Teaching Mum to Drive

"Jamie." She set her cup down, "I did not go to the trouble of reinventing myself just so I could watch some bloke remove his socks and inspect his toenails." She considered. "Now if he were to remove his shirt, that's another thing..."

I looked at her blankly at that, but she just got up, laughed, slid her fingers through my hair to show me she was joking, and left to get changed. That was the second time she'd touched me like that... I shrugged it off.

When she came downstairs again it was like a debutante's entrance to the ball. Her smooth bare legs in white heels were the first to appear, then the hem of a white knee-length pleated dress. As if in slow-motion so that I could appreciate every nuance, her hand came into view, lightly trailing along the bannister. Next, the bodice of her halter-neck dress. Not so décolleté as Marilyn Monroe's, but there was a definite resemblance. Did she pause at that moment on her way down the stairs? Because the moment seemed to stretch more than it should, as if she were giving me every opportunity to capture the sight before her smiling face came fully into view.

"Well? What am I going to wow off? Socks, or shirts?"

I laughed. "Do the Marilyn bit over the air vent, and you'll wow their pants off."

"Oohoo!" she laughed and clasped her hands in front of her, and by so doing, squeezed her lovely breasts together, deepening the chasm between them. She turned her head coyly onto one shoulder and looked at me through smouldering lashes.

"How's this?"

"That's... that's..." I was gasping and grasping for a word, "umm, awesome..." Dick-teasing, sensational, amazing, wondrous, spectacular, jaw-dropping, HOT... "But you'll have to take them off..."

There was a confused look on Mum's face.

"Your heels. I mean your heels... yes, your heels..." Had she thought I meant her panties? In that moment I think maybe I had meant her panties. "You shouldn't drive in heels, it's dangerous. You got flats? Take a spare pair along just for the driving."

"Oh, OK." And she turned round towards the kitchen to bring her other shoes. As she turned, I was half-sure I could detect the exposed swell of a breast at the open side of her dress. I might have been wrong but I think she wasn't wearing a bra.

I went outside to attach the 'L' plates to front and rear. Anything to distract myself.

I did need distracting. But... was she wearing a bra? How to find out? Concentrate! No, not on what it would be like to hold those breasts... and not on if she had taken her panties off... and NO, not on that! Oh God, how was I going to get through this?

I drove us out to Cranford, and because I was trying to steal surreptitious glances down the dress of my mum, who again placed her hand over mine, I think I drove fairly erratically. But that's the one good thing about being a learner driver - people tend to give you a wide berth.

When we arrived, there were already a few cars dotted around the tarmac, each wisely giving the others lots of space. One was hopping along like a frog, another braking with a tortured squeal of tires. In yet another, some husband seemed to be gesticulating wildly at his wife who was slumped dejectedly over the steering wheel.

"Let's, umm, find a quiet spot..."

"Good idea."

We found one. It was along one of the approach strips off the main tarmac, half-hidden between the still waist-high grass and weeds. Mum reached down to slip off her heels and replace them with the flats. She was not wearing a bra.

"Here we go then..."

We both got out from our respective sides, went around and came face-to-face in front of the bonnet. Mum stopped me, grabbed me by my shoulders and pushing herself up against me, planted a sloppy kiss full on my mouth.

She pulled back, smiling, "I just want you to know how much I appreciate you doing this."

I smiled stupidly then continued round to the passenger door in a trance, my tongue savoring the dampness of her kiss and the pressure of her breasts.

Her first efforts were... not a success. We officially joined the froghoppers association.

"Try again, Mum, you've got to sense the moment the clutch is coming into play and at the same time give it some acceleration, otherwise you'll stall." We stalled.

Mum leant her head on the steering wheel.

"Grrr... I'm never going to get this..."

"You will, you will, just be patient. OK. Look, you know what, I've got an idea." And this was such a risky idea...

I told her to get out and 1 went round to her side. Leaning in, I moved the driving seat back as far as it would go, then sat down.

"Maybe this'll work and give you more confidence."

I pushed myself back as far as I could and patted the space on the seat in front of me, between my legs.

"Hop in."

A doubtful look crossed Mum's face.

"What do you mean?"

"You're going to operate everything, but I'll work the clutch."

"Oh."

