Ash Gets A Ride On Sons Lap

I have read a few of these mom in lap themed stories. I just thought I might enjoy writing one myself: so I did and I did. Don't expect anything too deep and meaningful, it's just a bit of fun.

"Oh for Christ sake Ash, stop bloody whinging. I am not, repeat not coming back out here again just for a couple of items. Look," he said pointing at the dark storm clouds rolling towards them. "It's going to pour in a minute so everything has to be in the car. It's your mother's stuff after-all and you are the one who wanted to come in the first place."

"Yes well I told you it was going to rain but you wouldn't listen. And it doesn't all have to come now. Can't it wait until another time when just the two of us are in the car. Does it have to come tonight?"

"Christ, it's not that hard Ash. Roger, you sit in the back and your mother can sit on your lap," Ross growled at her with finality.

"But Ross, it's over a two hour drive, I can't sit on his lap for that long, it'll be too uncomfortable for him. His, his, circulation will be cut off," Ashleigh protested.

Ross turned on Ash, a look of fury on his face. "Oh for god sake, he's six foot fucking two, you're five foot two, you haven't got an ounce of fat on you so he's hardly going to collapse under your weight. Anyway I'm not fucking arguing any more Ash. I don't care who sits on whose lap but just get in the car before it's too bloody dark to see," he said jabbing his finger menacingly at her.

Ashleigh and Ross Mercer stood toe to toe staring angrily at each other. Their son Roger and Ash's mother stood a couple of feet away watching the scene with embarrassment. They had left early that day to pick up a few valuable items from Ash's mother's place as she was going on an extended overseas trip. Not a problem, the items were valuable and had to be stored. Ross decided today was the day to bring them home. The rain made the roof rack obsolete, so the only way to transport the goods was to put the back seat down flat, pull the front seat forward and lay the back down as flat as it would go. The paintings slipped in the passenger side comfortably but that meant there was no room for a passenger in the front and only one seat in the back.

Ross turned on Roger. "Do you have a problem with that?" he said in a tone that defied Roger to complain. His body language bristling with aggression.

Roger was at that age where he and his father often had disagreements. Roger was a bit of a larrikin and was going through a period where trouble always seemed to be just an angry word away. He didn't want to be there anyway but didn't have a problem with his mother sitting on his lap. Whilst the relationship with his father was strained, he really cared for his mother. "Ah, no, no mom can sit on my lap, it won't be a problem," he said dismissively.

"Ok then it's settled, get in and let's get going," he retorted angrily. They all knew better than to carry the argument further when he was in this mood. He could be an aggressive, abusive and at times violent man when upset. And at the moment his anger was in the red zone; better left alone.

Ash shrugged her shoulders and gave her mother a look of resignation. She gave her a kiss and moved to the car.

Ash Mercer was what some people might call a trophy wife: young, long dark hair, dark eyes, pretty face with a sultry look and a killer body. Her boobs that were the envy of any male, trim and fit body with long, shapely legs. Ross, wealthy through his trucking business had been reasonably good looking when younger but had let himself go. They married young because - well, he got her pregnant at a young age and money can cover most crisis. The contrast between the three of them stark: Ross 37, overweight, arrogant, rude and abusive; Ash 33, gorgeous, happy and friendly and Roger 18 and a strapping young lad never far away from mischief.

Roger put an arm around his mother, gently moving her to the car. "Come on, we'll have our own private party," he said laughing, trying to break the tension. "You get in first mom, it's a bit cramped, lean over the paintings while I get in behind you. Then you can sit back down on my lap. I promise not to scream in pain. Ok?" Roger said chuckling trying to ease the tension. Ash leaned on him and gave him a resigned look. She loved her son as much as he loved her.

Ash doubled over and stepped into the back seat. Roger couldn't help a slight flush as he manoeuvred in behind her. Her ass was virtually in his face in the process, the short skirt showing her shapely legs as she bent over in front of him. She wore a short summer dress which flared out loosely and dropped over his knees and legs as she sat back on him. His knees had some clearance from his father's seat backrest and she sat side saddle across his lap. There was no alternative. He had a moment of awkwardness with his hands but solved the problem by putting them around her waist as they settled into a semi comfortable position.

