It's going to be a pleasant enough drive.

For about three days, they plan on driving straight through with their SUV, stopping for meals and bathroom breaks. The family has done this before—the long-distance is no big deal for them—and besides, it will be nice for the Smiths to spend time with their sons. Ricky who's currently helping his parents pack under the Summer sun. And Mark, unlike his older brother, decided to attend college physically despite COVID restrictions.

Mark doesn't mind how the lockdown has been shaking up his class schedules, but if his parents are visiting him anyway, he said he'd appreciate it if they'd bring some of his belongings to his new dorm room. Lissa is taking care of his clothes while John and Ricky are loading up his computer and other electronics.

As Ricky will admit, it feels nice to do this with family. It's just one of those moments. A moment that makes you feel warm inside as your mom or dad helps carry something heavy, like a box full of books from a shelf into a car. Or maybe a mother giving her son an accidental upskirt view when she bends over a little too much in an easy-breezy summer dress—the skirt five inches too short for a woman so robust in the hips and plump in the butt.

His mom's 'venom-sucking' was almost a week ago now. Ricky hasn't been able to look at Mom's lips the same after that. He's felt the warmth of his Mom's tongue, wrapping around his cock…sucking it. Keeping his eyes low doesn't help either, for reasons currently being brought to light—Ricky is finding it more and more difficult not to choke up when Mom's butt jiggles its way into his face. Now, seeing it bounce as she bends down, revealing a thong that has the privilege of hugging his mother's sweet butt crack, is just making him feverish,

In Ricky's defense, he can't say he intentionally spared her a glance. Even now, it's more embarrassing than anything. While he now perceives his mother's body in a new, sexual light, it is not all-consuming. Yes, the Summer heat is certainly helping stomp out much of that taboo guilt, but given time, Ricky is sure he'll outgrow the awkward situation. He'll return to seeing his mom as just that—Mom—the woman he loves, respects, and admires. Not the curvy, blonde bombshell who has him squirming every time she bends over.

At least that's most of the boxes packed in now. Ricky can finally be free of his mother's ass and pussy-squeezing thong.

"Man," John sighs and glances back at his wife with the last box in hand, "I didn't think we'd take up so much space, honey. Will this fit in the back?"

Mom takes one look at the massive box and shakes her head. "I'd doubt it. We have everything packed in so tight already."

"Right, right… Although, this is a perfect size for the front seat. Maybe… Honey, would you mind sitting in the back with Ricky? Just so we can get it all in the car."

"That's a wonderful idea! It'll be a bit cramped with the both of us back there, but I'm sure we'll manage," Lissa says and starts to climb inside, already dead-set on the idea. "Come on in, Lawrence! Don't let me stop you!"

This is when and where Ricky is reminded—like many times before—that while his family is beloved and cherished, they are all just a tad…strange. It's not that their idea doesn't make sense. On the contrary, it'll be the most sensible way of carrying it all. But still, they're going to be crammed together. Ricky and his mom will sit hip-to-hip, pushed together by boxes and bags. Not the most comfortable way to ride when you're currently grappling with uncomfortable, incestuous urges, right? Or ideal for a three-day extended road trip.

So, how does Lissa decide to counteract at least one of these factors? Why, by stripping off her sundress, of course.

It's no exaggeration. As if clothes are a mere suggestion to the Smith family, neither Ricky's mom nor dad fuss about it. Lissa throws it to the side and sighs, enjoying the air on her sweat-drenched skin. His dad—who he thought to be just as straight-laced as he is—glances back, then just…shrugs and starts the car. Admittedly, Ricky's only been back with his family for a bit. Maybe this kind of looseness has grown to be the standard.

Either way, he's now sitting right next to his underwear-clad mom, bra heaving under the weight of her breasts and her thong hiding his view of her pussy by a mere few inches. Oh, but it only gets weirder from then on. It's a brand of weirdness that he's actually familiar with and usually wouldn't mind at all, except usually, the person doing it isn't practically naked.

