Seduced by Best Friend's Mom Pt. 02

It was weird, waking up in someone else's bed for the second morning in a row.

I laid there for a while, unmoving, staring at the ceiling while the early light crept in through the guest room blinds. My body was already buzzing, thick with heat. My cock was hard. Unreasonably hard. It ached under the blanket, throbbing with the same pulsing tension I'd fallen asleep with.

And the first thought that filled my head wasn't just her. It was the way she whispered goodnight. The way her bare breast brushed against my shoulder. The smell of her skin. Her lips. That robe.

I closed my eyes and let my hand drift down.

My fingers slid beneath the waistband of my boxers and wrapped around the base of my cock. It twitched, desperate. I started stroking slowly, barely breathing. My hips shifted. My mind spiraled. I pictured her robe falling open. Her eyes on me.

Her voice in my ear.

"You poor thing..."

I jerked harder, faster, heat spreading through my gut. I was so close. One more stroke. One more second-

Footsteps.

Soft. Bare. Coming up the stairs.

I froze.

The floor creaked just outside the door and I yanked the blanket over myself, heart slamming in my chest. My cock throbbed painfully, still slick in my hand, still exposed beneath the covers. I barely had time to breathe before the door opened.

Val stepped in like nothing was out of place.

She wore a different robe today. White with pink trim, fluffy and casual, tied loose at the waist. It clung to her just right. Her legs were bare. Her hair was tied back in a bun, a few strands loose around her face.

"Morning," she said softly.

I swallowed hard. "Morning."

"I was just about to make coffee," she said. "You hungry?"

I nodded, trying not to look guilty. My cock was still hard. Still pulsing under the sheets.

She didn't look at it. Didn't have to.

"I'll meet you downstairs," she added, then turned and walked out with slow, quiet steps.

I laid there for a second, dizzy and unfinished, sweat cooling on my chest. I adjusted myself awkwardly, tucked my cock back into my boxers, and pulled on the clothes I'd worn the night before.

The hallway smelled like her. Vanilla. Skin. Heat.

I followed it downstairs.

She was already in the kitchen, back to me, humming as she flipped something in the skillet. The robe shifted around her hips when she moved. Tighter now. Tied just enough to push her breasts together in a soft swell.

She didn't look up when I walked in.

"There you are." she said with a smile.

I sat down at the island, trying not to stare. My cock still throbbed faintly, a dull, needy ache between my legs.

"Did you sleep okay?" she asked, glancing over her shoulder.

"Yeah. Yeah, I did."

She placed a plate in front of me. Pancakes. Eggs. Two strips of bacon. Then she slid a mug of coffee across the counter.

"Here is your coffee. Black, right?"

I nodded. "Yeah. Thanks."

Val leaned against the counter across from me and sipped her own mug. The robe shifted again. One leg crossed over the other, and the hem pulled higher on her thigh. Her expression stayed soft. Calm. Like nothing had happened.

"Your mom must be wondering where you are," she said.

Shit.

I blinked. "She's cool. I told her I was staying over at Nate's."

Val raised an eyebrow. "Two nights?"

I scratched the back of my neck. "Yeah. I mean... we've done that before."

She looked at me for a long second, then smiled.

"Well," she said. "Thank you for keeping me company. This weekend would've been so quiet without you."

The way she said it made it hard to swallow.

"Are you... um... are you gonna say anything to Nate? About me being here?"

Val tilted her head slightly. "You mean the truth?"

I nodded.

She sipped her coffee again. "We'll just say I was feeling lonely and you were sweet enough to stick around. You're kind like that."

Her voice was gentle. But the words twisted in my chest.

"Okay," I said quietly.

She stepped forward and bent to kiss the top of my head. Her fingers brushed through my hair.

"Good boy."

My cock throbbed again beneath the table.

She didn't look back. Just turned toward the stove. And I sat there, breath held, wanting to go back home. I really couldn't take it anymore. Thankfully, after we were done with breakfast she asked me if I'm ready to go home and I nodded.

She helped me gather my things like it was nothing. My phone, my charger, the crumpled shirt I'd left near the guest bed. She moved through the house calmly, humming to herself, not rushed, not saying much at all. It felt like a normal morning.

Except nothing about it was normal.

She handed me my hoodie from where it had fallen over the arm of the couch. Her fingers lingered on mine as I took it.

"Don't forget anything," she said.

Her voice was light. Effortless. But something about it made my stomach clench.

We stepped outside into the soft heat of late morning. The sun hit the driveway, warm and bright, and the pavement radiated against my shoes. She clicked the car open with her key fob, then slid into the driver's seat without waiting for me to open my door.

I sat down beside her, still holding that tight, unsettled feeling in my chest.

