I hung around in the foyer until mom finally managed to get herself to the door. At that point, I went up next to her and put my arm around her waist, making sure she didn’t fall on her way out. She was wearing high heels, after all. And I could usher her out a bit quicker… Making our way to the car, I hoped she wouldn’t make any more risky comments before we were alone. Fat chance.
“Mmmm… this was so much fun…” she started saying.
“Yeah…”
“I can feel your cum running out of me right now.”
I swallowed and looked around. There were a few people a stone’s throw away, but none of them seemed to be paying attention. I hoped I was right about that.
“Mom, don’t…”
“Don’t whaaat?” she said, provocatively. “I mean, I can feel it running down my legs right now. It’s so fucking hot. You really filled me up. And I love feeling it drip out of my pussy. I like walking around with it running down my thighs while all the people around me don’t have a clue…”
“You are such a slut, mom…”
“Mmmm… I love being a slut… I wanna be a slut all the time…”
Embarrassed and nervous, I walked a bit quicker, nudging her along. Thankfully, we made it to the car without incident. I helped mom in and took my place at the wheel.
As soon as we were off, I breathed a sigh of relief. This was the downside to having a drunk slut mom. She’d do wild things when she was drunk, but she’d say things too. It was like her inhibitions completely vaporized – like she didn’t care about anything. When she got drunk, she didn’t seem to care much about who was fucking her, but she didn’t seem to care whether somebody knew about it either.
Now that we were alone, I relaxed and drove us homewards. Minutes later, though, my pulse started rising again. Leaning back in her seat, mom put her arm lazily over to my lap and started stroking me. Gentle, playful fingers stroked my cock, causing it to harden at her touch. Once it was hard and making a bulge in my pants, she placed her hand over the top and just started squeezing. Gently first, then firmly, then gently again…
This went on. For two hours! At first, I smirked a bit, thinking how funny and flattering it was that my slutty mom couldn’t seem to get enough of me. Then I started enjoying it, getting hornier as she touched my cock. Then I started getting frustrated. She was just touching, kneading and stroking, not doing anything that would actually take it further.
Fifteen minutes into this foreplay-like behavior, I was sweating profusely. My mouth was dry and a fog had descended over my brain so I could hardly see the road in front of me. Luckily, we were on the highway, and I had the cruise control activated. That still didn’t change the fact that I was going crazy, though. It was torture! Half an hour into our drive, I was ready to pull over and fuck the shit out of my tormentor up against the hood of the car…
I started looking for a decent place to stop, but couldn’t see one. I started moaning more and more desperately, almost whimpering as mom kept rubbing my cock. At one point, I wanted to beg her to stop. Then I wanted to snarl at her, order her to make me cum or something… After an hour of this, I felt like I was genuinely losing my mind. Sure, we’d had sex at the party earlier, but that was completely forgotten now. Because she spent so much time building the tension back up in me, I was getting so horny, it felt like I hadn’t had an orgasm in weeks. And we had a whole hour left to go!