The bet was stupid. "Twenty bucks says you can't deepthroat this whole monster," I'd taunted, palming my thick, 23-centimeter rod through my jeans. My mom, Lena, just smirked. "You're on, little man."

Dad was outside, pumping gas. The car was still running, AC humming. Mom unclipped her seatbelt and slid over the console, her manicured fingers going straight for my zipper. "Quiet now," she whispered, her breath hot.

She freed my dick, and her eyes widened. "Fuck, you weren't kidding." She leaned in, her full lips parting. No tease, just business. She took the head in, swirling her tongue around the crown, tasting my pre-cum. Then she sank down, her throat working, taking inch after thick inch until her nose was buried in my pubes. I groaned, my hands fisting in her blonde hair. She held it, gagging slightly, then pulled off with a wet *pop*. "Pay up," she gasped, a string of spit connecting her lips to my glistening tip.

I handed her the cash. But the game wasn't over. "Now ride it," I said, my voice rough. "While he drives."

Dad got back in. We pulled onto the bumpy back road. Mom, back in the passenger seat, hiked her sundress up. No panties. She guided me inside her from the side, sinking onto my shaft with a stifled moan. Every pothole made her bounce, her tight, wet