Val drove with one hand on the wheel, the other resting lazily on her thigh. She wore sunglasses now, reflective and dark, hiding her eyes. Her white tank top was thin, almost sheer in the sunlight, and clung tight across her chest. No bra. Her nipples pressed clearly through the fabric, and the seatbelt cut between her breasts like a frame. I tried not to look. Tried to keep my eyes on the road. But it was impossible not to notice. Not to imagine how she had looked when she got dressed. How intentional it had to be.

The car was quiet at first. Just the low hum of the engine and the whisper of wind through a cracked window.

At the second red light, her hand drifted sideways. Lightly. Casually. And landed on my leg.

Not high. Not aggressive. Just enough to make my breath catch.

I stiffened.

"You're tense," she murmured.

"I'm fine."

She didn't move her hand.

The warmth of her skin soaked through the denim, and I could feel my cock begin to respond before I could stop it. I shifted in my seat slightly, trying to adjust, hoping she didn't notice. But she noticed everything.

"I've really enjoyed spending time with you," she said, her voice just barely above the engine.

"I... yeah. Same."

She slid her thumb in a slow circle against the fabric. Almost nothing. But it made everything worse.

"Don't be so nervous, baby. You didn't do anything wrong."

Didn't I?

Her words from the night before echoed in my skull. The way she kissed my temple. The way her robe slipped. The way she whispered sweet dreams with her hand on my cock like it was the most natural thing in the world.

I swallowed hard.

The light turned green. She kept driving. Kept her hand right where it was.

My thoughts spiraled the rest of the way home. Her voice, her touch, the way the breeze lifted her hair as she drove. I kept my hands folded in my lap, fingers tight. My jeans were too stiff now, too tight across my crotch, and I hated how aware I was of everything.

She turned onto my street with no warning. Calm. Smooth.

The house came into view.

Her hand slipped away like it had never been there.

"Do you want me to walk you in?" she asked, almost teasing.

I shook my head quickly. "No. I'm good."

She smiled.

"I'll miss having you around," she said.

I didn't answer. I couldn't.

Then she leaned over, kissed my cheek lightly, and reached across me to open my door.

"Go on, baby."

Her voice was soft. Final.

I stepped out into the warmth of the early morning with my heart pounding, jeans tight, mind burning. I shut the door and stood there on the sidewalk while she pulled away.

My mom didn't say much when I came in.

"You were gone all weekend?" she asked from the couch, eyes half-watching a cooking show.

"Yeah. Nate and I were just gaming. Lost track of time."

She nodded, barely interested. "You hungry?"

"I'm good. We ate."

"You crash there both nights?"

"Yeah."

She didn't press further.

I went upstairs, shut the door behind me, and dropped onto my bed.

It wasn't even noon yet. The sunlight spilling through the blinds was bright, uninviting. I laid there for a few minutes, staring at the ceiling, unsure what the hell I was supposed to feel. My skin still buzzed. My cock had only softened slightly during the ride home. I could still feel her hand on my leg. Still hear her voice. Her kiss on my cheek. The scent of her robe.

I peeled off my clothes and stepped into the shower. The water was hot. Too hot. I stood there longer than I meant to, letting the spray hit my chest, then leaned forward, forehead against the tile. I was so hard again I could barely think.

I wanted to jerk off.

So badly.

But I didn't.

I dried off, threw on a clean shirt, and paced my room barefoot like that would help. I grabbed my phone, thought about texting Nate. Put it down again.

My thoughts wouldn't stop.

Her voice the night before. "You poor thing." Her breast brushing my shoulder. Her hand over my cock.

I sat on the edge of the bed, fingers twitching. I didn't know if it was real. I didn't know if I wanted it to be. Then I laid down, phone next to me, arm over my face, chest tight. That was how I stayed for almost two hours. Just trying to breathe. Just trying to not touch myself.

Then my phone buzzed.

Val [2:12 PM]

Coffee? I'm not ready to give you back to the world just yet. ❤️

My stomach flipped.

I stared at the screen, heart hammering in my chest.

Me [2:12 PM]

Sure... When?

Val [2:13 PM]

Fifteen minutes. If you're up for it. ☕????

Me [2:13 PM]

I thought you said goodbye.

Val [2:14 PM]

I said "go on," not "goodbye." There's a difference, baby.

My throat went dry.

Me [2:14 PM]

Yeah. I guess there is.

Val [2:14 PM]

Besides... I wasn't finished looking at you yet.

I licked my lips, breath shallow.

Me [2:14 PM]

What are we doing?

Ten seconds of silence. Then twelve. Then twenty.

Val [2:15 PM]

Having coffee. That's all.

Unless you want more.

