Backseat Fun & Games

She could see the hurt on his face when she brought up Katie and intuitively knew, as only a mother would, her baby boy needed both love and comfort to ease his aching heart. And by God she would be there to give him plenty of both in untold abundance if need be.

The one thing she would not think about, although it was nagging at the back of her mind, was how their kiss made her feel. The simple fact was it took her breath away, while having the dual effect of causing her heart to race long after their lips parted.

She took another large sip of the Jack and Coke and once again cursed silently, wondering why he hadn't returned. Jimmie possessed a poor sense of direction, this she knew, so it was not hard to imagine him wandering around on the side of the hill lost in the dark.

Lost and afraid and wanting his mommy. Somehow the whole idea of Jimmie wanting his mommy gave her butterflies. She tried to ignore the feeling as she peered out the window in the darkness hoping to see him come into view.

Then it hit her. If he was wandering around in the dark searching for the car maybe this would help. Starting up the car, she flashed the lights several times, before leaning on the horn.

Lucky for Jimmie, although he veered off course, he was not so far off course where he couldn't both hear, and then see, the car's flashing lights some distance away to his right.

Relieved, he adjusted his course but not his speed. Instead of slowing down, he actually started to jog faster as the rain was really coming down now. He was tired, cold and frustrated and wanted nothing more than to get back to the warmth of the car and his mother.

His jog turned into a run. An ill-advised run as he recklessly, about ten yards from the car, tripped over a large rock, taking a nasty tumble to the rocky ground where he gashed his head on the side of a large boulder.

Cursing loudly, hoping his mother didn't see his prat fall, he picked himself up.

It proved to be a forlorn hope as his mother was, in fact, watching him approach the car before taking his tumble. She reacted by dashing out of the car and into the pouring rain. Slinking an arm around him, she helped her dazed son limp the last few yards back to the car.

A minute later, he was resting painfully in the back seat, stretched out on one of the blankets she placed across the spacious seat. She cranked up the car heater-- full blast-- in a vain attempt to ward off the chills from their rain soaked clothes.

Jimmie was in some serious pain as he tried to relax in the back seat while Ellen was in the front seat, tearing through the first aid kit looking for the bandages she apparently forgot to pack. She was worried about the blood trickling out of a ragged gash along the top of his forehead.

Before ordering him to lay down in the backseat she told him to strip out of his wet clothes since they were only serving to make him colder. He half followed her advice, taking off shirt and using it to dab at the cut on his forehead oozing blood.

While not finding the bandages, she was able to locate a bottle of aspirin. She shook two out in her hand and ordered him to wash them down with the coke which she-- without telling him-- added a generous amount of whiskey to. She hoped between the whiskey and the aspirin it would help deaden the pain to a manageable amount.

She was just about to climb in the backseat with him when he finally spoke up. "Hey Mom, you might think about turning off the car and saving the gas. It's probably only going to get colder as the night goes on you know."

"Yeah, I suppose you are right, hon," she replied in a bit of a daze herself as the reality began to set in they would, in fact, be spending the night here.

After taking a big swig of his drink to wash the two aspirin down, he nearly spit it out. "Jesus Mom!!" He snapped at her maybe more harshly than he meant. "You added the whiskey to my drink?"

Not at all concerned with his sharp tone, she only laughed. "Remember I spilled my drink all over myself when you crashed the car so I took the liberty of turning your drink into our drink and adding some of the whiskey to it."

"Yeah, but you could have, at least, warned me!"

"Now what fun would that have been," she answered while reaching out and ruffling his hair a bit.

Although the whiskey caused him to wince initially, he liked the warm, fuzzy feeling it was now giving him so he took another large swallow of his drink before handing it back to her.

"Just holler if you start to get cold," she told him after turning off the car. "Maybe when can just turn the car on and off for a bit during the night to stay warm."

"Mom, don't worry about me being cold. I can handle it. You are the one I'm worried about. I mean, look at you, you are shaking like a leaf. Forget me and wrap yourself up in one of the blankets."

"Not a chance am I going to forget about you. We have to get that cut on your forehead to stop bleeding and then apply some ointment to it. Now hush up and let me take a look at it."