Lissa starts to take apart her body like a doll gone mad. Does it clear up space in this cramped backseat? Yes, rather immediately, too. It's hard to take up space when you have everything but your head and hips stuffed under the seat like extra jackets. It's surreal and continues to be so as Lissa nonchalantly asks for Ricky to hold up her detached head…on his lap.

And that's now Ricky's road trip.

He is stuck in a stuffy backseat, surrounded by boxes, sitting next to what is essentially a disembodied ass—swaying and wobbling to the car's motion, and his Mom's head on his lap.

Over the next few hours, Ricky is in a unique state of discomfort. Having his mom's detached head like this is so eerily similar to when she sucked his cock. He couldn't stop himself from drawing parallels and doubted anyone could. Just under her neck, his cock is just waiting beneath his pants, separating it from her lips by mere inches. Even if Ricky somehow grew to ignore Lissa's place on his lap, the booty sitting in the backseat next to him spikes his arousal through the roof.

It's just a casual pair of hips. It's the very essence of a feminine figure, separated from the rest of its body, bounced around by the bumpy roads. The butt jiggles, jiggles, and jiggles, while her thong cleaves between the two cheeks, accentuating just how soft and doughy her rump is for it to be so easily molded by such thin, paltry underwear. So naturally, her hips and thighs accommodate such a heavy, fertile burden—they're so broad, so meaty. They befit a mother's physique; even such a massive, plump ass looks fitting on hips this wide and thighs so round.

The bounce, the swaying, the undulations of her flesh is an erotic dream, and as Ricky stares into its plushness, quaking away on the highway, accompanied by the constant hum of Lissa's casual conversation with John, the urges push aside any attempt at reason. He gets hard right under his mom's neck stump, and they BOTH can feel it pulsating.

Ricky is lucky his mother is such a kind—oddly understanding—and pleasantly naïve woman. "Sweetie…," Lissa looks up and whispers, "Is that what I think it is? What's wrong?"

Rolling through hundred-and-one terrible excuses, he decides that the same lie that started the incestuous truth is better than exposing his unwanted feeling to her.

"W-Well… You know that spider bite I got on my dick a week ago…?"

Immediate understanding comes to her face as she replies, "Right, of course. Is it bothering you, sweetheart?"

He can't believe he has to say this. At least his dad can't hear them whispering. He does not need to be a part of this scandal.

"Yeah, you see, ever since I got bit, I get random boners. I-I guess some of the venom is still in my system, and it's…why you can feel it u-under your head. Sorry…"

"Oh, no—don't be sorry, honey. Does it hurt?"

"…Yes?"

"Goodness. That's just terrible," Lissa grumbles. She seems genuinely upset by her son's discomfort. "Okay, as long as we're quiet, I'll suck out the venom like last time."

"W-What?"

"Shh, sweetie. I don't think your dad would mind if we explained it to him, but it's obvious you're not ready for that kind of talk. So, I'll just suck out the venom. I don't think it'll take more than a few minutes. It'll be just like last time."

"J-Just like last time…"

"Yup, and I won't hear otherwise. What kind of mom would I be if I left my sweet baby boy to suffer like that?"

"Then, y-you—?"

"Yes, Ricky. Unzip your pants, pull it out, and guide my head up and down. My mouth will do the rest. If I had my arms still attached, I'd try to squeeze it out, but this is the best way to keep it quiet and comfortable for you."

Such professionalism and tact isn't something he expected, not from a woman who believes that her son's cock has been bitten by a poisonous spider and is in dire need of sucking. Nevertheless, Ricky can't help himself from being so grateful for his mother's kindness—now that the situation is revealed, he doubts he'd be able to stop her anyway. So he does as asked, unzipping his pants and pulling out his stiffening erection. Threading his fingers through his mom's blonde locks and positioning her face above his tip like a fleshlight about to receive its first load is something special.