And with that, she turned round and, pulling her dress tightly around her thighs, backed herself ass-first into the car. Pulled tight like that, it was as if her dress hardly existed and I was granted an intimate view of her tiny lace panties, the crack of her ass jutting up above them. Slowly - oh so slowly but not slowly enough - her one leg reached across me and she sat down, effectively straddling my leg. Wow, she was so warm down there. I immediately regretted wearing my light, cotton shorts. They wouldn't be able to hide any reaction, and reaction there was, as she continued across me by bringing her other leg over and sitting primly between my own. My dick was now being pinned upright into her lower back. Could she feel its heat? Could she not sense its throbbing? If she did, she gave no indication, and even pressed herself further back into the seat, wriggling her bum a bit to get comfortable. I gripped her by the waist, my fingers resting on the material of her dress with my thumbs latched onto her bare skin where the dress was scooped at the back. I leant my head onto her shoulder so I could see what was in front of us and, OK, I admit it, to gaze down into my mum's front.

I was in heaven and I was in hell.

"Right then," I said, pushing my foot down onto the clutch, "first gear, give it some gas...no not too much.." I lifted my foot and we pulled away smoothly.

"Now," I pressed the pedal once more, "into second..."

We repeated the procedure and even moved up into third and fourth, and then the opposite, eventually coming back to a stop in the same place we'd started off.

Mum pushed back into me and reached one arm around my neck. She craned her head and pulled my face towards her and kissed me.

"You're the bestest teacher ever. You deserve a reward." What better reward could I have had than being allowed to press up against a lovely woman, loop my arms around her waist and breathe in her intoxicating scent? I reached up and pulled her hair back and kissed her on the ear.

"That's 'cos you're the bestest pupil."

We both laughed.

"Do you want to try it yourself now?"

She wiggled in the seat again, nudging my dick from side to side.

"Um, no, let's try it again a few times like this, I'm enjoying it."

I had no objections either of course, and so we set off again. The best was when I introduced the reversing manoeuvre and mum had to look backwards over her other shoulder, which gave me ample time to study her over the near side, and note the way her breast tried to escape as she swung her body round and to enjoy the sight of the small mound that indicated her nipple.

Mum was gaining confidence though and, what with continually taking my hand away and then replacing it after pointing things out, that hand had managed to slip itself wholly into the side of her halter top and rest itself softly along her ribcage. Was it because she was so intent on the driving that she didn't seem to notice my hand slip even further inside until it was resting on her stomach and the open palm feeling the rise and fall of her belly as she breathed in and out?

She seemed to be entirely concentrating on her driving, but me, I was now concentrating entirely on how smooth her belly was. I moved my hand slightly and one finger entered the depression of her navel. I think unconsciously I began to move it in a circular motion around the belly button.

"That tickles."

OK, so she wasn't entirely concentrating on her driving. I went to remove it but she brought one hand across and held it firmly in place.

"It's nice."

Was that my permission to continue? She brought her hand back to the steering wheel and I left my hand where it was, motionless. Mum wriggled again and this made my hand slide horizontally across her belly. From that point on we continued in a kind of duality, Mum driving and me sliding my palm across her belly. Eventually both my hands inevitably found their way around her waist and inside her top, rubbing from her ribs at the side, then crossing in front of her and tiptoeing round to the other side. At the same time I was urging my hips forward and Mum seemed to reciprocate by pressing back into me. My fingers turned to a more circular motion and Mum wriggled again in front of me, until suddenly I felt the soft and warm weight of her breasts resting on the backs of my hands.

Mum braked and came to a stop.

"Maybe it's time for me to attempt a solo."

It was a statement, not a question. Had I overstepped the mark? Was this the demarcation line? I extricated my hands from her top and she quietly opened the door, levered herself out and stood waiting for me to get out. I silently got out and faced her. She wasn't smiling - but then she was. She reached out a hand, smoothed my cheek and gently kissed it. Then she took a quick glance down at the obvious bulge at the front of my pants.

"I see you enjoyed it too. We really do have to see about getting you a girlfriend. It's a pity to waste a place like this."

We both looked around. We were practically hidden in the weeds and long grass. People looking in our direction would only see our heads and shoulders and the roof of the car. She reached up with her mouth and kissed me full on the lips. I'd been about to say something so my mouth was half open. A quick tongue darted in, swirled around my mouth and then retreated.

