With the vehicle fully packed it became obvious how crowded the backseat would be. There was almost no leg room, and the space was narrower than either front seat. Mom and Aunt Marie were whispering to one side, and then Mom came forward. "So, who will it be, Colin? You want your Mom back there with you, or would you rather have me sit on your lap for a couple of hours?"

Damn, Mom! Tease the boy much? He'd probably have a brain aneurysm if she kept it up.

It turned out Dad had serious issues in that department.

"I think these boys are a little too old to have their momma's sitting in their laps for that long," he said in his 'and-that's-final' tone.

"But it's Ok for their aunt's to sit on their laps?" Mom asked pointedly.

"Hell. I don't like any of this, but given those two options, I'd say yeah. It's better for their aunt to sit on their lap."

Mom rolled her eyes at him, but she knew him as well as I did. Hell, who am I kidding? She knew him a whole lot better. This one was a lost cause. She could argue 'til she was blue in the face, but he wasn't going to budge on this issue. Dad was like that. Mom got her way better than 95% of the time, but on those rare occasions that he had his mind made up about something, you'd be better off waiting for the Mississippi to start flowing north than him changing his mind.

Aunt Marie stayed out of the line of fire, and waited for them to come to a decision. Sexy and smart. Dad didn't say a word, he just stood there with that dark look on his face, and his arms crossed.

Like I said, Mom knows Dad, what makes him tick, and how to play him. After just a few seconds, we watched her walk over to him, and put her hands on his arm. "Of course, Dear. I'm sure you know best about these kinds of things. They're not little boys anymore." She tugged his arm and got him walking with her, away from the rest of us, while they chatted back and forth. It didn't look like they were arguing at all, but when they turned back toward us, Mom was wearing that grin of hers that told me she figured she'd forfeited that battle, but was winning the war.

She smacked me again, this time pretty hard. I know she left a hand mark on my arm for a good bit.

"Alright Colin, why don't you join me up front, and we can load up," Mom announced.

Dad looked apoplectic. "Certainly you're not going to ride home in your bathing suits?"

Mom look surprised. "God, I can't believe we almost forgot. Riding two hours in these wet suits would be miserable. I'm chafing already. Marie, where'd we put the bag with the travel outfits?"

Aunt Marie wore a look of apprehension, before turning to the car. I saw her sigh in relief as she found the tote bag was actually accessible. She struggled for a second to get it loose, then climbed out of the vehicle, bag held high in victory. "Got it."

Mom passed us clothes to wear on the ride home, and she and Aunt Marie moved into the house to change. While they were gone, Colin and I quickly changed into the outfits she'd held out for us. Just a pair of knit shorts and a t-shirt, but way more comfortable than 2 hours of sitting in wet clothing. We were already wearing the boxers, and they were still wet, so they had to go. Truth is, we went commando most of the summer, so it wasn't all that unusual. I personally liked the freedom; I hated encasing the 'boys' in anything tight.

Mom and Aunt Marie showed up just a couple of minutes later, wearing large baggy t-shirts that reached halfway down their thighs. Mom posed for Dad, lifting the edge of her shirt, displaying some God-awful ugly colored shorts. "Better now?"

Colin and I both gave our Ok's. Dad had changed into sweats earlier so he was already set. "That's a little more reasonable," Dad grudgingly admitted. "Let's load up."

The back seat was narrow with the passenger side down. I climbed in, and took a minute to push and tug at the boxes and suitcases next to me, until I had a bit of shoulder room, and a place to rest my arm. Aunt Marie waited patiently, then carefully maneuvered her way in, tucking her t-shirt under her bottom, while we experimented with what worked best for our legs. In the end she sat with her legs outside mine. I was uncomfortable with my legs pressed together, so I opened my knees about a foot, my feet still together. It resulted in pressing Aunt Marie's legs apart, one up against the door, one against the suitcase wedged in between the front seats. Not the most dainty of positions. It gave me a nice view of a lot of smooth bare thigh.

