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Subject: {ASSM} New* (SandyWho) Making Love in the Mom-Mobile (MF interr preg cons)
Date: Thu, 14 Jun 2001 22:10:06 -0400
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Making Love in the Mom-Mobile (MF interr preg cons)
by SandyWho
-----------------------------------------------------
IF YOU ARE UNDER THE AGE OF 18, or otherwise forbidden 
by law to read electronically transmitted erotic 
material, please go do something else.
-----------------------------------------------------

My family 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 boys are in high school, they don't want 
to be seen having Mom 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 man 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 hidden 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 hidden 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, old 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 panties 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 panties 
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.

--------------------------------------------------
June 2001
SandyWho@slingshot.com
http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/SandyWho/www/
	
	
	

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Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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