Jimmie, playing the role of concerned son to the hilt, wouldn't hush up though despite her admonishing him to do so. "But Mom you are freezing for God's sake. Your clothes are soaked, first from the drink and then from the rain."

"Well I had to get the stuff out of the trunk, hon." Feeling playful she then added, "You know before going back out into the rain to come to your rescue."

Deciding to ignore her playful comment he snapped back, "You're not fine. I know how you easily get cold."

"Ok fine, yes I am freezing especially since we turned the heat off."

"So turn it back on."

"Honey you just told me to turn it off. Remember, not much gas left and we will be here all night. Better conserve what we got. The night will only get darker and colder I'm sure."

"Fine, but I am going to wrap you up in this blanket first and then you can-" He actually started to raise up, intending on wrapping a blanket around her, by force if necessary, if she wouldn't listen to reason, but she cut him off sharply, "Jimmie, wrapping me up in the stupid blanket when my clothes, especially my blouse, is soaked won't help that much."

Jimmie hesitated, not sure if he should make the suggestion but in the end he supposed the whiskey infused Coke gave him the reckless courage to make it.

"So take your stupid wet clothes off just like you told me to take my wet clothes off."

Ellen, while she secretly loved how he was being brave enough to make such a bold suggestion, decided for the moment to ignore it. Instead, she flipped the overhead dome light on bathing the interior of the car in a faint light while wondering if he would continue to press for her to remove her clothes.

She positioned herself on the edge of the seat next to him before taking the white button up shirt out of his hand he was using as a makeshift bandage.

Looking at it, it was covered in dirt stains, she snapped at him. "What are you using this filthy thing for as a bandage. Are you trying to get your wound infected, Son."

"Well you could not find one and I was bleeding. But forget that, Mom did you hear what I just said?"

"Yes," she answered simply. She gave him a sly little grin before she added, "You desperately want your mother to take her clothes off, but, of course, why should I take your advice when you have not followed mine as I see your pants are still on."

"I took off my shirt and shoes off. That was enough I thought."

"It's a start, but your pants are a muddy mess and they are wet too. And look, they are messing up the clean blanket, but more important, how can you get really warm when your still have your wet pants on, Jimmie?"

"So I have to take my pants off too?" he replied diffidently.

"Yes of course," she barked back at him in a voice strained with exasperation. "Jimmie, this is no time for modesty. Remember I am your mother so there is no need for this shy act around me, Son. Besides I will put the blanket back over you so you have nothing to worry about."

"Then you first, Mom. Like you said it's no time for modesty. You are shivering and need to get out of your wet clothes too."

"Honey, I have never felt modest around you. That is not the problem. It's something else."

"What then?"

"I'm just afraid of your reaction of what I have on under my blouse and skirt."

"What . . . Hmm let me guess, underwear, a bra and a pair of panties to be specific, would be my guess. Not exactly shocking, Mom." He looked at her before adding sarcastically. "How shall I ever recover from the sight of that!?"

"Honey stop . . . I am being serious. You are right. I am wearing a bra and panties, of course, but not my usual style I guess you would say. I am afraid of what you might think."

"All I am thinking is you are freezing and if you want to get warm you are going to have to strip out of those wet clothes just exactly as you told me."

She dabbed at the gash on his forehead making it a point to ignore what he just said, again curious to see if he would push the issue. "I need something clean to get the dirt away from this gash on your forehead."

"That pretty blouse of yours is clean, Mother."

"Yeah, I suppose it is," she sighed. "I guess you are right. Maybe I should strip off my blouse and use it to help clean you up a bit and if I am going to take off my blouse I might as well remove my skirt too huh?"

The mischievous look on her face make him wonder if she was wholly serious but when she started to unbutton her blouse—he had his answer.

After undoing just a single button though, Ellen started to lose her courage as her innate shyness was asserting itself. Hoping she had the cure, Ellen reached out, snatching the whiskey filled drink, she took a large slug of it.

It worked as the larger than normal drink she just took left her feeling both bold and reckless.

"I can close my eyes if you want." Jimmie offered tentatively as he watched her begin to undo her blouse again with a greater sense of expectation than he should have been feeling.

