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            K R I S T E N' S    C O L L E C T I O N
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The Perfect Storm
by J.E.Ashbourne (jennifereliseashbourne@yahoo.co.uk)

***

A Mom and son are stranded in a car in a blizzard 
have to conserve heat. One thing leads to another... 
(F/m-teen, ped, 1st)

***

If you put me in an interrogation room with good 
cop/bad cop I still couldn't tell you how I let this 
happen. It was Christmas and I was driving up to 
Vancouver with my son, Brett, on our way to meet up 
with my husband, Brett's dad, Jerry. I have an old VW 
Bug – you know, like Herbie – and it's pretty 
dependable. Except we got caught in a blizzard and I 
couldn't see a thing with all the snow falling. So I 
pulled over to see if I could figure out if we were 
on the right road. 

Brett's pretty good at map reading for a 13-year-old 
boy, and he's usually my co-driver on our journeys. 
He kept telling me we were on the right road, so once 
he showed me on the map where we were it was just a 
matter of keeping going. But that was the problem. We 
were in snow two feet thick and still falling 
heavily. We couldn't get any grip on the road, well, 
because there was no longer any road, just snow and 
ice. We slid this way and that and then just stopped. 
That was it, we weren't going anywhere.

The road we were on was just empty of other traffic, 
so we were on our own. And between the mountains and 
the blizzard there was just no signal on either of 
our cell phones. We sat there and I started to fill 
up with tears.

"It's okay, Mom," said Brett, "just keep the motor 
running. I'm gonna dig a trench to make sure the tail 
pipe doesn't get covered with snow and we end up 
gassing ourselves." And like a boy scout he was out 
digging and returned all flushed and sweaty, covered 
in snow.

"You'd better get those wet clothes off. The sweat 
will cool and make you colder." I think I'd seen that 
on some survival show.

As Brett stripped down I really noticed for the first 
time exactly how much he had grown and developed in 
the last year or so. His torso was taught, I noticed 
a four pack threatening to become a six pack, 
beautifully squared shoulders and finely shaped 
biceps and forearms. Even his legs, usually scrawny 
in boys in their early teens, were muscular and 
shapely from all the long distance track he did. And 
I couldn't help noticing the bulge in his boxers. 
Nice size for thirteen, I remember thinking. 

Well, he changed sure enough. We had plenty of 
clothes with us. We also had sleeping bags because we 
would have been in Jerry's boss's log cabin and we 
knew it could get cold up there despite a roaring log 
fire. Nothing was coming up the road. The radio was 
just screeching and squealing, so I left the heater 
on with the engine running. Night was drawing in and 
I knew it would be getting a lot colder.

As the darkness descended I turned to Brett finally 
and said, "We had better sleep together on the back 
seat, to conserve body heat." Brett understood 
entirely, he's a very level headed boy, but I could 
see he was a little uncomfortable with the idea.

I climbed over onto the back seat first, and Brett 
climbed over after me. We zipped two sleeping bags 
together and both awkwardly got into it. I'm still 
about a foot taller than Brett, so I lay down first 
up against the back seat. Then he lay down in front 
of me and I held him close, and we managed to get 
Jerry's sleeping bag over us both. We were snug and 
warm, for now. I switched off the light and we 
settled down to a night in pitch darkness.

After a couple of hours I finally fell asleep, and 
Brett seemed very still, so I guessed he was asleep 
too. I woke to Brett groaning in his sleep. But not 
only that, my arm around his waist I was stroking 
what was undeniably his rock hard boner. I stopped 
immediately. Oh My God! I must have been dreaming I 
was with Jerry. I felt Brett's hand on mine urging me 
to continue my ministrations. I didn't know what to 
do, but feeling his hardness started to make me 
feeling horny too. I could always deny that I was 
awake, if it came to it. It was half true anyway.