Do you, Jake?

I didn't answer.

My cock pressed hard against the inside of my shorts.

Val [2:16 PM]

I'll be outside in fifteen. Don't keep me waiting.

I dropped the phone on my chest.

Closed my eyes.

I already knew I'd go.

I stood in front of the mirror, heart racing like I was about to get interviewed on national television instead of... whatever the hell this was. Coffee. Just coffee. Right.

I ran a hand through my hair for the fifth time, tugged the hem of my shirt, then stripped it off and tried another. Dark gray. Slim fit. Made my shoulders look a little broader. I left the top two buttons undone and stared at myself. Still looked like me. But... cleaner. Tighter. Like I gave a shit.

I changed my jeans too. Swapped out the wrinkled ones from earlier for darker denim, something that didn't scream slept-in. My heart hadn't stopped thudding since I read her last message. My cock hadn't softened much either. The weight of it throbbed slightly in my shorts before I adjusted and zipped up, annoyed at myself for how easily she messed with me.

I grabbed my phone.

Me [2:25 PM]

Can you park a little further down the road this time? Like past the Hendersons' house?

It didn't take long.

Val [2:26 PM]

Of course, baby. Wouldn't want mommy or daddy to get curious. ????

I exhaled slowly and pocketed the phone, pacing my room like it would calm me down. It didn't. I heard her text before I saw it.

Val [2:31 PM]

I'm here. ????

My chest tightened.

I moved fast, two steps at a time down the stairs, trying to act normal, calm, casual.

My mom sat on the couch, remote in hand, eyes half-watching something on TV.

"Hey," I said, "I'm heading out."

She looked over lazily. "Where to?"

I didn't flinch. "Nate's mom's taking us out for pizza."

She blinked once, then nodded. "Nice. Tell her I said hi. Enjoy the pizza."

I mumbled a quick "will do" and stepped out the door before the lie got heavy.

The heat outside hit immediately, sticky June air wrapping around me like a second shirt. I looked down the street. And there she was.

Two houses down, parked perfectly along the curb.

The car idled quietly, sunlight flashing off the windshield. And behind the glass. Her.

I walked toward it slowly, heart hammering again, pulse in my throat. My hand shook a little when I reached for the door. I climbed in.

And before I could even shut it, she had her arms around me.

"God, I missed you," she teased with a soft laugh, pulling me against her like it had been days instead of hours. Her lips brushed my cheek just enough to make my skin burn.

I froze, breath caught in my throat.

She pulled back only enough to let me see her. Really see her.

That top. Christ.

It clung to her like it was part of her skin, tight and strapless, wrapped snug under her full breasts, lifting them perfectly, baring the smooth expanse of her shoulders and collarbones. Her cleavage was shameless, deep, soft, lit just right by the sun bleeding through the windshield. Her flat stomach showed just a hint beneath the wrap, taut and warm and tan.

And those jeans.

Loose at the waist, but hugging her hips like they were molded for it. Ripped, casual, perfect. When she shifted, the denim pulled tight around the swell of her ass, the kind of curve that made you want to stare and get punished for it.

She wore sunglasses again, big, dark, hiding her eyes but not the smirk tugging at her lips. Her mouth was soft with color. That lipstick. It wasn't bold, but it made her lips look plump, kissable, wet. Like they belonged around something.

"Look at you," she said, dragging her fingers down my chest. "All dressed up. Just for coffee?"

My mouth went dry.

"I..."

She giggled again, light and breathy, and pulled away just enough to face forward. Her hand still rested on my thigh.

"Buckle up, baby," she said. "We've got a table to find."

The café was small and tucked between a dry cleaner and a florist. The kind of place with indie music playing softly overhead and real mugs instead of paper cups. It smelled like cinnamon, espresso, and something faintly floral. The light was warm through the windows, low and amber, like it wanted to touch everything.

Val looked unreal when she walked in.

Heads turned. Quiet glances over mugs. A man at the corner table paused mid-sip. A woman near the counter blinked slowly as Val passed, her hips rolling with that lazy, liquid stride like she didn't even know the effect she had.

She knew.

She slid into the seat across from me like she owned the space, like the whole table had been waiting for her. Her bag landed softly on the chair beside her. Her sunglasses came off. Her eyes found mine.

And then she smiled.

"Still nervous?" she asked, sipping her iced coffee with that slow, unbothered grace.

"A little."

"You don't have to be," she said, tilting her head. "We're just two friends having a drink."

My stomach twisted.

"Is that what we are?" I asked before I could stop myself.

She raised one perfectly arched eyebrow and paused, as if pretending to consider it.

"Would you rather we weren't?" she said, smiling, but there was something sharper behind it.

I hesitated. "I don't know."