"A little."

"Don't worry. We'll be fine. I trust you."

My fingers were slowly sliding along her skin, the smooth soft silkiness of her inner thigh. We reached the end of the open driveway, and Dad sped up a bit, as we disappeared into the trees.

Almost immediately we hit a big bump which killed any ideas of propriety we might have had. She bounced across my lap with a squeal, hitting the door hard, her shirt twisting under her. My hands reached out, grabbing one thigh way too high under normal circumstances, and struggling to keep her from falling into the foot-well. Her t-shirt slid almost up to her chest, during a second almost equally bad bounce, and she was lying on her back in my lap, her legs pointed at the ceiling, her knee practically giving me a black eye.

My eyes were drawn between her legs. She wasn't wearing shorts. Hell, she was barely wearing panties. I don't know if Dad would think this was better than bathing suits.

Aunt Marie gasped, struggling to sit upright, and I tried to help, when the next bad bounce turned her sideways on my lap, and I had to grab her butt to stop her from sliding off of me. I gripped her rear tightly, fighting to keep her in place, and miraculously we got her seated again.

Thanks to the panties she was wearing, that grip was more skin then cloth. I didn't want to ever let go.

She had her hands and feet braced against anything she could find, and stared at me with real surprise. I reached forward and pulled her shirt around, where it had gotten twisted, and straightened it out so it covered her pretty little panties again. The bouncing was continuous but manageable for the moment. I held her shirt tail in my hand and on a bigger bounce, quickly slid it under her butt.

"There. Back to PG-13," I teased.

We both started giggling, and she laughed out loud when she was launched, landing hard on my lap.

Dad finally slowed down, and probably none too soon. That last lurch left Aunt Marie's legs spread-eagle in the air, and I found myself clutching her to my chest, one hand on her breast, and the other gripping the inside of her thigh just a hair's breadth from her crotch. Her shirt had crawled up past her waist again, and looking down I got a really good look at those panties. Tiny pink ones, with an embroidered red heart and the word 'Me' written in girly cursive below. Heart Me. I'm sure you can understand how that resulted in an immediate change in my status below the waist.

I don't know how long Aunt Marie let me grope her like that, but she eventually peeled my hand off of her thigh, and pulled her shirt down enough to cover her bottom. She reached for my other hand, loosened the death grip I had on her tit, and sat back upright. She smiled at me, as she put my hand back on her breast, patting it softly. I gave her a little squeeze. She moved her lips next to my ear. "Boob day."

That set us to giggling again, and I gave her tit a nice long feel. She put her hand on mine again, "Gentle, Ok? And this stays between us."

"I'll be gentle," I assured her. "I'll be anything you want me to be."

She smiled. "Do you like my panties? I wore them special for you."

"I love them. And I do."

"Do?"

"I do love you."

I was going nuts.

Aunt Marie seemed to understand my predicament. I'll say that for a woman who was nearly 40 years old, she was pretty darn flexible. She twisted around, and pressed her mouth to my ear again.

"We're being a little naughty, don't you think?"

"Too naughty?" I asked, hoping she'd say no.

"It's a little much. You're driving me crazy, baby."

Driving her crazy? "Me too." A sudden bump lifted her up, and I tried to be more careful about how I brought her back down. "God, you feel good."

She gave me a little kiss. "And you feel big. Really big. When did my little nephew grow up so damn much?"

Yet another bump had me moan, as I felt the pressure of her ass slide along my shaft. That one was all her doing.

"Listen sugar. We've got a long trip ahead of us, and we need to get comfortable, or we'll both be miserable. We can be grownup about this, right?"

"Sure," I told her.

"Ok. Can you slide down just a bit?"

I struggled to move my hips forward an inch or two. "Like that?"

Aunt Marie nodded. "Trust me?"

"Of course. With my life. You know that."