Feeling naughty, guilty, and immensely erotic, I 
traced the outline of his rock hard love tool through 
his jeans. I felt it up and down and I felt him urge 
himself into my hand. The poor boy was having an 
erotic nightmare and I was the cause of his pain. I 
knew I could make this all go away for him, and I 
knew how, but my heart was pounding with fear, like 
it was the first penis I had ever touched. 

I knew it was wrong. I knew I shouldn't. But the more 
he pushed his hardness into my hand the less my 
restraint was holding, until finally I could stand it 
no longer. I traced up to his zipper and gently 
pulled it down. With just a little rummaging through 
his soft cotton boxers I found the fly and reached in 
to pull his penis out of his jeans.

I now had a handful of my son's throbbing meat. It 
was so hot. I couldn't help the feeling of pleasure 
and longing I felt deep down inside me. In all 
honestly, I wanted that hot rod inside me, but I knew 
that was wrong. No, I would just relieve my son's 
night lust and we would both go back to sleep. I 
began to stroke him up and down, gently, feeling the 
soft veiny skin slip along the hard rigid pole 
inside. It was beautiful, and for thirteen he was not 
badly endowed, filling my fist and then some.

He moaned in his sleep and I kissed his neck as I 
started to feel up and down his rod with increasing 
regularity. He squirmed with the pleasure I was 
giving him and I felt his hips give a firm thrust 
forward. I realized he needed to come soon and I 
started to wank him in earnest. 

He moaned and I felt his hand feeling my hip as he 
reached back over me. I was shocked that his teenage 
fumbling turned me on so much, but I loved him 
clawing at my ass cheek and thigh. I could feel the 
fire in my pussy and my lips wet with excitement as I 
crushed into his hip.

I heard his breathing getting shallower and I knew 
that he was close to coming. I sped up my jerking and 
in a deep groan I felt him let loose several ropes of 
thick gooey come, pulsing through my palm and 
bursting out into the sleeping bag, and he was done!

I was still holding him as my logical head 
interrupted. What if he woke up on the cum? What if 
he realized what had happened? There was no way of 
getting him back into his pants, he was still hard, 
but I could do something about the come. I reached 
into my pocket and pulled out a Kleenex I had used 
earlier to wipe the windshield. I searched around in 
the darkness and found the wet globules of pearl jam 
and I soaked them up best I could. I tossed the 
Kleenex and wondered what to do next. He could still 
wake up on the wet spot!

I had not felt this excited since I was 17 and Jerry 
and I did it with his parents in the next room! I 
knew I had to swap places with my son, so I gently 
eased over him, only minorly disturbing his perfect 
rest. 

He half looked at me and then closed his eyes once 
more. Now I was in the wet spot. I could smell the 
strong bleach smell of teenage boy cum wafting up my 
nostrils from the heat below, and I couldn't resist. 
I rubbed my fingers in it and brought them to nose, 
inhaling deeply before licking my finger tips and 
tasting my own son's seed!

That's when I realized that Brett's boner was now 
pressed firmly into the butt-crack of my own jeans. 
Oh no. I reached behind me and there it was, as solid 
and soft as ever, insistent upon my ass cheeks. And 
here's where it all went horribly wrong, because I 
was so turned on it was unreal. I unbuttoned my jeans 
and unzipped them, feeling inside my now soaking wet 
panties to tease my aching pussy. But I couldn't 
reach properly, and it was torture!

Very, very slowly, I hooked my thumbs into the waist 
band of my jeans and panties, and raising my knees I 
pushed them down my legs to gather at my ankles. I 
could now feel my son's erection pressing between my 
bare ass cheeks and it was too much! I opened my legs 
as wide as the sleeping bag would allow and started 
to rub my pussy with more passion than I can 
remember. I was so turned on; I was a slurry of 
juices below, between the silken purse. But he was so 
close!