Val laughed. Not loud, but quick and knowing. Like I'd told a joke she expected.

"Relax," she said, waving a hand. "It's coffee. Don't read a novel into it."

I nodded, cheeks a little hot. Stupid.

She crossed her legs under the table, and the motion made her shirt shift against her skin. That strapless top clung to her like it was scared to let go, the subtle rise and fall of her chest impossible not to watch.

She caught me. Of course she did.

"So," she said, stirring the ice in her cup with her straw. "How's the world of teenage boys? Still playing late-night games and ghosting girls?"

"I don't ghost," I said, almost defensively.

Her eyes sparkled. "Mmm. That sounds like something a ghost would say."

I shook my head, grinning in spite of myself. "You're impossible."

"Not impossible," she said, eyes flicking down to her drink. "Just misunderstood."

The air between us shifted. Softer. Quieter.

Then she looked up again, her voice lower this time. "You ever feel like things... just stopped making sense for a while?"

I frowned. "Yeah. Lately."

She nodded. "Happens. Happened to me, too."

I waited, and she kept going.

"After the divorce, I used to wake up and forget I was alone. That first five seconds in the morning were the worst. You'd reach over... and no one's there." She smiled a little, but it didn't reach her eyes. "But eventually, you stop reaching."

There was a silence after that. Not uncomfortable. Just real.

"I didn't know it hit you that hard," I said quietly.

"Everyone thinks it's easier when you're the one who leaves," she said. "It's not."

Another pause.

"Do you regret it?"

She leaned back, sipped her drink, and let the silence hang for just a moment too long. "No," she said finally. "But I regret wasting time trying to fix things that were already dead."

My fingers tightened around my mug.

She noticed.

"You'll learn that eventually," she said, gently. "Some people are just bad medicine. Even if they used to taste sweet."

I didn't know what to say to that.

"You think you're ever gonna get married?" she asked suddenly, tilting her head.

"I don't know. I mean... maybe?"

"Mmm." She took another sip. "Don't rush it. You'd make a terrible husband right now."

"Gee, thanks."

She smirked. "I'm just kidding. But you're still soft in the center. You care too much."

"And that's bad?"

"Not bad," she said, slowly licking a bit of cream from the edge of her straw. "Just... dangerous. Makes people think they can keep you."

She said it like a compliment. And not at the same time.

I stared at her, trying to piece her together. Every word felt like it meant something. But never the thing I thought it meant. It was like trying to read a map with missing cities.

"I like your shirt," she said then, casually. "It fits you better than the one you had on yesterday."

I blinked, caught off guard. "You noticed that?"

"I notice everything."

And just like that, she looked away. Back toward the window. Like we hadn't just been dissecting something sharp and personal. Like I hadn't just been peeled a little.

"Time moves weird when you're alone," she said, almost to herself. "I started drinking iced coffee again just to feel summer on my tongue."

I didn't know what to do with that.

So I just nodded.

She smiled again, turned back to me, and let her foot brush mine lightly beneath the table. Just once. Just enough to feel it.

Then she looked me dead in the eyes.

"You gonna finish that muffin, or just stare at it like it owes you answers?"

I laughed, half-nervous, half-dizzy.

And she smiled.

Like she had me exactly where she wanted me.

We finished our drinks in soft, comfortable quiet. Val kept stirring the ice in her cup long after it was empty, letting the rhythm fill the silence. She didn't rush. She never did. Eventually, she stood and grabbed her bag, adjusting the strapless top over her chest with a small tug that made my throat go tight.

"Ready?" she asked, like it was just another normal afternoon.

I nodded, sliding my chair back, following her out into the late sun. The air was heavier now, summer pressing down from above and radiating off the pavement.

She didn't seem to mind.

We got into her car without a word. I buckled in. She did too. Then she turned to me.

"Do you want to wait for Nate at my place?" she asked. Her tone was light. Innocent.

"Sure," I said. It came out too quickly.

The drive was short. The city blurred past in smudges of green trees and quiet intersections. She drove with one hand on the wheel, the other resting in her lap, her fingers tapping softly to the beat of the music humming through the speakers. It was something lo-fi, smooth and wordless.

She glanced over at me once when we stopped at a light.

"You always this quiet?"

I shrugged. "Not always. I'm just thinking."

"Dangerous habit."

I smiled. "You asked a lot of questions back there."

"Did I?" she said, feigning surprise.

"Yeah. Felt like I was being interviewed."

"I was curious," she said. "You have a very mysterious vibe."

I scoffed. "I'm not mysterious."

"Mmm. That's exactly what someone mysterious would say."

We both laughed. The light turned green. She pressed the gas gently, her fingers dancing back to the steering wheel.