She was light on his legs and he began to enjoy the soft, warm feel of her body. Roger loved his mother ... which was more than he could say for his father. He held her firmly to keep her steady. As he held her his eyes inevitably dropped to her body, it didn't help that she wore a loose, low cut blouse; the cut revealing her cleavage which at the time was jiggling enticingly right in front of his eyes. He tried to look away but it was impossible not to look. It wasn't the first time he had noticed his mother as a woman. He had been in a fight when one of his school mates had referred to her as a hot MILF. When he explained what it meant Roger took offense. But thereafter he couldn't help but notice her as an attractive woman, especially her full breasts.

"Oh fuck, no, no, no. not now, this is my mom," he thought as the inevitable started. He could feel the stirring in his balls.

He closed his eyes, dug his nails into the webbing of his hand hoping the pain would take his mind off his situation.

***

Ash was angry at Ross' comments. But she didn't let the anger linger for long. It was neither comfortable nor uncomfortable for her sitting on his lap. Roger didn't seem to be having any difficulty with her weight although it was still early. Beside, she kind of enjoyed sitting on his lap having him hold her, he was her son after all and she loved him unreservedly as only a mother can. She relaxed leaning into his body, enjoying the warmth and bonding.

It wasn't a sudden thing. Initially just a feeling, something was different, then with growing certainty she felt a small pressure on her ass and back of her legs. Then a growing sense of anger as the pressure became more noticeable, more defined and she knew exactly what it was.

The awareness formed before the words. A wave of conflicting emotions swept over her: disgust, anger, disbelief, fear. "My god, he's getting an erection, he's my son, this can't be happening," she thought.

***

Roger could feel the blood flowing to his flaccid cock. At 18 years of age the time it took for him to gain an erection was frighteningly short. He could feel his cock stiffening. At first he hoped it would be contained by his jocks but the incessant movement didn't help. Initially he felt somewhat embarrassed as he felt the first gentle contact with his mother's rear end. He knew she couldn't help but notice as his cock continued to stiffen, lengthen and thicken until he knew that she must be feeling it. Then suddenly he had to suppress an overwhelming urge to laugh as he took in the situation.

Ash could feel his cock growing down the separation between her thighs. It was like she was sitting on a lengthening pole, which is exactly what it was. And the pole was exactly where she didn't want it to be.

And if Roger had any doubts as to whether she knew they were quickly put to bed. She drew away from him and turned to face him. Even In the semi-darkness he could see the anger on her face. She punched his chest lightly but firmly and stared angrily at him. 'No,' she mouthed at him, 'no, stop it.'

There was little he could do. He shrugged his shoulders in resignation; a sense of mischief stirring within him.

Outside the storm finally broke, the rain beating down against the car. Ross turned up the radio so he could hear over the sound of the rain and wipers.

"Jesus, do something, move it," she muttered disgustedly in Roger's ear and placed one hand on the back of the driver's seat intending to lift herself off him so Roger could fix himself up. In the process Ross' seat was buffeted around as she used it as a lever to try and lift herself from Roger's lap. His anger flared immediately.

"Jesus Christ, what are you fucking doing," he growled bitterly as he was jolted back and forth.

"Nothing, I'm just trying to let Roger get the circulation back in his legs," she retorted angrily, flirting with the truth.

"Oh for god sake, get your hands off the back of my fucking chair," he yelled at her. "It's pissing with rain, I can't see 10 feet in front of me, I'm trying to keep this fucking car on the road and you're trying to give me fucking whiplash. How is it that I don't hear him complaining, only you? Stop being so fucking childish and handle things like two bloody mature adults. I'm not stopping, I'm not going back. Just work it out between the two of you. Do what ever you have to fucking well do to get comfortable but I don't want to hear any more bitching. I don't want a fucking blow by blow description of every fucking move you make. If he needs some relief then move your bloody ass, jiggle around, whatever it takes, just don't push my fucking seat again. It can't be too hard surely. Just relax and try to enjoy the fucking ride."