"Oh don't be silly honey. Just try not to be too grossed out when you see the new bra your mom is wearing under her blouse," she told him in a flirtatious voice.

She was unbuttoning her blouse deliberately slow; conscious of her son's eyes on her chest. The fact he was watching her made the whole act seem almost surreal. She imagined she should feel some sense of shyness, but instead she felt only hope. Hope her son will like the new colorful bra she was wearing.

Just so as to not let her shyness get in the way of things again, she once more grabbed the plastic cup with it potent mix of whiskey and coke and took another large gulp, followed by a second one. The buzz was instant. Incredible. She felt sexy. Invincible even, as he continued to watch her.

Ellen's new colorful bra was the direct result of her best friend Mandy's persistent badgering. Mandy teased Ellen that white was not the only color bra available in her size. Nor was it a sin to wear bras and panties actually all prettied up with lace and ribbons and whatnot.

After months of resistance, Ellen finally took the advice to heart and today, as fate would have it, for the first time, was wearing something a bit more sexy and daring than normal.

As she leisurely continued to unbutton her blouse she thanked God for the copious amount of whiskey she consumed. Being drunk made it much easier than she could have imagined to strip off her blouse in front of her eighteen year old son.

The whiskey was also taking its toll on Jimmie, who did not consume much alcohol as a rule. The two large swallows of the whiskey filled Coke went straight to his head, giving him an instant buzz. If he had been sober, more than likely, he would have made it a point to turn away as she took off her blouse, but he was not sober and he was not turning away.

He marveled yet again at the pure sexiness of his mom. He remembered how he earlier stared at those nice legs of hers so aptly on display beneath the short dark skirt. Now watching her so take off her blouse made staring at her legs earlier seem almost innocent.

"Honey are you sure seeing your mother in her bra and panties won't be like . . ." She paused in unbuttoning her blouse about halfway down, "I don't know maybe be totally gross for you?"

He answered slowly, choosing his bold words carefully. "Mom you are a beautiful woman who should be more concerned about the anticipation your young son is feeling in waiting to see you remove your blouse and reveal this new bra of yours. Doesn't that maybe creep you out . . . my curiosity in seeing what your new bra looks like?"

"Actually the truth is . . . it does wonders for my self-esteem honey."

He said nothing in response but continued to stare as she looked down at her blouse concentrating on undoing the large buttons. Jimmie suspected his mother was undoing her blouse slowly, very much on purpose, if for no other reason than to create suspense.

Her blouse, unbuttoned all the way, but still in place enough to cover the much talked about new bra, left him feeling anxious and curious.

Instead of making a move to take it off, she only leaned over toward him and peered at the gash in his forehead. "Hmm it appears to have almost stopped bleeding. Now we just need to get it cleaned out."

He caught the briefest glimpse of something colorful underneath the blouse increasing his anticipation. "Mom don't worry about my damn cut now. You are still shivering so you had bett-"

"I know, I know, finish taking off my wet blouse," she interrupted him with a playful smile.

She paused, letting the drama build before she got down to it and leisurely began to strip off her blouse. She sighed audibly thinking of how very wonderful it was her young son was so anxious to see his mother strip off her blouse.

He tried, at first anyways, to look away. Tried to urgently maintain some kind of innocence between them but, in the end, his curiosity was simply too much. His eyes shifted over to her just as she peeled back her blouse revealing a beautiful turquoise colored bra with black trimming running alongside the tops of her bra cups.

His eyes drank in every lovely detail of his mom's beautiful new bra noting how the black trim ended in the middle of the soft valley between her tits intertwining itself into a lovely little black ribbon.

Ellen smiled inwardly as she noticed the eager way he was staring at her chest, filling her heart with a tawdry confidence in her own innate sex appeal. But still it would be nice to hear him say aloud something nice about how her new bra looked on her.

Throwing caution to the wind, Ellen went fishing for a compliment or two. Looking at him evenly, she whispered in a cool voice, "Well I guess the eager way you keep staring at your mother's chest must mean your mom's new bra doesn't look half bad on her huh?"

Jimmie understood, with his mother well on her way to being intoxicated, meaning she would be highly emotional and sensitive, he needed to say something nice in response.