"Music okay?" she asked.

"Yeah, I like it."

She nodded. "Good. Nate usually hogs the aux with whatever garbage he finds on TikTok."

I grinned. "Yeah, that checks out."

When we pulled into her driveway, Nate's car wasn't there.

Val glanced at the empty space beside her house but said nothing. She killed the engine and stepped out. I followed, the air buzzing again. It was this quiet anticipation I couldn't name.

She walked up the path ahead of me, barefoot again, the loose denim of her jeans dipping low on her hips with every step. The back of her top hugged her tight, the bare skin of her shoulders catching the light. She looked back once, catching my eyes, and smiled like she knew I was staring.

She pushed open the door, slow and smooth, and held it for me. I stepped in behind her. The familiar scent hit me all at once. Vanilla and heat and skin. Home, but not mine.

Her hand reached past me to close the door behind us. For a second, we stood there. Close. Too close. Her arm grazed mine, soft and warm. She turned her head and I could feel her breath near my jaw. Then she stepped back and slipped her shoes off with one toe.

"You want anything?" she called over her shoulder as she headed to the kitchen. "Water? Soda?"

"Uh... water's good."

She filled a glass and handed it to me. Our fingers touched, and neither of us moved right away. Her nails skimmed lightly over my knuckles as she let go.

"You can leave your shoes on if you want," she said, her voice light. "But I'm not your mom."

I swallowed. "I noticed."

She laughed softly and turned toward the living room, hips swaying in that loose, unbothered way that made my mouth dry. I followed.

The candle on the coffee table was still burning. Something creamy and slow and warm. Coconut and vanilla and maybe something floral beneath it. I couldn't stop breathing it in. Couldn't stop watching the way the hem of her jeans caught on her thighs as she sank down onto the couch.

"Come on," she said, patting the cushion beside her. "I don't bite."

I sat, careful to leave a little space, though it felt stupid. Like pretending nothing about this was charged.

She sat cross-legged, one bare foot peeking from a rip in her jeans, her elbow resting lazily on the back of the couch. The top she wore clung to her every breath. Her skin glowed in the natural light spilling in from the kitchen window, soft and golden, the line of her collarbone sharp under the fabric.

"You don't have to sit like I'm contagious," she murmured.

I shifted closer, just a little. She smiled.

"You ever just sit and let your brain turn off?" she asked.

"Sometimes. Not often."

"Try it."

She leaned back, eyes closed for a second. The whole house went still around her. I stared.

The curve of her neck. The soft arch of her chest under the tight white fabric. Her bare stomach rising and falling gently. She looked like something that didn't belong in real life. Too perfect. Too practiced. Too calm.

And yet she was sitting right there beside me. Like it was nothing.

"Comfortable?" she asked, opening her eyes again.

"Yeah."

"You look tense."

"I'm not."

She reached over and brushed her fingers down my arm. Light. Barely there. But enough to make my skin pull tight. Goosebumps.

"You're a terrible liar," she whispered.

I tried to laugh, but my throat caught.

Val leaned back again, stretching her arms overhead with a soft sigh, the fabric of her top tightening across her chest. Her head lolled to the side. Her eyes met mine.

"Just relax, Jake. You're safe here."

Then the garage door started opening.

It was slow at first, that deep mechanical hum that sent a ripple straight through my chest. I looked at Val, but she didn't flinch. She just leaned slightly, took a slow sip from her glass, and tilted her head like she'd been expecting it. Like she'd timed everything perfectly.

Nate walked in a few minutes later, duffel bag slung over one shoulder, grinning like he hadn't just interrupted something I hadn't even figured out how to name yet.

"Yo."

I stood from the couch too quickly, wiped my palms against my thighs. "Hey, man."

Val came around the corner from the kitchen, holding a half-eaten apple in one hand. She smiled, casual and warm, like she hadn't spent the last hour brushing her fingers over my skin and looking at me like she could read the blood behind my eyes.

"There's my boy." She pulled him into a hug, kissed the side of his head, fingers ruffling his hair like everything was back to normal. Her tone was light, familiar, no different than any other day.

"How was the trip?"

Nate shrugged, already setting his bag down by the stairs. "It was fine. Dad's still weird. The place is boring."

Val smirked. "Sounds about right."

He kicked off his shoes, flopped down on the couch beside me, close enough that our knees bumped. I tried not to move. My heart still hadn't slowed. My skin was buzzing.

"So did you see the trailer for the DLC?" he asked, pulling out his phone. "It dropped while I was gone. The new class looks broken. It's got this heavy armor spec that-"

I nodded. Answered. Smiled at the right parts. Said things like "yeah" and "no way" and "that's wild" while the back of my neck still burned from where her fingertips had touched me. I could still feel the warmth of her thigh near mine from before. My voice felt like it belonged to someone else.

