1. The Rambler part 2b


    Date: 11/6/2015, Categories: Taboo, Author: rgough, Rating: 100, Source: xHamster

    continue pressing against her, my bulge worming its way deeper into her softness. I kept my hands to myself and held my ground, even gently nudged further in, while continuing to dry the last remaining dishes. Mom didn't object, washing the last couple of dishes no faster, or more slowly, than she had the rest. Then, after she finished the last dish and to my further delight, she waited for the sink to drain instead of moving away to wipe the counters. I dried the last few dishes as slowly as I thought I could get away with but she didn't complain, using the wet cloth to wipe the sink and counter within easy reach, cleaning until I hand done the last dish. Only then did I reluctantly pull away, when there was no other obvious reason for us to be standing so close together. My groin felt suddenly cold as we parted and the wrinkly indent in the back of her nightie attested to the firmness with which I had pressed into the soft flesh underneath. I stared at Mom's thinly clad ass, admiring the shadowy line defining the division between left and right cheek, even being able to make out through the thin old material where her crack ended and spread like a butterfly at the fleshiest protrusion where her panties likely rested when they were present. Mom stayed still for a moment, as if letting me have one final look before she turned and walked slowly to the table, lifting her robe and continuing her exaggerated gait until she silently disappeared into the living room. She was ...
    sitting on the couch wrapped in her robe watching TV when I finally managed to walk without hurting myself. "Thank you, sweetie," she called as I headed upstairs to my room. "No problem, Mom," I replied hoarsely. I spent the night upstairs spanking my monkey, hard. * * * * * * * We were running down the road in my sweet Rambler, the four of us, listening to the Stones rocking out of the new cassette deck that had replaced my aging 8-track. Mom and Millie seemed to like the music as much as Tim and I, something you never would have suspected if you saw either of these women outside the confines of this car. Magic was in the air, that's for sure. I could sense it in the carefree laughter and joyful appreciation of the great music filling the car as we less-than-hurtled down the road. Tim and I had met our moms at the mall on the edge of town where they left Tim's car and climbed into the Rambler. The moms had said they had some errands to run first. My initial disappointment watching Mom get out of Tim and Millie's car dressed in a light but long, full-length summer coat dissipated once we got underway. Everyone was in a good mood and our moms acted more like twenty year olds with a couple glasses of wine under their belt than two women soon to turn forty. I was high as a kite just knowing where I was going, my mind filled with dreams of what I hoped could happen. I was giddy. We passed through the gate without incident, trying hard to maintain a more somber mood so the attendant ...
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