Measuring his words carefully, he told her, "I hope you don't mind me staring Mom because, honestly, your bra looks really, really pretty on you and I guess that is why I was staring."

"Ahh sweetheart you really mean that?"

"Yes, seriously I do, Mom."

"I was so worried you would think I looked gross in it or something,"she replied positively beaming from her son's praise.

Now, before she could lose her nerve, she pushed forward with a bold and reckless plan beginning to take shape in her mind.

She wadded her blouse into a loose ball, using it to dab a trickle of blood off his forehead. He winced at the pain of her blouse hitting his raw cuts.

"Sorry honey. Here you do it. Hold it in place as it is still bleeding just a little while I get out of this wet skirt."

She slid off of the edge of the car seat from where she was sitting next to him. Using the back side of the front seat for balance, Ellen managed to wriggle out of her skirt - as her son watched with rapt attention at the unveiling of his mom's delicious ass. This time, knowing it was hopeless to do anything but stare, he didn't even bother with the pretext of trying to look away.

He very much admired the pair of pretty lace black panties his mom was wearing, especially as she leaned forward over into the front seat placing her skirt there, allowing his eyes to zoom in on her delectable derrière like a pair of twin laser beams.

He felt his cock growing hard in his jeans as he eyes maintained a bead on his mother's well shaped rear end. He gripped the blanket, thankful for its protective covering, tighter around his lower body in an attempt to cover his growing hardness.

Finally, after taking what seemed to be forever arranging her skirt in the front seat, she turned back to him and asked, "Is it nice?"

"What . . . is what nice Mom?" he answered feigning innocence. Did she know how intently he had been staring at her ass when her back was turned to him?

"Why your mom's ass, of course, sweetheart. You were . . . ogling it . . . the whole time I was putting my skirt in the front seat, were you not?"

"Mom I was not . . ." His denial died on his lips as she smiled, and then tapped the rear view mirror before whispering a single word- "Busted."

Of course, she saw him looking in the rear view mirror. How stupid of him! He turned a bright red embarrassed by this sudden turn of events against him.

"Oh, look he is blushing. How cute", she said with an unconcerned laugh.

The fact she seemed wholly unconcerned about him checking her ass out left him feeling a bit out of sorts—but in a good way. Jimmie said nothing in his defense, but instead tried to change the subject.

"I think it has stopped bleeding," he told her as he pulled her blouse away from his forehead.

"Let me see." Leaning in toward him, she closely examined the cut on his forehead. "I think you're right. It has stopped so let me get the ointment and clean this thing up a bit."

She grabbed the ointment out of the first aid kit and settled herself back down next to him making no attempt to hide her half naked body. "Now baby this is going to sting a bit. That cut is deep and nasty but we gotta get it cleaned out."

He nodded his head slowly distracted by her pretty bra and ultra-sexy panties.

"Here, straight from the bottle. It will help dull the pain, sweetie." She handed him the bottle of whiskey obviously expecting him to take a big drink of it. Not wanting to disappoint her, he grabbed the bottle and took a large swig of the potent whiskey.

He winced as the whiskey burned its way down his throat, before resting his head back against the seat ready for his mother to give him what he hoped was a whole lot of TLC.

What happened next was like a bit of heaven and hell for him. Hell because the pain was quite excruciating as his mother dabbed at the raw gash on his forehead. Heaven because while she tended to the wound she leaned over him, so very close, allowing him an up close and personal view of her lovely bra.

Finally, she was finished. Looking at him, she smiled. "You were brave, barely saying a word, hon."

"The whiskey did the trick I guess. It . . . you know, dulled my senses, Mom."

"Well, I hope you can feel this." She was acting strictly on drunken impulse now as she leaned in and gave him a nice kiss on the lips.

"What was that for?" he asked while he squirmed in the seat. Between the kiss and seeing her racy bra up close and personal, his cock was not exactly in a "relaxed" state of mind.

"For being so concerned about your mother that you were rushing back to the car and hurt yourself."

"Clumsy."

"No not clumsy . . . concerned. Then again you have always been concerned about my well-being haven't you?"