Val passed behind us, slow and light. As she did, her fingers brushed the back of my neck. Soft. Just the edge of her nail. A whisper.

I flinched. Not big. Just a breath of movement. Nate didn't notice. He kept talking, kept scrolling on his phone, feet kicked up on the coffee table like nothing in the world had shifted.

But everything had.

I looked straight ahead, pulse throbbing in my jaw. Val didn't say a word. She just walked past, into the hallway, hips swaying in that slow, loose rhythm, her voice trailing softly behind her as she called over her shoulder.

"I'll be upstairs for a bit. You boys behave."

And then she was gone.

Later that evening, I headed upstairs to grab my charger from Nate's room. He stayed downstairs, half-yelling at someone through his headset, caught in whatever multiplayer drama had swallowed him whole.

The hallway was quiet. Dim. The light from the stairwell faded into gold shadows along the carpet.

I turned the corner.

And there she was.

Val.

Leaning against the wall in a pale robe that barely clung to her frame, tied loose at the waist, revealing just enough leg to make my throat tighten. Her hair was still down, cascading over one shoulder like a slow fall of ink. Her lips were parted slightly, soft and full with that same faint pink gloss, like she'd just licked them.

She didn't speak at first. Just looked at me. Eyes slow. Heavy. Reading me.

Then, in a voice quieter than breath, "You handled today perfectly."

My chest tightened. I couldn't even swallow.

"I just needed a moment alone with you," she said.

She stepped away from the wall and moved toward me, slow, barefoot, silent like heat. Her robe shifted around her thighs. The skin there looked impossibly soft. Touchable. She smelled like warm sugar and skin and something darker beneath it. Her hand found my chest and stayed there. Warm. Flat. Certain.

"You've been thinking about me all day," she whispered. "I can tell."

I couldn't answer. Couldn't move.

She leaned in, slow as smoke. Her lips brushed my cheek. Just a breath of contact. Then lower. The corner of my jaw. Her mouth lingered there, open and warm, like she wanted to taste the tension under my skin. I could feel her breath. I could feel everything.

Then she moved to the edge of my mouth. Her lips touched mine, not quite a kiss.

Not yet. Just presence. Promise.

My breath hitched.

And then she kissed me.

Soft. Full. Real.

No tongue. No rush. Just heat.

Her lips molded to mine, warm and plush and unbearably slow. She kissed me like it wasn't a question. Like the answer had already happened. Her hand slid to the side of my neck, fingers resting lightly there, not pulling, just holding me in place.

Just claiming me.

She tasted like peppermint and something sweet, like something forbidden.

I kissed her back.

Not because I meant to. Because I had to.

When she pulled away, her mouth lingered just a second longer, lips still brushing mine, eyes open. Watching me. Making sure I felt all of it.

Then she whispered, "Thank you. For keeping me company."

She touched my lower lip with her thumb, slow and barely there. And turned.

Her robe shifted as she walked, the fabric parting just enough to show the curve of her thigh as she disappeared into her room.

I stood there in the hallway, frozen. Heart pounding. Lips tingling. Reality bent around me like heat off pavement.

I was not the same.

*********************************************************

Nate stretched, cracked his neck, and gave me a quick slap on the back as I pulled on my hoodie.

"Alright, man. I'll text you tomorrow. I'm gonna crash early. That road trip sucked."

"You're not even gonna play tonight, when I get home?"

He yawned, rubbing his eyes as he walked toward the stairs. "I've got zero brain cells left. And you need to go home before my mom adopts you."

I laughed, maybe a little too quick. "Yeah, yeah. I'm heading out."

Val's voice called from upstairs, smooth and easy. "I'll drive him."

I turned to look. My body expected something else. Something tighter. Bare shoulders, glossy lips, another robe barely hanging on. But she surprised me.

She came down the stairs in a loose gray T-shirt and black joggers that hung low on her hips. No socks. Her hair was down, a little messy, a little wild like she'd just pulled it free from a braid. No lipstick. No show. Just soft. Real. Lethal in a completely different way.

"I picked him up," she said, like it was the simplest thing in the world. "Might as well drop him off."

Nate was already halfway up the stairs, tossing a wave behind him. "Fine by me. Night, dude."

I stood by the door, hoodie half-zipped, heart thudding like it didn't believe me. Like it knew the ride wasn't just a ride. That something was coming and it didn't know how to brace for it.

Val grabbed her keys from the counter. Her fingers brushed them off the hook like they weighed nothing. She gave me that small smile over her shoulder, the kind that should have come with a warning.

"Coming, sweetheart?"

