Part Two – The long Ride Home
© 2012
Mom wore a white two piece skirt and jacket. The skirt came to mid-thigh and the jacket nearly covered the skirt. The band was appropriately playing the song by 'Cake': "I Want a Girl In a Short Skirt and Long Jacket". Mom was dancing to the music with some fat old guy who couldn't keep his eyes off her long legs and his hands off her well-proportioned ass and her magnificent tits.
Mom knew she had great legs and liked to show them off. That's why she had worn the Lycra/nylon tights earlier in the day. Tonight her legs were clad in flesh-toned ultra-sheer pantyhose; they looked expensive, Italian probably. Being a leg and ass man and an accomplished masturbator into mom's and sis's panties and pantyhose I knew all about hosiery. She was wearing a cerise satin blouse under the jacket and gold jewellery glittered on her neck, ears, wrists and fingers. Her makeup was heavy; lots of black eyeliner and mascara, ruby-red lipstick to match her nailpolish, rouged cheeks and lots of eyeshadow. She wore killer white four-inch high-heels.
The party lights emphasised the red highlights in her lustrous black bob. Mom was drunk again but she was behaving herself; well sort of. She was teasing the fat old guy who was dancing with her; she allowed him to rub his groin on her legs and hips and let him squeeze her ass. Then she forced him to pirouette so that other partygoers could see the stubby boner in his too-tight pants. His face was red, he was panting and sweating. It looked like he was thirty seconds away from a heart attack.
Now that the wedding ceremony was over the reception was in full swing, it had spread around patio and adjoining gardens. I looked around and saw my sister. She was in the courtyard with a guy at least ten years her junior and her long fingers were sliding up and down his thick cock through the material of his dress pants. They were kissing passionately and one of his hands was underneath her bridesmaid's dress and was busy playing with her pussy while he held her close to him with the other.
She leant into the young man and lifted herself on her heels to allow him better access to her privates. They obviously thought no one could see them; secluded by some rose bushes. I was sitting at a small table sipping a drink and had positioned myself so I could keep and eye on my mother and sister both. The young man slid my sister's dress up her long legs; I was surprised to see she was wearing stockings, the dark welt visible as the hem of her dress brushed the top of her thigh. They were black and fully-fashioned; a well as the welt I noticed the stockings had back-seams. Nice!
My sister opened her eyes in mid-kiss and we made eye contact. She smiled at me and winked, then she took the young man's hand in hers, lowered her skirt and led him away further into the dark recesses of the garden. My cock was semi-erect.
"Come and dance with your dear old mom," I turned my head and there was mom right in front of me.
As I was seated, my head was level with her slightly curved belly and I couldn't stop my eyes from being drawn down to the hem of her skirt and her long sexy legs. Her hosiery glimmered in the glittering lights and I wanted so badly to reach and touch them.
"You can can't you?" she said as if reading my mind.
I looked at her quizzically.
"Dance stupid! You can dance with your mother?" she smiled drunkenly at me.
"Of course mom I'd be delighted," I said standing to take her in my arms.
The band was playing a slow song, I could smell her perfume, Poison – may favourite, mingled with the smell of cigarettes and bourbon. We moved slowly and awkwardly for while and them mom pulled herself close to me and rested her head on shoulder.
"I love you son," she said and kissed me gently on the neck.
"Me too," I replied and kissed her hair.
"Nice to see a mother and son showing public affection," Aunty Megan, the not so blushing bride, danced close by us.
The groom made no disguise of the fact that he was enamoured with his new wife's tits and ass as he groped her while he danced her around the room. When they finally went upstairs to their bedroom for their wedding night, I bet she wouldn't even get a chance to get out of her wedding dress before he was fucking her.
In my mind I conjured up the vision of Aunt Megan bent over the king-size bed, her wedding dress hiked up to her waist, her tits hanging out of the bodice as my new uncle fucked her vigorously from behind, holding her by her lacy white garter-belt which was clipped to white silk stockings. She was nearly knocked out of her heels every time he thrust into her and she was squealing with surprise and pleasure.
"Henry! You naughty man!" she squealed in my daydream.
My semi-erect cock had become tumescent and I became aware that it was rubbing against my mother. She raised her head and looked me in the eyes, she smiled mischievously.
"Is that for mommy?" she reached between our bodies and squeezed my cock through my trousers.
"Jesus mom! Cut that out!" I pulled her hand away.
"I don't want my son having a heart attack like that old guy I was dancing with," she smirked.
"Anyway it's just a reaction to a dream I was having. I couldn't get aroused by you; you're my mom for fuck sake!" I retorted.
"But you didn't mind panty-popping me in the car on the way here," she said matter-of-factly and stared me right in the eyes.
"Panty-popping?" I said stunned.
Mom pulled herself closer and put her head back on my shoulder; her groin was rubbing against me and my quickly diminishing erection was back on the way to rigidity. Mother clung to me as we slowly danced; I could feel her thighs and soft belly against my penis as she swayed with the music; her tits were crushed against my chest.
"Panty-popping is what your farther and I did instead of sexual intercourse before we got married," she explained.
"Mom! I don't wanna know about yours and dad's sex life!" I hissed.
"Sure you do son. I wanted to be a virgin bride but your dad was very insistent. I was also sexually inquisitive; a young woman has her needs too you know," she went on.
"Sure; I used to masturbate your father and he used to masturbate me too. But he wanted more"
"Jesus mom; shut up!" I sighed frustratingly.
"So I learned from my girlfriends about panty-popping; they were letting their boyfriends do it to them. I would let your daddy rub his pecker on my pussy and as long as I kept on my panties so he couldn't put it inside me in the heat of the moment, it was safe. We both liked it, especially if I was wearing satin panties. Many a night I came home with my panties soaked in your daddy's fluids; front and back! He liked to rub it on my tight little heine too!"
"For god's sake mom; shut the fuck up will you!" I hissed into her hair.
"If my daddy knew that my pretty pink satin panties were soaked in come when I came home and kissed him goodnight on the cheek, he would have locked me up and killed your daddy," she giggled.
"I haven't been panty-popped for many a year and then my own son goes and squirts on my ass in the back of his sister's car. Now ain't that a hoot!" she laughed wickedly and squeezed my cock again.
"Stop that! And I don't know what you're raving on about? I spilled a beer on your granny ass; that's all!" I contended and pushed her body away from mine.
"You know what you did!" she stared icily at me.
"I know what man-seed feels and what it smells like! You came on your mommies ass and spilled beer on me to hide your sin," she glowered at me.
"Shhh!!! Shut the fuck mom! People will overhear!"
I released my mother and turned to walk away; disguising my erection with the tail of my jacket.
"It's ok son," she called and I turned to look back at her.
