>[x] Mom
Kay wastes no time calling shotgun. She lowers the tailgate and gets Lady into the cargo area before hopping in next to Gustav. Which leaves you riding bitch. Rose worms her way into the truck, fighting to get herself through the gap between the front seat and the back, and you follow her.
"Is this seat taken?" Mom asks coyly, patting you on the lap. She's trying to have a little fun with it, that's all -- but it doesn't make it any less awkward.
"Uh, no..." you timidly grunt, looking away.
She slides in and settles her weight atop you. There's nowhere to put your arms, except for around her midriff. She wore an extra-thin sundress, given the climate here; and just like your tee, it's soaked with perspiration. You can feel, through the satiny material, the dampness of her hot skin. And even though you know it's an absolutely horrible reaction... you also know touching a pretty woman so intimately is bound to have an effect on you. You focus all your willpower on not springing an erection. You repeat a simple mantra in your head. Don't get a boner from your own mother's body. Don't get a boner from your own mother's body. Don't get a boner from your own mother's body.
The terrain of Palau's roads is surprisingly well-maintained, but naturally bumpy all the same. Shoulder-to-shoulder with Cerise and her wife on one side, and yours on the other, you ruefully wonder whether you'll ever know peace from cramped quarters again. First the plane, now this. Rose grins smugly at you. Payback for stealing the window seat from her during the flight.
At least it's cool in here. Unfortunately, the rattle of the pickup's half-busted A/C is nearly deafening, and drowns out nearly all other sound. You have to shout just to be heard by the people beside you. You can see, up front, Kay and Gustav talking, but there's no way to hear what it's about.
"I hope we get there soon," you tell Cerise.
"What about dessert spoons?" Cerise yells.
"I said I hope we get there soon!"
"There's probably a lot of dunes! Why do you want to see one?"
You shake your head, and stop bothering.
Rose, chin on palm, watches the lush foliage passing by -- which soon parts to reveal the shoreline far below at the bottom of a hill, with white foam and cerulean waters lapping at the sand. She's not a nature person, but the paradisaical beauty of this place gets to even her -- it leaves her half hypnotized.
Cerise and Galatea are more focused on one another. They're taking full advantage of this trip as a true-blue honeymoon. Gal sits facing Cerise, knees straddling Cerise's lap, and they smile dopily at one another. The smiling becomes Eskimo kissing; the Eskimo kissing becomes actual kissing, and pretty soon they're alternating between deep, loving kisses and schoolgirl-esque giggling. Doing this right next to Mom is a little bit bold. It's not directly lascivious, but it definitely pushes the boundary.
"I'm so surprised, you know..." Mom tells you. "I had no idea that Cerise was -- well..."
"That she's a butch lesbian?" You say.
"Alabaster," she chides. She watches the pair, and seems to approve: "I'm happy that she's happy."
"I am too," you agree. Unfortunately, your genuine happiness for the lovebirds is overshadowed by how hot it makes you to watch your older sister make out with another girl. The soft, plump give of Mom's body in your hands isn't helping things. Don't get a boner from your own mother's body, Alabaster... don't get a boner from your own mother's body.
"Al-Alabaster?" Mom squeaks.
You stare at the balding felt material of the ceiling and the cracked plastic of the dormant interior light. You try to think of something disgusting, but your mind won't focus; whatever you can conjure is replaced in a femtosecond by your acute awareness of the pressure of your mother's butt against your crotch. By the sight of Cerise and Gal brazenly tonguing each other like a couple of sluts. Your breath is coming hot and ragged.
Worse, the roads are getting bumpier the further you drive from town. Mom's body jiggles in your lap. She's jiggly all over. Her tits, her hourglass belly, her ass, her legs... she's so unbelievably soft... and despite the roar of the air conditioning, she's still sweating, especially where your bodies are pressed together. You're sweating into one another. You smell her, your nostrils are full of her unique scent, mingling with her unique perfume; cherry blossoms and musky earth, and something else... don't get a boner from -- too late. Game over, man, game over.
"Alabaster..." Mom breathes.
"I'm -- I'm sorry," You breathe back.
"It's okay," she tells you tenderly. She reaches back and ruffles your hair. "You can't help it. Right? It's a natural reaction..."
You nod, chin resting on her shoulder. Yes, even this part of her, too, is soft.
The unmerciful unevenness of the road is unabated. Mom jostles and jiggles in your lap, her butt rubbing against you like a lapdancer. This is really, really, really bad: you're not just hard, but now this motion is starting to press your joy button. You feel your cock begin to leak precum into your boxers. You try to steady your breathing, drawing your lips into an O, inhaling and exhaling through your mouth. This has the unintended effect of ruffling Mom's hair, tickling her. She giggles.
Glancing over, you notice Gal, with an evil grin on her face, has her hand down between where she sits against Cerise. Cerise has her eyes closed; blissed out. Writhing and sighing as Gal does something even more brazen than kissing. They're trying to be stealthy about it, but you know exactly what's going on. Right here, right beside your own mother, Cerise is getting her cunt rubbed by her wife.
"What is that...?" Mom asks, glancing down between her legs, towards your crotch. She feels it; the wetness of your precum seeping through both your underwear and your pants, against her ass. And staring down she can see the growing wet spot, too. "You didn't -- did you?"
"N-not yet," you moan.
"Not *yet*?" Mom repeats. Oh fuck -- that was definitely the wrong thing to say. You whine, and close your eyes. But the oppressive pressure of her body riding you can't be so easily ignored.
"Isn't Rose taking care of you, baby?" Mom asks.
You nod.
"She must not be, if just having me sit in your lap does -- does this, to you..."
"It's not that," you insist. But a particularly vicious bump in the road cuts you off, as the fullness of Mom's meaty ass bears down on your straining, turgid cock. You gasp.
"What is it, then?" Mom asks softly. But you can't possibly answer. You can't answer for your shame, the fact that having her bounce in your lap would produce this effect even if you fucked a thousand girls in a row before she did it. Instead, she answers for you. Turning her head as far as it will go, nestling her nose against the crown of your head, she whispers falteringly: "Mama's body... does things to you... doesn't it."
"Yesss," you groan directly into her shoulder, holding her hips as tight as you can.
"It's okay," she tells you. She whispers, relaying a secret she wants only you to hear: "It's all okay, honey... your body... does things to me, too."
You almost lose your load, right there.
She kisses you on the top of your head. She goes on: "seeing you with Charlotte... no. Even before that. Seeing you kiss your sister... you kissed her in a way a brother should never kiss his sister, Alabaster..."
"I'm sorry. Fuck, I'm sorry--"
"It shouldn't get me so hot..." She kisses you again. The way she writhes against you definitely isn't just because of the road. This is on purpose. Your Mom is purposely trying to bring you off, to make you orgasm, to make you cum. "It shouldn't make me hot... but it does."
"Mom..."
"Do you fuck Cerise? Do you fuck your own sister, Alabaster?"
"Yes."
She's quiet for a long time.
"I want to see," she whispers.
You cum. You blast thick ropes of cum in your pants, groaning almost loud enough for the others to hear. Mom, sighing, helps it along -- she gyrates and squirms against you, milking it out. She keeps kissing you on top of your head, and you keep cumming against her.