She said it soft. Like a joke. But it pressed deep in my chest.

I followed. Of course I did.

The car smelled like her. Of course it did.

Vanilla, soft and warm, with maybe a hint of lavender underneath it, something clean and intimate, like fabric left to dry in the sun. The air inside the car was just a little warmer than it needed to be, cozy in a way that made me want to sink into the seat and stay there.

She pulled out of the driveway, her fingers loose on the wheel, nails short, unpainted. Her shoulders were relaxed, posture easy, like we were just two people out for a late-night drive. Nothing strange. Nothing secret.

"So," she said after a few quiet seconds, "how was your weekend?"

I gave a short laugh, glancing over at her. "You were there. You know how it was."

"True," she said with a smile, "but I like hearing your version."

The corner of her mouth curled, faint and unreadable. Her cheekbones were soft in the glow of the dashboard, her skin catching the light like silk. Her gray eyes stayed on the road, but they didn't miss a thing. They never did.

"I guess... it was good," I said. "Different."

"Different how?"

I shrugged. "I dunno. Quiet. Weird. But not bad. Just... different."

She made a soft sound, almost a hum. "You were good company."

I looked away, out the window. Houses slipped by like paintings in a gallery. Porch lights glowing through trees, glimpses of fences, mailboxes, dogs asleep in yards. I felt like I was drifting through someone else's life.

"You really didn't mind me staying over?" I asked.

She glanced at me, a flicker behind her smile. "Of course not. I asked you to stay, didn't I?"

"Yeah, but-"

"I don't ask people to do things I don't want," she said, and her voice was gentle but firm. "Especially not you."

That quieted me. Her fingers reached for the dial and turned the radio down until it was just a whisper. A soft melody lingered beneath our voices, nothing I recognized, but it made the space feel even more intimate.

"I liked talking with you," she said. "You're easy to be around. Nate's friends usually aren't like you."

"Like me?"

Her smile widened, just a little. "Attentive. Quiet in the right ways. A little shy."

I scoffed. "I'm not shy."

She glanced at me again. "Mm. You are. But it's charming. Makes you harder to read."

I couldn't tell if she was teasing or not. Probably both. She always was.

"You're not easy to read either," I muttered.

"Oh?" she said. "What am I hiding?"

I opened my mouth. Then shut it. She laughed.

"See? You think too much."

"You're the one asking all the questions."

"I like hearing what you think," she said. "Most people just talk at me."

The way she said that, quiet, thoughtful, tinged with something else. It made something twist deep in my chest.

"I... I like talking to you too," I said. "It's weird. It's easy, but... I feel like I'm always second-guessing."

"Why?"

"Because you say things that make me feel like I should know what's going on. And I don't."

She didn't look over. Just smiled a little and said, "You're very self-aware."

"Is that your way of saying I'm overthinking again?"

"No. It's my way of saying I like talking to someone who actually listens."

The road narrowed as we passed a stretch of trees, long branches overhead blocking what little light came from the moon. Everything grew quieter. No cars. No houses. Just the gentle hum of the engine and the flick of the turn signal ticking once, twice, before fading again.

"You're different from most people I know, Jake," she said, more to herself than to me.

I swallowed. "In a good way?"

She chuckled under her breath. "The best way."

Silence returned, but it wasn't empty. It was full of something else. Something that moved just under the surface of her voice, her glances, the way her hand occasionally brushed her thigh.

Then, softly, she said, "We should do coffee again. Just you and me."

"Yeah?" I asked, surprised at how fast I answered. "I'd like that."

"Maybe next weekend. Same place."

"You'd pick me up again?"

"Of course," she said, giving me a glance. "Unless you'd rather not be seen with me."

"What? No. Why would you say that?"

She shrugged with one shoulder. "Some people don't like being around a single mom who looks like me."

I stared at her. "Who looks like you?"

Her voice dipped slightly, a slight curl to her lips. "Too much makeup. Too many tattoos. Clothes too tight. That kind of thing."

I shook my head. "I think you look amazing."

She turned toward me, and the light from a passing streetlamp lit her face. Just for a second. Just enough to catch the soft curve of her smile.

"Thank you," she said quietly. "That means more than you know."

We slowed. I hadn't even noticed we'd left the main road. The sound of tires changed, from pavement to gravel, soft and uneven. I sat up straighter, blinking at the trees around us. Overgrown hedges reached out like arms from both sides, thick branches arched overhead, turning the road into a tunnel. Cracked pavement. No streetlights. No sidewalks. Just the hush of night and the closeness of everything.

It was a side street I knew. We were barely a block from my house, but it didn't feel like it. This stretch always felt forgotten. Hidden between places. Tucked away from the world like a breath no one finished taking.