Ash was stunned, she had never heard Ross speak to her like that. "Move your ass! Move your ass!" she thought in disbelief, the anger welling up inside her. "You wouldn't say that if you knew that my ass was sitting on your son's bloody erection," she thought. Ash opened her mouth to make a retort but thought better of it. She was embarrassed, flustered; taking her hand off his chair she reluctantly lowered herself back down onto Roger's lap.

It took a moment before her attention was jolted back to reality. Roger's cock was now fully erect. All she had succeeded in doing was freeing it. As she lowered herself down she sat right on his cock, the head poking directly into her pussy. She reacted in alarm, her legs spread in a reflex reaction which had the effect of pushing the head of his cock into the soft pouch of her sex, the gusset of her thong forced into her slit. Mortified, she wriggled to get free. Her hand instinctively went to push against Ross' seat for leverage but she quickly stopped herself. For Roger it was as if he were watching in slow motion. He saw her hand pause, for a moment her hand hovered uncertainly behind Ross' seat, it seemed to stay there forever, he felt her body tense as she realised the situation, felt the small tremor of fear then she slowly withdrew her hand. A few seconds, no words, but a message Roger knew and understood.

There were no conscious thoughts, it was purely instinct bred into men over thousands of years. His predatory instincts cut in and he recognised the move for what it was; she was intimidated and that made her vulnerable. His body was suddenly a boiling mass of adrenalin and lust. Then the understanding came to him and he clearly recognised her dilemma; she was sitting on his cock, the only way she could shift off his cock was to push against the front seat and after the abuse Ross had just given her that was not an option. Up to that point it had only been the thrill of mischief but suddenly it was serious.

Almost in tears Ash made another futile attempt to move free but only succeeded in rubbing against his cock, effectively giving his cock head a gentle massage. For a few seconds she sat in a state of frustration but there was nothing she could do. Slowly she reconciled her situation and with a glare at Roger let her weight settle on the hard length of him. She was thankful that the darkness covered her flush of embarrassment. She pulled her head back and from a distance of inches glared at him. But she quickly dropped her eyes in embarrassment as their eyes met. There was a look on his face that she hadn't seen before, a look that frightened her.

She almost jumped when Ross spoke.

"Fucking country has gone soft," muttered Ross.

"Huh, what do you mean? In what way?" questioned Roger.

"That report on the radio. Bloody politicians, we are becoming too soft to do anything to save ourselves, the county is going to ruin. It happens every day in business. Opportunity! Happens all the time, opportunity drops literally in people's laps but they are too dumb or too soft to take advantage of it. You gotta harden up. It's like a running back in football, you know what you are after, you see the defence spread wide in front of you, a hole opens in the line, if you stop to think the chance is gone, when the chance comes you gotta go hard right into that hole. Too many people are afraid to take a chance in case they fail, and they regret it afterwards. If you want a piece of glory you have to take it, you might only get one chance."

Ash was mortified as she felt Roger choking back a laugh. She couldn't believe the timing of Ross' comments, it was as if they were working in concert. She felt a wave of despair wash over her.

With his father's words ringing in his ears he knew that his time was now. Roger was shit scared. "Oh god, oh god, oh god, please don't do anything," he thought to himself as, with his heart in his mouth he slipped one hand under Ash's blouse and started to gently rub her back. He felt her body stiffen, heard her suck in a breath, but she made no move to stop him. Emboldened and with his heart pounding in his chest he placed his other hand on her bare thigh above her knee. He knew the moment of truth was now.

Momentarily Ash was paralysed, she could only stare in stunned horror at his hand on her thigh; her breathing was hard, short and sharp. Things were getting out of control and it was all she could do not to scream. And she could feel her heart gripped by an iron fist. She was terrified. It was not the first hand to be placed on her thigh and she understood all the implications but this was her son, it was his hand and if she did nothing she knew where it was heading next. For a moment all she could do was stare in horror. She knew the consequences if she reacted or made any protest; her husband would kill Roger. With a trembling hand she reached for his wrist to try to stop him.

She was near to tears. In desperation, she turned to face him, her face barely inches from his, pleading with him. "Roger ... no don't, please, please no," she mouthed the words, begging him to stop.

