, but this is my first time seeing her full nude. And it's stunning. Long dancer legs, tan lines from all the sunbathing she does, and a tight body from pilates which she never stops talking about. Her small breasts bounce as she rushes to the car. She's almost running in those heels.

No one at the nearby diner sees her -- at least that I know of.

Once she gets into the backseat she slams the door shut.

"Go! Go! Go!"

I fire up the engine and pull out of the parking lot. For the first time she's got me speeding and we're all pumped full of adrenaline.

"What are you doing!?" I ask.

"Insurance agent. Consider this a field visit and appraisal."

"And your clothes?"

"Oops. Forgot them in the bathroom. Do you mind?"

My foot is still pressing the gas, desperate to get away from that rest stop in case anyone saw her like that. I'm dying from second-hand embarrassment. Every so often I check the rearview mirror to admire those delicious pink nipples and amazing tits. Billy is quiet, drooling over mom's nude body, no doubt conjuring another erection to feed mom.

Two hours later, we take a detour and stop on an empty road where mom's high heels are planted on the asphalt and she's bent over the backseat, pussy at the doorway, and Billy is fucking her from behind. The highway is empty in both directions and mom had chosen this route on purpose. Heat shimmers. Mom still has the necktie and glasses, fully committing to the gimmick of being our insurance agent. I suppose this is her way of making sure we're playing by the rules.

I snap pictures with my phone. Ever the model, she poses like her glory days.

Billy holds her hips with one hand, the door frame with the other, and he's fully concentrated on what he's doing, which is giving mom the experience of a lifetime. Mom is crying out in pleasure while being pounded, the car rocks side to side from the heavy thrusts. Her glasses slip down her nose and she fixes them. The necktie hangs and jumps. And her small tits sway back and forth with erect pink nipples.

I'm taking more pictures from different angles and mom is quite the exhibitionist, posing for me, even winking at the camera through my brother's hard pumps rocking her body. I'm fixated on the image of mom's butt cheeks clapping and making slapping noises from Billy's thrusts. We'll never be the same again, as a family, I mean. That's long gone. But this is something different. Better? I don't know. The only thing I know for sure is that mom is about to squirt and my underwear needs to be changed from all the wetness.

Her pussy gets filled with cum as Billy grunts and she orgasms at the same time. Mom's pussy is right around the door frame and fluids leak onto the side of the road. The dark asphalt gets droplets of her orgasm like it's raining on a sunny day. A mixture of her clear squirt with Billy's thick white ejaculation mixed in. It also runs down their legs. They're both making noises. Billy groaning and mom's feminine cries.

When he finally eases his cock out, it glistens with fluids and it hangs soft, totally spent. Mom's pussy is a dripping wet mess that's used up and stretched out. She stands upright, breathing heavy, beads of sweat on her chest, and she reaches down to touch her leaking pussy and she tastes it. She doesn't say anything, just notes the taste. Her lips smack together with cum in her mouth. Then she fixes her glasses like she's actually an insurance agent doing an appraisal on the fuck session she got.

Nobody talks for a long time after. Billy fixes his outfit and mom bends down to pee near a bush, letting globs of thick white cum flow out of her. The last thing she wants is to stain her car. Mom intends on staying naked, getting in the backseat while Billy gets in the driver's seat.

Before I get in the backseat with mom, I point my camera phone at her. She knows the assignment. She knows I want her to pose like she did in that famous car portrait decades ago. She knows how much I love that picture. So she strikes a similar pose. The door is open, she's sitting in the backseat and puts one foot on the ground and has a seductive look on her face. Unlike that old photoshoot, she's fully nude, a well-fucked pussy on complete display. The sun shines on her light brown labia and pink pussy hole.

I get in the backseat next to her. We close the doors. She fluffs her hair.

"Family secret," she says. "Neither of you forget the code of silence."

We agree. Billy drives at the speed limit while mom holds my hand as she recovers from the orgasm. I gaze at her long legs, her erect pink nipples, and I can smell her sexual aroma. She whispers in my ear that she needs to rest first, then she'll go down on me again, wanting to taste my orgasm.

The End

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