"I told you, twenty years ago I'd have dragged you into those bushes and we'd have only been found a week later."

I laughed an embarrassed laugh, but Mum had already slung herself into the driving seat and sat watching me, or rather, watching my bulge, as I made my way round to the other side, my dick pointing the way forward. I got in. Mum looked down at it, smiled, and, before turning her attention back to the road in front of her, slid her hand across it, squeezing slightly as she went.

"Fair's fair," she smiled, thrust the lever into first, and with a screech of tyres, pulled away. She slammed it into second with hair-raising accuracy and then was already zooming it up into third. I gripped the seat. She was already up to fourth gear in full throttle and was screaming down the tarmac.

"Oh, if this thing had wings..." she laughed and turned her head to find me scrabbling for the ejector release button...

"Hahaha...!" she was grinning all over her face. Then we were approaching the end of the strip. Instead of going down through third gear, she slammed it straight into second and slewed round in proper movie stunt-fashion, then beat the crap out of the engine back to the main gate where she drew in to a perfect stop. She took her hands off the wheel, placed them politely in her lap and turned to me.

"Well whaddya think, teech?"

I allowed the blood to return from my ankles for a moment, then,

"Bloody hell. That was... really impressive..." I nodded and grinned.

"Yeah well, you gave me," she glanced back down at my pants, "confidence."

"Maybe I should take over now 'til we get home? We don't want you getting banned on your first day for doing a ton in a thirty miles-an-hour zone."

She laughed and got out. Once more we met in front of the car. Neither of us thought twice and exchanged a kiss on the lips.

"We've got to stop meeting like this."

On the way home, Mum stretched her hand out again, but not onto the gear-stick this time. She rested it on my thigh close by the edge of my shorts. As I drove I was very conscious of one or two fingers creeping underneath the edge towards my boxers. I changed gears carefully so as not to dislodge her hand. And in order to extend the sensations I was feeling, I slowed down as much as I could without annoying drivers behind me too much. The 'L' plates helped of course, and by the time we pulled into the drive, one of her fingernails was making more tentative explorations along the ridge in my underpants.

I turned off the engine and swiveled towards her. It made her fingers nudge up against my dick. She gave it a quick squeeze and withdrew her hand.

"All that... driving... has given me an appetite," she smiled, "I'll rustle us up something to eat. Have you got time tomorrow afternoon, after I've finished work?"

Apparently it was all stations back to normal.

"Yeah, sure Mum, I've," smiling as well, "enjoyed it too."

"Well then," glancing down at my pants again, "you'd better go upstairs and see to yourself while I put something in the oven."

I raised an eyebrow quizzically, but she just laughed and shoved me out the car door with both hands.

"You think I don't know anything about men? By the way, thanks for letting me play with your, umm, pumpkin, haha." She pranced away. I'm sure she exaggerated the sway of her butt as she did so. Even in her heels it would have been remarkable, but Mum was still wearing her flats...

Shortly after, the bathroom mirror received its now customary layer of cum.

For the rest of the day, it involved us occasionally catching one another's eye then quickly looking away. Moving past each other in the kitchen we sometimes bumped one another accidently on purpose, but made a game of it by exaggerating the swing in our hips. At the kitchen table we sat facing, me with my gangly legs stretched out and Mum 'discovering' them and running her feet up and down them. All this was accompanied by smiles and laughs and good humor. Later, she passed by while I was reading and yet again stroked through my hair.

It would be an understatement to say there was 'something in the air' that day.

"What's a catalyst?" she asked suddenly.

"Let's see. Well, it's something which provokes a chemical reaction between two things that wouldn't normally react with one another, but remains unchanged itself at the end of the reaction."

"Oh." A pause. Then, "Like a Ford Focus maybe?"

I put one finger to my lips and looked thoughtful. "Um, could be... or a pumpkin, maybe..."

She laughed, reached down and kissed me tenderly on the forehead.

"Goodnight then, Jamie, I think we've both had a... hard day. I'll see you tomorrow after work. You'll pick me up?"

"Sure. Goodnight, Mum."

