Mommy Sits on my Lap - Sex Stories

Mommy Sits on my Lap

... car was parked in the driveway. A rather nice ass clad in what I presumed to be Venosan Ultima brand Leggings was protruding from the rear passenger door. The ample but well-proportioned heine belonged to my mother and it was obvious she had also not taken the manufacturers advice regarding wearing foundation apparel underneath her leggings. The leggings shimmered in the afternoon sun, displaying mom's lovely long legs to advantage. She was reaching deep into the vehicle and her legs were slightly parted, the fabric clung to her buttocks and more alarmingly to the swell of her mons. The sheer, shimmering fabric clung to the cleft of her sex; it was almost like she was wearing nothing but opaque pantyhose, which in a way she was. Typical mom; she had dressed down for the long journey ahead but insisted on wearing her four-inch high heels. I couldn't help but stare and my recently drained penis began to thicken. I shook my head to clear the licentious vision from my mind and walked over to the car. "Mom? What are you doing there; let me help," I offered. Mom eased herself out of the confines of the rear seat and turned around. As usual she was wearing full makeup, mom always wore full makeup, even if she was just heading down to the store for a few grocery items. She came from a generation of women who believed they were not properly attired if they weren't wearing makeup and heels. She smiled and then stepped forward and gave me hug. "Don't worry Mike. As usual, the women ...

... of the f****y have got us all organised," she smiled. She was wearing a loose-fitting satin blouse with the tan leggings and when she hugged me her ample bosom was crushed between us. The scent of her perfume could not overcome the miasma of bourbon and cigarettes on her breath. Our crotches briefly rubbed and I felt quiet uncomfortable; it felt like mom wasn't wearing anything below her waist. It was vaguely erotic but very disconcerting. My s****r Michele, known as Shelly to f****y and friends, appeared from the driver's-side door and gave me 'that look'; implying hurry up and get in, mom's been drinking and we have a three hour drive to get through. "Sorry Mike, but the trunk is full and the front passenger seat is taken up with the garment bags holding my bridesmaid dress and mom's best suit. I had to squeeze your suitcase onto the back seat," she smiled wickedly at me. My s****r and I had a love/hate relationship. We loved each other dearly but we never missed an opportunity to piss each other off if we could get the chance; especially when it came to inflicting mom and her eccentricities on each other. "Fuck me Shelly! When are you going to buy a decent car instead of this tree-hugging, fern-sniffing, eco-friendly, midget-mobile?" I chided her. Shelly was a greenie. Not a hairy-legged, khaki-wearing, femmo dyke. (Far from it! She liked to dress in mini-skirts, killer heels, hosiery and makeup and tease every man in the room at any party she attended.) But she was an ...