Vibe–Ration

Jill Strasburg stood in her sons’ driveway and scowled. Her eyes fixed on the object sitting in front of her sons’ garage door. Matthew stood on the front stoop and watched his mother; he knew the moment she had stopped walking from her car to the front door what had happened. He had forgotten and left the bike out. Shit, Matt thought, I should have put the damn thing in the garage.

With a sigh the twenty-seven year old walked down the sidewalk to his mother. He could tell by her expression she was not very happy right now.

“Yes mom” Matt said. “It’s a motorcycle.”

“You know how I feel about these things” his mother continued to scowl.

“I know” Matt sighed. “Look, I wear a helmet, I took every safety course.” He told his mother. “I’m twenty-seven mom, and I LIKE riding OK.”

Jill sighed heavily. She knew her son was a man now. God forbid his physical appearance reminded her of it whenever she saw him. His piercing blue eyes and broad shoulders, along with his strong embrace when they met were constant reminders of the lack of attention her husband had been giving her for almost the last year.

But this…a motorcycle…he knew how much she hated these things. The idea of him riding about unprotected sent a shiver of fear down her spine.

“I see people every day come through the emergency room mangled from these things” Jill said as she turned to her son.

She tried not to stare at his chest as the shirtless young man stood beside her. She had to get a grip on herself, she realized. This was her son for God’s sake.

“Look” Matt said, stepping closer. “The only way to put your mind at ease is to try it.”

“Try it?” Jill asked confused. His nearness made his cologne fill her nostrils. The smell of his sweat mixed with aftershave made her head spin. She tried to clear her thoughts.

Her son reached forward and plucked two helmets from the seat of the motorcycle. He extended one towards his mother.

“Let me show you why Katie likes it so much” Matt chuckled.

Katie was her sons’ most recent girlfriend. One in a string her had changed over the last few years. Each lasting no more than six months at best his mother knew. What had struck the forty-eight year old woman was the uncanny resemblance the last three had to her own self.

All three had been over thirty at least, they all had soft shoulder length red hair like herself, and most important all three had been rather well endowed in the breast department. For Jill, her 38D’s were something she had always been proud of, especially the fact that there had been little sag as the years had crept up on her.

The thought of some woman crouched on this thing, clutching her son from behind, sent a pang through her body. She shook her head to clear the thought, it couldn’t be jealousy.

Matt took her head movement as a continued refusal, but he pushed forward regardless. Leaning in he slipped the helmet over his mothers, head and then slipped his own on.

“Matt…” Jill tried to protest. She watched as he swung one leg over and then flipped a key, the rumble of the engine filling the air. She sighed; he wasn’t going to take a refusal.

With resignation she climbed on behind her son, reasoning a quick run around the block, and then she could restart her tirade about motorcycles. As her leg slid over the seat, one thing became instantly obvious; the short summer skirt she was wearing was not the best choice for a motorcycle. She felt the hem slide up her thighs, and then was startled when her panty clad pussy came in contact with the leather seat.

“Honey…” she tried to say.

“Hang on mom” Matt’s voice crackled in her ear. She looked up surprised.

“Yeah, we have two-way mics in the helmet so we can still talk” her son laughed.

Before she could even respond, she felt the bike start to roll down the driveway. Instinctively her arms wrapped around her sons’ bare torso, as she leaned into him, feeling her breasts press firmly against his back. His scent almost made her head swim again.

As Matt opened the throttle, Jill felt a unique sensation. The vibration from the engine right below their seat went straight through the leather and right into her over heated loins.