Making Love in the Mom-Mobile (MF interr preg cons)
by SandyWho
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IF YOU ARE UNDER THE AGE OF 18, or otherwise forbidden
by law to read electronically transmitted erotic
material, please go do something else.
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My calls my van the Mom-Mobile because all I
ever seemed to do was drive from one kid event to
another. With two active boys, and lots of team
events and practices, I used to live in my van. But
now that the are in high school, they don't want
to be seen having drive them everywhere. Still,
my van is a great car, especially if you want to have
a nice quite drive in the country with your lover.
My marriage was having problems. We were both having
affairs; however, I knew all about his, but he never
knew of mine. I think it would have killed him if he
had found out I had been seduced by a younger man. I
hate to think what he would have done had he known my
lover was black.
We agreed to take counseling and I committed to myself
to try and make our marriage work. He swore was going
to change jobs so that he would not be traveling all
the time and, most importantly, we were talking about
having another baby. I was very happy, and excited
about trying to get back in touch with the I loved
and had married. I had gone off the pill and our sex
life had exploded. We were acting like newlyweds
again, hoping each time we made love that we would he
would impregnate me.
But before we could start completely over, I knew I
had to call my black lover, to tell him that I could
not see him again. He wanted us to meet at his
apartment, but I had made up my mind he was not going
to seduce me again with his touch and kisses. I
insisted we go for a drive in the country, away from
everyone and, most importantly, away from the
temptation of an afternoon in his apartment.
We parked at a picnic area near a small stream
and walked along the stream banks holding hands. I
told him that I loved him but I had to stop seeing
him. I told him why and how important it was for me
and that I had decided that I wanted another baby. It
was the baby I had wanted to have with him, but he had
run from the commitment.
He didn't want to hear it and tried to kiss me. But I
knew it had to be this way, pushing away I angrily
walked back to the van. There was a slight drizzle
and my clothes were wet by the time we got back.
Sitting together in the back seat, we watched the rain
pass by. Finally, we talked, talked about staying
friends, about the fun things we had done. All the
while, his hands were busy, finding the places I loved
to be stroked and touched. I told him that I was not
going to have sex with him. Of course I was enjoying
what he was doing, but I kept insisting he was wasting
his time. He laughed and asked if I remembered the
time we had made loved out in the open, on a blanket
at sunset and then under the stars? How could forget,
it was the second time we had made love and his sexual
prowess had held me captive ever since.
He asked if I was sure that I didn't want to make love
just one more time? Again, out here in the open? I
told him he was crazy the ground was wet and it was
still raining! "Come on," he insisted, "Didn't you
ever made love in the back seat of your boyfriend's
car?" I confessed I had not.
"Well, then just pretend you are a high school
cheerleader again," he said pulling me close to him,
"and I am that big ol' black basketball player you got
the hots for, and this is your mama's car!"
I was laughing as his hands slipped under my skirt,
and began to remove my panties. I didn't resist him
as he unbuttoned my damp blouse, his fingers teasing
out a nipple from my bra, pressing his dark lips to my
white breast. Soon I was moaning under his touch and
fiery lips. I laughed as he struggled to get his
pants off, his leg caught in the seat belt. But soon
he was naked, his black manhood swollen and needing to
be satisfied. My legs spread wide to receive him, one
was hooked on the head rest, the other around his
shoulder. As he entered me I cried out in passion,
and with every deep thrust of his black cock I moaned
his name and my love for him. His hard deep thrusting
rocked the van back and forth and as I came, my cries
of pleasure filled the picnic area. He came
like a lion, roaring out into the jungle, warning
others that he had just mated, filling his woman with
his hot dark seed.
Exhausted, I lay whimpering, pulsing with every
shudder of our locked bodies. The breeze through the
van door chilled us and we dressed again, smiling as
lovers do. We laughed as we shook off the debris long
buried in the back seat of the Mom-Mobile, French
fries and candy wrappers. I was sure that I was going
to have a bruise on my back from that middle seat
belt. My had fallen out of the van and lay on
the muddy ground of the picnic area. He dashed out
into the drizzle, grabbing the panties, tossing them
high into a tree over the picnic table and then ran
back to be warmed again in my arms. The
dangled there, a lace trophy of another conquest.
We drove back to his apartment in silence. I held his
hand, occasionally pressing it to my face to feel his
warmth, strength, and reassurance. We said goodbye,
but we both knew I could never let him go, that I
could never resist him. I was ashamed of my betrayal
but secretly I hoped his child was beginning to grow
in my womb and soon it would be our baby I would carry
in the back seat of my Mom-Mobile.
A week later that I found out I was not pregnant. I
cried and my husband comforted me. He knew I was
terribly disappointed, he just never knew the true
reason why.
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June 2001
SandyWho@slingshot.com
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