The Rambler part 1 - Sex Stories

The Rambler part 1

... the Rambler. * * * * * * * I sure as hell didn't want that Rambler. It was a dorky looking car, that was for sure. I wouldn't have minded, though, if it had been all mine but my father insisted that I could only have a car if I shared one with Mom and after a year, if I didn't have any accidents, I could either buy her out or get one on my own. I was pissed at having to share a car, and more pissed at the car Dad picked out. But wheels were wheels so I capitulated, with as much grace as I could muster under the circumstances. I didn't need to look at the picture to remember the Rambler or to see Mom as she was then. Mom was a tall woman, only a couple of inches shorter than me, and thin. Her face, outlined by dark hair worn straight to just touch her shoulders, was a little too drawn to be called pretty. She would more aptly have been described as a handsome woman. But one thing that did stand out about her was her lithe figure and normal sized breasts that seemed overly large and pert on such a long, slender frame. Perhaps to compensate for her not-quite-there beauty, Mom had a penchant for wearing tight sweaters made of soft material that tended to cling to her breasts, emphasizing their size and perfect form. The picture certainly showed that the way she was standing beside me, leaning in with her head against my chest, her body twisted so that one breast was thrust out more than the other. Her straight hair was unique then, too. At that time, if a woman wore her hair ...

... mid-length, it fell just past her shoulders and was flipped up and out in a little semi-curl. Mom's fell just short of her shoulder and curled in, like a modern cut today. How did it all start? ... What was it? Oh, Yeah. I was arguing because I wanted the car on Saturday night but I had already had it Friday night and all day Saturday. Mom wasn't using it but my Dad imposed his will and said I couldn't have the car all weekend, no reason provided. That was it. I could go to the drive-in in Tim's car for a change. It didn't matter that the Rambler, with its fold-down 60/40 seat was better for the drive in -- how could I explain that to my Dad, especially in front of my mother? Not that we had any dates lined up, but we were always hopeful that we could pick something up cruising the town before the movie. Mom lobbied for me but Dad's mind was set and that was that. That's when Tim phoned and, after I broke the news, told me that his Mom was using 'his' car -- he was in the same stupid car situation as me -- to go to the drive-in because there was a movie on that she wanted to see. Tim's mom knew we always parked his car anyway and used mine. She was a little more with it than my parents. So now it looked like we had to go to the drive-in with Tim's mom in tow. We weren't in the cool crowd at school and this would certainly make sure that never happened. Mom overheard me talking on the phone and signaled that she wanted to talk to Tim's mom. They were friends of course, as many ...