That night the bathroom mirror was spared yet another drenching, but only because whole wads of tissue got a good beating and I later disposed of the pile down the toilet bowl.

Something had to give.

...

Next afternoon, I drew up outside the Health Centre just in time to see my elegantly dressed Mum storm out, slamming the door behind her. Even from fifty yards away I could see the anger suffusing her face. She slung her bag over her shoulder and strode like a wounded lioness on a revenge mission over to the car. She wrenched the door open and flung herself into the seat.

"Just drive, Jamie"

"OK. Do you...?" I thought to ask the question but left it unfinished as she sat there with her arms tightly crossed and her fists clenched. Should I tell her she hadn't put her seatbelt on? No, better not...

So I drove out towards Cranford. On the way there, Mum's mobile suddenly trilled a strangely upbeat light melody. She glanced at the number and her face visibly relaxed.

I pulled the car over to the verge.

"Hi Dianne...yeah...yeah... I couldn't believe... yeah, that toe-rag, I just couldn't believe it... no, there's no other word for it, he's a total cunt. You WHAT?? In the nuts?? Hahaha... good job he works in the Centre then so he could get first-aid... personally I'd have slammed the door shut in his face and told him to come back tomorrow. I take it he won't be in tomorrow then? ...yeah, that'll teach him all about trauma... yeah... no, I'm with Jamie in the car... mmm, he is, isn't he?" She glanced at me, smiled, reached over and squeezed my hand softly. "Yeah, I'll tell him from you... well, not in those words, haha...Dianne, just...thanks for watching my back OK?... yeah, love you... see you tomorrow then, 'bye."

She clicked off.

"Dianne thinks you're the hottest thing on two legs. Well, she didn't say that exactly, but you get the drift..."

I looked suitably pleased.

"So Doctor Phil got kneed in the nutsack then?"

"Yeah, he deserved it. He started pawing me all over at work, wouldn't lay off. We should have put him on a fucking leash, the bugger..." I hadn't heard this kind of language from Mum in a long time - I don't think I'd ever heard it. I was discovering a whole new side to her. In fact every day seemed to be bringing out a new side to her.

"At least now he can probably be used as a stand-in for the real Doctor Phil..."

"Oh, why's that?"

"'cause when he started groping me I yanked his hair out..."

"You did what??"

"Yeah, turns out it was some kind of toupee..."

The two of us burst out laughing, tears rolling down our cheeks. I held Mum in a tight embrace. We laughed into each other's hair. We hugged until it hurt. We kissed. And we kissed again. Then we pulled apart. I kept my hand on her cheek, smoothing the hair away from her face and, with my thumb, wiping away the tear-marks which had smudged her makeup.

"Nobody should ever hurt you, you're too lovely a person...I won't let them hurt you."

The tears welled up in her eyes again and we were embracing all over again. I stroked her hair, I stroked her back, I stroked her cheeks, I stroked her neck, I licked around her mouth, then she'd opened her mouth and our tongues began their own version of stroking one another.

Coming out of our embrace, I think we suddenly realized we were parked on a main road, and passers-by seemed to be looking at us as if to infer, 'go get a room'.

I turned in my seat. "Let's drive... and, oh, put your seatbelt on?"

She did so obediently, and we pulled out into the lane, hand-in-hand.

We reached Cranford and instinctively I turned into our secluded little road off the main tarmac.

"Well then, Mum..."

"Call me Jean..."

"No..." Her eyes opened wide.

"No?"

"No. Can I call you Jeanie?"

She laughed. "Of course, Jamie. 'Jamie and Jeanie', I like that..."

"So do I."

We were at a metaphorical crossroads. And the lights had just turned green.

"You want to drive?" I began opening the door.

"Wait."

She got out and came round to my side.

"Push the seat back."

I did so, and she turned around and backed into the car as before. This time though she did it even more slowly and more blatantly. She flipped her dress up at the back, exposing her cheeks bursting out of her miniscule, lace-edged panties, then lowered her butt onto my leg and rocked on it from side to side for a few moments. As she brought herself over my leg and onto the seat, she raised her dress even higher and spread it so that my legs were completely covered. She smiled at me over her shoulder. Her bum was positioned even further back than before, and she lifted herself and then relocated so the ridge of my cock was along the groove of her panties. My legs were tight against her bare legs.