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Her
Son's Best Friend
My son Paul had his driver's license taken away,
so I ended up chauffeuring him around for six
months.
One day, we went to pick up his friend, Jonah.
Jonah was a late bloomer, and his body had
recently outgrown itself, angling awkwardly into
over-sized hands and feet and tree-like limbs.
He ambled out to the truck, and his shy
half-smile stretched into a brief grin at me as
he folded himself inside.
There had been a short argument over who should
sit in the tiny back seat. The negotiated
compromise put both boys into the one front
passenger seat, with Paul by the window.
Jonah's chestnut hair was wet from his shower,
and I could smell the scent of lavender on his
freshly-scrubbed skin. His left leg spilled over
the bucket seat to the space between us and
pressed against the gear shift as I moved it in
its right angles. He was wearing cutoff
corduroys, and coarse dark hair curled along his
sinewy legs.
When we arrived home, there was a message
calling Paul into work; so Jonah went along for
the ride. Relegated to the cramped back seat by
Paul, who argued he would have the front to
himself all the way back, I could see his face
in the rearview mirror every time I glanced
back. Little coarse nubs dotted his jaw, and
fine dark hairs fringed his upper lip. He sat
quietly with that half-smile on his face,
staring ahead with his piercing black eyes.
Jonah was not fond of words, and didn't converse
with Paul or me on the way there. So I didn't
force small talk once he had extricated himself
from the back seat and taken the place vacated
by Paul.
In the silence, my mind examined the raw data
being fed to it by my senses. I breathed in the
soapy lavender smell and the dampness of his
hair, thinking that it is one of the few scents
I love. I mused upon the suddenness of his
recent growth spurt; the dark coarseness of his
hair, so rampant on his body now; the solidity
and denseness of his large frame, now creating
such a presence in my truck.
It was as if the powerful hormones which had
produced this abundant growth were palpable. I
felt a yearning within me toward that growth,
like the thrust of a cotyledon in spring toward
the sun. And the seed of an idea began to
ferment in my brain.
I was suddenly aware of the weight of my own
breasts which pressed my nipples into points
through the yellow cotton knit of my turtleneck.
I could feel our pheromones mingling and playing
in the space of air between us.
By the time the half hour drive was half over,
my plan was sealed. There was no question that
my house would be our first stop, and no
stopping the question I had to ask him. As
hesitation turned to resolve, the vague sense of
yearning turned to hard evidence, and a tingling
sensation signalled the rush of welcome to my
port of call. My breathing was already heavy,
and moisture was seeping to the edges.
I glanced over at him, wondering if he knew the
effect he was having on me. When I looked back
to the road, he turned his head toward me, and
his gaze was long and intent. I glanced again,
and his eyes dropped. I raised my arm to the top
of the steering wheel as I peered ahead, so the
round firmness of my breasts was fully visible
to him. The tingling in their points was as
intense as if his eyes were fingertips.
I moved my left hand to my chest, and brushed my
fingers lightly down and over the right nipple;
then buried them between my legs.
When I glanced a third time, he was staring
straight ahead, but I could see the sweat
glistening in the fine hairs of his upper lip,
and his hands fumbling absentmindedly in his
lap. Was the beast beneath them rousing? Of
course it was! I couldn't wait to release it
from its prison.
I knew for a fact that Jonah was not a virgin.
Paul told me he'd had an encounter with a
college girl last year. The thought that he had
already tasted the forbidden fruit, yet could
not have fully apprised it yet, made him even
more appealing than if he had never tasted. He
had an idea of what he was in for, yet not the
half of it. How delicious.
Mercifully, the drive was almost complete. I
didn't know how much longer I could endure the
wait.
We bounced and bumped up my narrow dirt driveway
and landed between the two cactus plants which
stood guard over it. I shoved the gearshift into
first, yanked the emergency brake, and turned to
him.
His eyes met mine, and they were unafraid.
"I know you're a person of few words. So I only
have four of them for you," I said. "Do you want
me?"
A small gasp escaped from his parted lips, not
unlike the tremulous sob at the end of a crying
spell, and he lifted his arm toward me without
any certain objective.
Extricating my legs from under the steering
wheel, I turned my body over his, pushing my
swollen labia through jeans and seams against
the mound I knew would be there under my splayed
legs, knees bent into the back of his seat. His
arms closed around me with surprising grace, and
his kiss was firm, and masculine, and hungry.
His tongue kneaded mine, and his hands found my
breasts. His noises were like mews and whimpers;
like a puppy crying; like a forlorn kitten
found.
I suspected that he wouldn't last long this way,
and since my foreplay was already twenty-six
miles long, I wasted no time unfastening my
jeans and his, and unceremoniously wriggling out
of mine, pushing and shoving them with legs and
knees cocked at awkward angles, naked ass
emerging, one leg and then the other. Bracing my
feet on the seat, I lifted my bare ass into the
windshield and hovered over him so he could
straighten his torso and pull down his short
pants, which landed in a puddle around his
ankles.
There it was. He was wearing no underwear, and
below the furry dark growth around his navel
which extended like an arrow down his pelvis,
there it was. Fat and red and sleek, bursting
its seams, its taut head shiny smooth and wet
with pre-cum, it was magnificent. A chuckle in
the back of my brain confirmed what I'd always
heard--big hands, big feet...big! It was
luscious.
Lowering my ass, the target rushed to the shaft
and found its mark. I closed my eyes, sliding
luxuriously down his pole until I had swallowed
it to the base; but not before I had held his
eyes with mine and found them guileless and
wanting.
I rode him then, up and down, up and down,
like a pony on a carousel. The music whined, the
world spun, and all was cotton candy and glossy
red apples forever. The bell rang, the siren
sounded, the clapper clanged, and his explosion
within me imploded as my body became his and his
mine for one moment in time.
Our panting slowed, and we soon came to know
that we were two again. He kissed me tenderly
with his eyes closed, while mine were open; all
over my face, he kissed me; and caressed my
breasts under the turtleneck, and lifted it
carefully over my head, so he could mouth the
flesh of my chest. And he buried his big hands
in my long curls, and massaged my scalp; and
held me close to his chest and licked my cheek.
He was so warm. So comforting. So sweet.
And I knew I could never do this again.
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