Lissa can smell it. He's sure. As it pulses and grows in size, the musky hardness against her cheek only heightens her resolve to aid her son. It's the smell of a cock in pain—it needs relief. To her knowledge, it's a relief from the terrible venom circulating throughout his blood, but to Ricky, it's just a selfish desire to spoil his mom's pouty lips with a pent-up load. Just rubbing against the warmth of her cheek, his glans poking her the way a dog might with its wet nose, Ricky knows that his mother is about to unintentionally flare his interest in her beyond reason.

After a comical wink from Lissa, Ricky supposes it's no longer time to stall. Just think of her as a sex toy, he tells himself. He pretends it's one of those blowjob machines he's seen on porn websites that vibrates and sucks away the cum like a vacuum. Anything—ANYTHING—is better than associating his mom and her lips as a convenient masturbatory tool. And it works. The idea helps ease his guilt and shame, allowing him to get into the mindset that Lissa is not his ever-loving mother but a strange sex toy that just happened to end up on his lap to be a tool for his gratification.

Or rather—for his satisfaction. A satisfaction that she's already opening wide for, even! All he has to do is…give his mommy what she wants, even if he'd rather not out of good conscience. As such, he guides his stiff member, with his fingers entangled in her hair…and into her mouth.

As expected, the warmth—the moistness of her tongue—the pressure and suction it brings forth… It's unmatched. This is the very moment when Ricky truly understands the true extent of his mom's kindness. How much she genuinely cares about his well-being. Lissa never once looked away; she never once flinched in the face of his cock's massive girth. She's just waiting to receive it as he slowly pushes her detached skull down, right down to his balls, and into her throat. As he continues to guide her, she just…goes with it. There's nothing she can do but comply.

Comply and…suck. She can't very well bob on her own, so Lissa resolves to use every facet of her housewife training to slurp away on her son's cock. Usually, she has hands to hasten a cock's orgasm or to grasp a man's balls and massage them at a pivotal moment—but there are no such luxuries as a disembodied head in Ricky's lap. Hell, she can't even move up and down on her own.

Thankfully, she notes, her son is doing good work guiding her lips where they need to go. The grip is a bit tight on her scalp, sure, but this boy has spider venom running through his cock, for crying out loud—her discomfort is the least of her worries. At this point, all Lissa wishes is for him to speed up. The quicker they get the venom out, the better.

"Hmm? Is everything alright back there? I hear something…wet?"

Ricky blanches at his dad's innocent inquiry. The rearview mirror can only see his forehead beading with sweat and bloodshot focus—not his throbbing cock or his wife's bobbing mouth.

"Nothing, Dad. W-We're fine," Ricky manages to rush out despite the slurping and the occasional gurgle coming from below, "I-I'm just watching this, uh…butter churning video on my phone. Yeah, you know, where they…well…" he gulps as his mother, too, swallows a glob of his precum, "…churn butter…b-by hand, with that stick and barrel?"

"Aaaaah, alright. I thought it sounded familiar. When I was younger, I actually churned butter with my grandpa back at his farm. Got pretty darn good at it. If you are interested in that sort of thing, I could probably show you how it's done. Trust me, handmade butter is on a whole another level!"

"Th-That'd be cool, Dad. Sorry about the noise, though. I'll put in my headphones, n-now. Feel free to turn up the radio or s-something."

"Hey, say no more! What's a road trip without some smooth, relaxing tunes."

Ricky can physically feel his father's interest in him shift to the music, hiding the sound of Lissa's fellatio with moderately loud rock and roll. So no one—except Ricky himself and his mother, of course—are privy to the intimate and incestuous act happening in the rear of their car. Now, all he has to do is finish.

Just thinking about it sends shivers down his spine. Ricky will literally not be free of his mother's misdirected oral concerns until he's shooting his stuff down her throat. She won't consider the venom out and gone until his balls are pulsing on her chin, off-loading 'venom'—a thing that only exists because of her blissful ignorance.

