Mommy: A Long Hard Ride

Mommy: A Long Hard Ride

You don’t really know how much stuff you have collected in your life until you move.

With our last son going to college, we did two moves in one. We were moving to a condo only a few miles away, while we were driving Cory sixteen hours to college. Because we had to put all our items in storage, we didn’t get title for three more weeks, we were going to do a two week road trip after we dropped Cory off.

As we packed the car with both Cory’s stuff and our suitcases for the almost three week round trip, we realized we had a major predicament. By the time the car was loaded, there was only room for two people. A driver and someone sitting in the back seat behind the driver.

My husband tried to reshuffle the luggage, but there was simply too much stuff.

I finally suggested, “Cory and I could squeeze back there together.”

“For sixteen hours?” My husband, Alex, asked.

“Well, we will likely have to take more rest stops,” I shrugged.

“Based on your small bladder, that will be the situation regardless,” Alex quipped, always annoyed by how often I made him stop. He was a put the pedal to the metal kind of guy, while my bladder was a stop and smell the roses type of bladder.

I turned to Cory, who was slim like me, “Can you handle sixteen hours cramped beside your old mother?”

“Oh, if I have to,” my son, always sarcastic, responded.

“Be careful with that attitude,” I shot back playfully. “You’re stuck with me for sixteen hours.”

I should note it was a very hot August day and I was wearing a sundress for the drive to stay as comfortable as possible.

We all did one more pee check, which I, of course, did, and Cory and I squeezed into the spot made for one.

Alex asked, using sarcasm too, “Comfy?”

Cory’s elbow poking my breast, I quipped, “Like a cow on a train.”

“Moo,” Cory added, shifting more which led to even more pressure on my left breast.

We were just out of the city, half an hour later, when I said, “This isn’t working.”

“You don’t like being a sardine?” Cory asked, as he stopped reading on his IPad, like I too was trying to do, the kindle app the only app really worth owning.

“Not particularly,” I nodded, as I moved and suggested, “Maybe I can just sit on your lap for a while.”

“Okay,” my son nodded.

I moved onto his lap and sighed, “Now that is much better.”

“Agreed,” Cory said.

“I’m not too heavy on you, am I?” I asked. At forty-six I was still in great shape. I was slim with big breasts, a firm ass and legs. Selling real estate I knew that my looks played a key role in my sales. Sex sells, always has, always will. So I dressed in professional, but sexy business suits or dresses with nylons and four inch heels. My 38d natural breasts always were showcased as I’m pretty sure they helped me close more deals then the actual real estate I was selling.

“No,” he answered, shifting slightly.

As we drove, after a few minutes I noticed two things:

1. Wearing a dress was a bad idea as I was now sitting on my son’s lap, my thin thong the only thing stopping my vagina from being directly on my son.