I was 43, and Kevin was 19, when something happened that changed our lives forever. My life as an incest mom began on that memorable day.
Kevin and I both had workweek jobs, but this was a Saturday and we’d been out shopping together. It was a chilly day, and I remember that I had on a bulky knit sweater and a pair of snugly tailored slacks.
We parked our car in our apartment building’s underground garage and walked to the basement elevator lobby, as always, to take the elevator up to our apartment floor. But on this day one of the two elevators in the building was temporarily closed for repairs. The one elevator car still in operation wasn’t keeping up with the demand for it. A small crowd of people were waiting impatiently for it in the elevator lobby. Walking up a whole lot of stairs, carrying loaded shopping bags, was unthinkable.
The car arrived and quickly filled to its capacity. I was surprised at how many people could fit into it. The passengers’ mild protests and squeals of nervous laughter were evidence both of their temporary discomfort and of the sense of fun they found in this forced intimacy with strangers.
Kevin and I chose to wait for the elevator’s next run, and several minutes later we were the first ones aboard. Again a small crowd of people had gathered to ride upstairs. Kevin went straight to a back corner of the car, to make as much room as possible for other passengers, and I followed him. Everyone turned to face the car doors, as elevator riders always do. More and more people squeezed in.
Everyone shuffled backwards in an attempt to make room for more passengers. I moved back until I could move no further. The back of the man standing in front of me was pressed against my front, and my back was pressed against Kevin’s front. As before, mild complaints and nervous giggles came from the passengers as they adjusted their positions to ease the crush of overcrowded bodies.
I half turned my head and said to Kevin, “Are you OK back there?”
“I’m fine”, he replied. “This is kinda cool.”
I laughed at my son’s ability to enjoy our predicament. And then it suddenly struck me that my ass, the ass Kevin had so often praised, was now his to take, so to speak. And I was, so to speak, boldly offering it to him.
The doors closed, the elevator started moving, and I quickly learned a few things about being in a very overcrowded moving elevator. First, the gentle rocking of the car makes the bodies of the passengers move against one another. Second, this involuntary massaging causes the passengers to become sexually aroused, giving the males erections which are noticeable to those in front of them. Third, people of both sexes will, once they get used to this pleasant contact, add to it with subtle deliberate movements of whatever parts of their bodies would most benefit from further stimulation.
I felt the unmistakable growth of my son’s cock, both in size and in hardness, against the stretched seat of my skintight slacks. I shifted my hips slightly, trying to avoid painfully crushing Kevin’s trapped penis by allowing it to nestle in the shallow crease that the pants provided between my ass cheeks. I immediately felt the muscular buttocks and legs of the man in front of me rubbing against my belly and thighs. The raw sexual atmosphere of the moment gripped me. I felt a sudden rush of warmth and moistness between my legs. I let my upper body relax backward against Kevin’s chest. My hair tumbled over his shoulder.