It's almost too good to. Lissa's mouth is just so…so perfect, so warm, so inviting, and so willing to take everything. She's sucking away, not on a mission to just suck, but on a mission to make Ricky cum and expel the venom in his cock. She doesn't care about his embarrassment. All she wants to do is relieve him of his discomfort and put him at ease. Even though the situation is inherently bizarre, she is gentle-hearted, which makes it easy for her to commit to this task. However, Ricky knows that once he finishes, it'll all come crashing down, and he'll no longer be able to pretend and fool his moral sensibilities into believing this isn't wrong and isn't taboo.

The weight of the situation will soon begin to catch up to him; Ricky wants to get it over with. He needs to cum already—the longer he waits, the more embarrassing this will become, and the more guilt will eat away at his conscience. But how much longer? How far can he wait before his seed boils over, and he's left with no choice but to release it all inside his mother's mouth? How much longer can he pretend like this is a normal, healthy mother/son relationship when the truth is that his mom's mouth is currently sloshing with his pre-cum and the warmth of his balls is now commonplace to her chin?

Right now. He has to be done with it. The thought of getting off in his mother's mouth makes Ricky want to run away and hide, but he can't do anything about it. She's already doing the work, the work that he's so thankful for—he has to help her finish the job. And so, he lets himself get carried away, letting his body do all the thinking as his head falls back into the headrest and his eyes wander down… Down to the ass laying on the seat beside him, still softer than jelly and sumptuously rocking back and forth to the same beat of Lissa's sucking.

That's it—that's the fuel he needed to spurn the denial in him. He's not ashamed of his body, of his cock, of the things it does, of the things it makes him want to do, and he certainly has nothing to be ashamed of with his mom. Lissa has given her head over to him to USE and use it he shall.

Deep, throat fucking strokes are all that remain in Ricky's sexual vocabulary. Hands digging deep into the sides of Lissa's knowing face, his tip bangs on her tonsils like a broken jackhammer against cement. It's a desperate, mad dash to the finish line, and his mom's ass is the fuel to keep his mouth-blasting assault alive and running.

Momma knows best—Lissa didn't need her son to explain his speed. His rising ferocity. All—or at least some—of the venom making Ricky's cock ache so bad is about to find its way into the depths of her gullet. How marvelous—another good deed as a dutiful mother. Her son will suffer no more venom-related pain or discomfort; the worst part of their road trip is officially behind them. All there's left to do now is pinch her lips, flutter her tongue, and stare up at her son, looking back in her eyes and accepting the burden he's about to put on her shoulders—the weight of his cock, his taste, and his final, lingering, venomous load.

It's a dense, molten syrup that bursts from Ricky's balls. Right there, down to the base, he holds his mother's head down, swearing under his breath and cursing his lack of control. All the while, Lissa just goes with it, accepting his throbbing as if it were her duty and destiny. The viscous slurry, salty and pungent, pours into her mouth.

Lissa doesn't stop him. She's never going to stop him—this is all in the name of medicine and relief. This is all in the name of love, and love is not something she is capable of denying. Not to her son, who has come down with a virulent disease like this. If jizz is her unsolicited reward for helping her son through his pain, then so be it.

If anything, it's a wonderfully tangible way for her son to show how much he appreciates her and how much she means to him. A simple 'thanks' flies into the air and is gone, carried away by the wind.

Cum, however—especially when it's so mucky and coagulated as Ricky's—is a very physical thing, which can be felt swirling between her teeth and hot-glazing her tongue. This texture and viscosity are familiar; it's like a soothing salve to her raw throat. She never minded getting cum in her mouth before—she likes the flavor, especially when she was young—but she's never been faced with this much of it. Ricky's a prolific gusher, it'd seem. But, little does she know, her enthused cock-gobbling is the sole reason her boy's balls are unloading so vigorously and why his cum is so thick.

