Take the front seat

Despite your offer of the front seat to Mrs. Ivers, she insists that you should be in the front. “We girls will be quite alright back here,” she says, cheerfully, as she climbs in the back. You get in the front passenger seat and look over your shoulder. Mrs. Ivers is directly behind you, with Kendra next to her in the middle of the seat, and Sarah directly behind Mr. Ivers. As awkward as it feels for you to let Mrs. Ivers ride in such an uncomfortable environment, you realize that it would have been very difficult for you to ride for long that close to the girls without at least one of you feeling very tempted and turned on.

Mr. Ivers puts the car in drive and pulls out of the parking lot. As he drives, you settle into a pleasant conversation with him, talking about sports, your classes, and your plans for after college. You deftly evade his questions about dorm life, your accommodations at college, and what you do in your off-hours.

Behind you, Mrs. Ivers and the girls start the journey chatting up a storm, but before long, you notice that Kendra’s mom’s contributions to the conversation are growing more and more infrequent. After a while, Mr. Ivers looks over his shoulder and smiles before saying to you, “Well, she’s out for the rest of the trip. She always does that on long journeys — out like a light!”

You turn around and see Mrs. Ivers, with her head leaning against the window, her mouth open slightly, and eyes closed in sleep.

The rest of you ride in comparative silence for a while, not wanting to disturb the sleeping woman. You glance over your shoulder again, and see that the girls have pulled out their phones. You wonder if they are chatting with each other, or if they are playing games. You yawn, and are beginning to think that Mrs. Ivers has the right idea about taking nap, when you feel your phone vibrate in your pocket. You pull it out and look at the text message:

“I am SO horny right now!”

Startled, you quickly turn the screen away from Mr. Ivers, just in case he would happen to look your way. You look at the sender of the text message and see that it is Sarah.

You quickly glance at her, and you see her staring intently at you, with the tip of her tongue barely protruding from her lips.

You are about to reply back to her, suggesting that this would be a good time for her to take one of her pills, when your phone vibrates again. This time it is a text message from Kendra.

“See if Dad can stop at a rest stop. I need your cock in me right now!”

You feel your heart pounding in your chest as you consider what you should do.

“Are you ok, Connor?” asks Mr. Ivers. “You look flushed. Do you need the air conditioner on?”