Then her eyes opened wide in shock as he closed the gap and placed his lips on hers, kissing her. For a moment she was stunned. Then realisation hit, she pulled back, flustered, breaking the kiss. Her mind was in turmoil as she fought to keep her hands from touching her lips, she could feel the softness of his lips on hers. He quickly leaned forward and kissed her again and she could feel a flood of emotion as she somewhat reluctantly broke from him again. He felt and tasted nice.

It was only a few stunned moments but her silence only confirmed her vulnerability.

Ash was jolted back to reality. Roger's hand had slipped her grip and he ran his hand up the outside of her thigh, slipping his thumb under the side of her thong. Inevitably her skirt bunched exposing the full length of her bare thigh. Playfully he ran his hand around the elastic before gently coaxing the side down. She grasped his wrist desperately to stop him. Roger could feel his heart pounding in his chest as he took more and more liberties with his mother. He was now becoming arrogant, sure that the longer Ash remained silent the less likely it was that she would say or do anything to involve Ross. That thought sent his mind into overdrive although he realised there were practical limitations on what they could do in the present circumstance.

Increasingly certain and becoming bolder Roger started stroking the length Ash's thigh from her knee to the loose side of her thong. Her leg was burning from the contact.

Then she had to face a different attack as she felt his other hand rubbing her back. His hand was moving in small circles, increasing in size and moving closer with each circle to her breast. She jammed her arm down to stop him.

Sitting on his shaft, on the smooth road the contact was one of small, continuous vibration and movement. Ash was fighting an increasingly desperate battle. Inevitably as Roger became emboldened he provocatively moved his hand from the outside of her thigh stroking the smooth skin between her thighs.

Ash knew the situation was reaching crisis point. She took his wrist with two hands, holding it in a death like grip trying desperately to stop his advances. For some time he was content to enjoy the situation, taking in her warmth, the softness of her skin and the feeling of his cock head nestled in the warmth of her sex. He knew there would be a reckoning later but for now he was enjoying the situation.

Thus it was with a feeling of dismay when Ash admitted that in spite of her terror, slowly but surely she could feel her body starting to respond to the stimulation in an unwanted way. While her mind and body were being assaulted the gentle vibrations and subtle movements between her thighs were somewhat pleasurable. Slowly but surely she was aware of a warmth pervade her sex and the increasing sensitivity of her clit.

Roger was enjoying the process of teasing Ash. Using his superior strength, inch by inch, he was forcing his hand between her arm and body to make advances on her breast. Simultaneously, his fingers rubbing the inside of her thighs were now barely a tantalising inch from her sex and she knew that if he touched her there he would realise that she was wet with arousal and at that moment it seemed inevitable that that would happen; and soon.

It had been almost an hour since the journey started. Ash had been under almost constant attack and as her arousal increased her will to resist lessened. Her own mind was her worst enemy now. Her clit was rapidly reaching a point of no return. As they went round a bend she subtly pushed her clit down against his hardness, luxuriating in the intense feeling. She pushed down again. He felt the pressure.

"It's not my doing," she thought. "And technically, if I have an orgasm then we haven't actually had sex, so it's not like intercourse or anything like that," she rationalised.

As she pushed down again she knew that it was just a matter of time, there was no way she could avoid an orgasm. She was tired of fighting. It took a few more minutes but gradually she accepted the inevitable would happen. "What's the point?" she thought. "I can't stop him and he's just going to take what he wants anyway." As she mulled over her position she knew she was going to surrender and let him have his way.

When his hand next circled towards her breast she didn't clamp down to stop him. She felt the tips of his fingers gently caress the first swelling of her side boob. As he slowly start to explore the side of her breast she made the final decision to release his other wrist, giving him open access to her sex if he was man enough to take it. She knew that the moment her touched her clit she would orgasm and steeled her mind to make no noise.

Then suddenly everything changed. She almost wept with relief when Ross pulled off the road into a service station for fuel. She pushed Roger's hands away then took a deep breath. Regaining control she was shocked that she had almost surrendered herself. It was only providence that saved her from the most despicable sin. Shame, relief, the feeling washed over her.