So lost in his own orgasmic reverie, Ricky can't even hold her head long enough to let out the final few spurts. His cock softens just a tad, and his grip grows loose, letting the tip flop out of Lissa's mouth and direct what remains of his semen back onto her lips…and onto the pale butt cheeks that pushed him past the point of no return.

Lissa, aghast, manages to recapture the tip and suckles the gummy remains of Ricky's cum to where it belongs. Her lips, her tongue, and her saliva all take on the taste of the warm and gooey cum that Ricky has deposited in her mouth. She swallows it, not without some effort, but it's an act of love, selflessness, motherly devotion—all the things that make Lissa a great mother. What she's tasting now—the tang of Ricky's balls, his thick jizz—is what she'll be able to remember as a reward for her kindness. The thought makes her proud.

"Blech. Ricky?" Lissa blinks up at him after letting the deflated member finish his business and fall from her mouth. "How are you feeling? Good? B-Because I need you to do something for me."

Sweating a little, he's having trouble getting the words out but manages to squeak out his response: "Of…course. Anything, Mom."

"I-I think some of your cum got on my butt. I know it's weird, but can you wipe any you see off?"

"What?"

"I'm serious, honey. No offense, but I don't want what you just shot to go to… I don't know, get me sick or something. It must be a pretty potent venom if it's still affecting you, so that's why I'm worried.

Right. Ricky had actually forgotten somewhere in between all the pleasure that Lissa was genuinely worried and believing that his cock got bitten by some spider. If a spider bite could get him harder than Viagra, then yeah, he'd be worried if some of that cum was getting near him too. How swallowing it somehow makes the jizz less dangerous, he'll never know or ask.

"What do you want me to do?"

"Be slow about it. Don't want your father to see anything at this point. Just bring my hips closer to you. Like, up on your thighs."

"A-Alright, then."

He's doing it. He'll be able to touch IT.

Ricky pulls it over by the thong until he can stare down at its full, mind-numbing glory.

"Okay, now, u-um… Just look it over. See if there's any on me" She gives him a pleading look as he admires—or more innocently, inspects—the fat ass that has him so enthralled. He touches it, and goodness, his hands sink right into the buttery flesh. If he hadn't already gotten the horniness sucked out and swallowed, he might have had trouble holding his hands back at this point, but it's safe to say that he is firmly in control of himself.

If only this butt could be as firm as his resolve, then maybe just seeing Lissa walk wouldn't have him blushing at home. But no, here it is, a middle-aged cushion for all to ogle and envy, voluptuous enough to beguile Lissa's own son and, quite possibly, a softness Ricky will fantasize about the next few years to come. This is the butt that made him unwillingly ache from the day she first sucked his cock.

"You see anything, sweetie?"

"N-No, Mom. I-I don't s-see any cum. Venom. Whatever…"

"I swore I saw some flick on me. It wasn't much, but I swear I saw something on my butt. We might have to check deeper. Can you pull down my thong, please? I want nothing covered."

Gulping, Ricky tries to keep his mind on his task. His mother's butt is a feast for the eyes and a treasure to even brush his fingers against, but now he's doing so much more than he ever expected or honestly wants. Digging the thong out of Lissa's mile-long crack is a feat of resolve that has him breaking a sweat, but with that task finished, he can now take another glance and confirm that those are indeed his mom's pussy and asshole between these fatty cheeks.

"N-Nothing, Mom."

"You have to get deeper than that. J-Just… I know it's weird, but I need you to spread my butt and check. Lick off any that you see. Your cum has a very musty scent, so you should be able to smell it."

"M-Mom…?!"

"I'm being serious. If you just rub it off, it'll smear and get on your skin…Now keep your voice down. Your father has music playing, but he's not deaf. So… Check!"

If it was any other woman, Ricky would never believe this kind of logic, but in Lissa's case… Aw, man.