I reached around, and held him in my hand again. And 
this time I ran his teenage glans up and down the 
crack of my ass. Instinctively he thrust forward, 
partially pressing into my cheeks. I could stand it 
no longer, and I pushed him underneath me so he 
pressed hard up against the lips of my pussy. 

I gently rolled along his shaft, coating it with my 
lucid sheen. And then the Devil coached my lust and I 
pressed his helmet to my juicy hole. He needed no 
second invitation, and together I pressed onto him 
and he pushed into me. It felt like Heaven!

He started to move instantly, and I coaxed and 
coached his rhythm as he held my hip and started to 
bump his groin into my soft firm ass. He seemed to 
grow even bigger inside me as he built up to ramming 
speed. His hand moved up to my breast and I 
unbuttoned enough to stuff his hand inside and feel 
my naked breast, itself pulsing fiery torment, 
nipples so hard and sensitive that every touch gave 
me more thrills.

We were fucking! There were no two ways about it! My 
son was fucking me! – And it was so hot I just 
started cumming and cumming. I stifled a shriek each 
time I gripped his pistoning tool, until finally I 
felt him try to ram it so far up me I thought it was 
going to come out of my mouth! He stopped suddenly, 
gripping me as he held deep inside me and I felt him 
pumping one, two, three, four shots of hot jelly 
inside my sopping slot.

I breathed out slowly, trying to catch my breath. 
"What do I do now?" – I remember thinking. But then I 
heard the most erotic words I've ever heard in my 
entire life. "Mom, that was amazing!" Soft, solid 
spoken words at full volume – in my son's voice. I 
didn't know what to say. My son's rock solid cock was 
still inside my swimming pussy. I gripped his cock 
inside – I have excellent control – just to let him 
know I had heard him.

I was on the verge of apologizing and begging his 
forgiveness, when I closed my eyes and felt what my 
body was telling me. I leaned forward a little and 
then eased myself off his rigid tool. He was almost 
all the way out, when my heart fluttered with the 
next step, and I pushed back onto him. He filled me 
up again and I felt his hand on my ass as he pushed 
me forward and off him.

"Oh my goodness! Have I gone too far?" I thought. I 
could feel him fumbling with his clothes behind me. 
He was getting dressed. But then I felt his wet 
cockhead nudging my butt cheeks and pushing under to 
easily enter my lucid peach, and when he was fully 
inside me I could feel the bare skin of his thighs 
and torso as he pressed close. We both struggled to 
get me out of my remaining clothes, and then we made 
love again.

We made love all night. I looked into my little boy's 
eyes as I pushed myself down, enveloping his boyhood 
with my womanhood, his childhood with my motherhood. 
Deep, to the hilt, his rigid tool and my dripping 
fire. I watched his face as he thrust his meat down 
into me, dripping sweat down from his sweet young 
face. 

I watched the blissful release as he came inside me 
and collapsed on top of me, mingling with my breasts, 
his face pressed into them as he regained his breath, 
toying with my nipples absent-mindedly with a curious 
finger or his errant tongue. His pubescent ardor was 
a breath of fresh air. And his young male sexuality 
was unleashed in the back on a Volkswagen Bug in a 
blizzard. And every time we got cold we would just do 
it again. It was the best sex I had ever had.

The blizzard subsided and we watched the sun come up 
over the hills. We got dressed just in time to be 
rescued by a snow plough that pulled the car out of 
the ice and we followed him the next thirty miles, 
just smiling at each other, sometimes laughing at 
what had just happened. When we got to Vancouver we 
went back to Mom and Son. 

My husband knows nothing about it, but with him away 
a lot I can't help thinking I won't be quite so 
lonely from now on. It's wrong, of course, but that's 
what makes it so right.

The End

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The author does not condone child abuse, this story is 
meant as an erotic fantasy not depicting anything in 
real life. Anyone acting out such scenarios in "real 
life" can look forward to many unproductive years 
getting it up the butt by a fellow convict in their 
local prison system.
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Kristen's collection - Directory 81