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With each bump his hardness rubbed against my vagina, and even though I tried to control myself, it was getting me wet. I considered adjusting where I was sitting, but was worried it would embarrass him if I let on that I could feel his erection. So instead, I tried to control my bouncing by pressing my hands down on the seatback in front of me. Yet for about ten minutes, which felt like an eternity, my son's erection, thankfully trapped behind his shorts, kept rubbing against my very wet woman parts and driving me crazy. Finally the road smoothed and now his tumescence was just resting quietly, but it was still hard and I could still feel it prominently, directly underneath my opening. I knew I should move, even an inch or two sideways would probably help, yet I still felt obligated to remain frozen in place. Partly because I was worried I would embarrass him if I moved, but also partly, undeniably, because the position I was sitting in right now felt so damn good. For twenty minutes my vagina rested on his erection, which never shrank, while chatting with my husband as much as possible to distract myself from the awkward situation I was in. Finally I saw an upcoming rest stop and suggested we stop. Just as Alex was slowing down, I felt the insistent flinching of Cory's penis. It flinched three times, each time pressing itself up ever so slightly but still noticeably against my labia. I moaned, unintentionally. Alex asked, "You okay, Sarah?" "I just need to stretch for a bit," I answered, my face burning red at getting aroused from sitting on my son. "I could grab a drink," my husband nodded, as he pulled into the stop. "Me too," I agreed, feeling a bit dehydrated. Once we rolled to a stop I joked to Cory, "I imagine you're dying for a break, too." "No, I've been enjoying the ride," my son answered without implying any sort of sexual innuendo. Truth be told, except for my frustration and guilt, part of me had been enjoying the ride too, but if I dared to mention it, there would be a definite sexual charge to my words, so I remained silent. My face, which was already quite flushed, went a shade darker as I opened the door and climbed out. I'm not sure if my face could get any redder than it already was, but as my son climbed out and stood up, two things were apparent: 1. His erection was poking out against his Adidas shorts. 2. The shorts had a prominent wet spot that undoubtedly had come from me. I turned away and headed for the washroom, mortified that my fluids had soaked into my son's shorts. Once inside, I pulled my panties down and couldn't believe how wet they were. Now I should note I've always gotten wet easily, and I was quite a flooder when I got off. I also had a ferocious sexual appetite that my husband could seldom satisfy... thus I had a variety of sex toys on hand to finish the job he usually couldn't complete. I had a we-vibe, a couple of vibrators, anal beads, a butterfly toy I could wear while I was away from the bedroom, which was currently in my purse, and my newest acquisition, a massage vibe... which was literally orgasmic.