Ricky still has to hold his mother's head, and It's tough to spread such meaty butt cheeks with one hand, but hey, he manages. He gets his face as close to her butt as possible without literally stuffing his nose in there. It's clear there's nothing there, yet he thumbs on Lissa's holes anyway, trying to at least SEEM thorough.

Her pussy radiates subtle, natural wetness. It's like standing next to a pond in spring—it's a mild humidity, a darkness that's warm and a little gooey to the touch. An unfamiliar fragrance seems to exude from the pink folds—whatever sweetness his mom's insides are hiding is definitely worth smelling.

Even her anus is annoyingly photogenic. It's a smooth, barely wrinkled pucker, as inviting as a windowpane with a view. Tonguing it is out of the question, no matter how well-kept and faintly pink around the rim it is. Instead, for the sake of Lissa's paranoia, he'll spread out both of her holes and really give it a stare—which leads him to do something he never thought he'd be doing: sniffing his own mother's ass.

"Do I really have to…?"

"Yes, honey, you really have to," Lissa responds as Ricky keeps his nose at bay, "Better than sorry."

After everything she's done for him, Ricky supposes he can spare a sniff or two. But, instead, a single lungful of his mom's musky aroma has him swooning. It's still as reluctant as ever, but the thought of his mother's ass, so inviting and so ripe, is too tantalizing not to run with it.

Ricky settles his nose between the fat cheeks and lets his breath waft. Deep, long breaths filled his brain with brand new categories for smells. Femininity, maturity, and yes, something entirely unclassifiable and untameable: the always ready and willing sexuality of his mother.

"There's… There's n-nothing, Mom."

"Really? Are you sure? Is there really nothing to lick up…? Well, can you put my head in between there, then? Just like how your face is between my butt cheeks. Put my head there just like that."

Abiding in her thorough investigation, Ricky frees himself from Lissa's ass, takes her detached head, and gently stuffs it right between her cheeks. Almost immediately, there's a raunchy slurp running up and down the crease of her butt. Lissa has deigned it appropriate to lick her own pussy and asshole to prevent even a drop of her son's tainted semen from escaping. A part of him can't help but applaud this fact; he admires her initiative and the thoughtfulness behind the act.

He thinks to mention that licking her own holes with a tongue that has just been slathered in the same 'venomous' semen she is trying to make sure hasn't splattered on her is…probably redundant. Let her believe that she's doing the right thing, he tells himself. All he can hope is that there are no big globs of the stuff still wet on her taste buds because getting any of that INSIDE of Mom's pristine—and likely still fertile—vagina would be… It'd be hitting a hard limit even for this kind and loving mother.

"I think I got some? Oh, well. Maybe you missed me. Can you pull my head up, sweetie?"

Lissa's face is succinctly removed from her bubble butt's embrace, and after giving her ass a good lookover, she nods, satisfied. All that's left is to pull the thong back up Lissa's hips, push that terribly tempting booty back into its seat, and collapse into a heap.

Ricky barely manages to hold onto Lissa's head after all that. Exhaustion is just about to overcome him.

"Geez. Guess that turned into a pretty scary situation for the both of us, huh?" Lissa chuckles on his lap, relaxing a bit as her son progressively melts into a satisfied heap. "I hope your dad doesn't find out about this. I won't blame him if he does. Not sure what he would say, though…"

"C-Can we just sleep it off for now?"

"Of course. Now, you know the drill. If anything like that happens again, just give me a nudge."

"Will do… M-Mom?"

"Yes, honey?" she questions with a tired grin. "Anything else?" It seems as though she is ready to sleep herself.

"Th-Thank you for that. I… I love you."

"Awww~ Well, that alone makes everything worth it. Good night, honey." Ricky's mother smiles sweetly and closes her eyes. A few more moments of silence and the two of them are out.

The rest of the drive is filled with snoring.

And John Smith's head bobbing and lackadaisical 90s rock.