Val's hands moved on the wheel without urgency, her fingertips tracing the leather as if the car responded to touch alone. The headlights cut soft curves through the shadows ahead. She slowed, eased the car into a stop between two leaning hedges, and let the engine idle.

Outside, the world was completely still. No passing cars. No porch lights. No noise at all. Just the soft rustle of leaves overhead and the steady rhythm of the engine beneath us.

The dash lights painted her skin in a low amber glow.

She didn't look at me yet.

She just sat there, one hand on the wheel, the other resting on her thigh, thumb absently brushing across her own skin.

Like she was thinking.

Or like she was waiting for me to.

I glanced at her.

She didn't look at me right away.

She sat back in her seat, fingers resting loosely on the wheel, exhaling like she'd finally reached the moment she'd been working toward. Neither of us said anything at first. Just the sound of the air conditioning brushing faintly across the windshield and the soft, distant throb of some mellow song still playing from the radio. The kind of song that didn't need words, just breath and keys and silence.

Then she turned her head, slowly.

"I've been thinking about something," she said, her voice smooth and low. Not playful. Not casual. Just quiet. Like it mattered.

My throat tightened. "Yeah?"

"That kiss. In the hallway."

My stomach did a slow somersault. Not a lurch. Just a full flip that left me a little breathless.

I met her eyes, uncertain. The soft gray of them seemed deeper here in the dim, like smoke in the dark. Like she could see right through me.

She tilted her head slightly, lips curling just at the corner.

"I wasn't sure how you'd react," she said, voice dropping to something nearly fragile. Almost tender.

I swallowed. "Me neither."

There was a pause.

Her gaze moved slowly across my face, my eyes, my mouth, the line of my jaw, like she was watching a ripple move across water. Like she wanted to memorize the shape of me.

Then she asked, softer now, "Did you like it?"

I hesitated. Not because I didn't know the answer, but because saying it out loud made it feel like more than a moment. It made it real.

But I nodded. "Yeah. I... yeah, I did."

Her smile returned, slow and satisfied, the kind of smile that pulled something hot and heavy through my chest. Like she'd known what I was going to say. Like she'd been waiting for it.

She leaned forward an inch, like a magnet pulling closer.

"I've been wanting to do it again," she whispered.

There was no warning after that. No more talking. Just her body shifting across the console, smooth and unhurried, her arm brushing my side as she leaned into me and closed the last few inches between us.

Her lips touched mine.

Warm. Soft. Full. She kissed me like she already knew how I'd taste. Like she was claiming it. Her mouth opened just slightly, enough for her tongue to tease against mine, a delicate flick that sent heat straight down my spine.

My breath caught. My whole body locked.

Her fingers brushed my jaw, slow and deliberate, then slid into my hair, nails grazing lightly against my scalp. She angled my face toward her and kissed me again, deeper this time. Needier. But still slow. Still in control.

Her body pressed against me, chest to shoulder, her breath mixing with mine in that tiny space between kisses. Her mouth moved with precision, sensual and sure, drawing out the moment like she wanted to stretch it forever.

When she finally pulled back, it wasn't much. Just enough to let the air hit my lips, still wet from hers. Her thumb traced the edge of my mouth, her eyes locked on mine, unreadable and molten.

"I've been waiting all day to feel you like this," she murmured.

I couldn't answer. My pulse was thudding too loud. My skin was too hot.

She kissed me again. Slower. Longer. And I let her. I would've let her do anything.

And for a moment the entire car was still, just the hush between breaths, the heat of her mouth pressed to mine. She kissed slow, deliberate, like she knew exactly how to unlock me and was enjoying every second of it. No rush. No question. Just soft lips and deeper meaning. My body responded without thought, lips parting, head tilting. Her tongue flicked at the seam of my mouth, teasing, coaxing, then pulling back, just far enough to look at me.

Without a word, she grabbed the hem of her loose shirt and peeled it upward, slow and smooth, like she knew my eyes wouldn't, couldn't look away. Her tits spilled free, heavy and perfect, her nipples hard from the cool air and the heat between us. She leaned close again, lips brushing mine, and whispered, "Don't touch yet. Just feel."

Her mouth met mine again, deeper now, her hand trailing down between us. I gasped when her palm settled over the bulge in my jeans, warm and certain. Her kiss didn't falter. If anything, it got hungrier. Her fingers stroked through the fabric, slow and patient, coaxing my cock to full hardness like she was molding it in her hand. I twitched under her touch, moaned softly against her lips.

Then her hand left me, for a second, and grabbed mine. She pulled it forward, pressing it low, guiding it under the waistband of her pants. I froze for a heartbeat.

Then I felt it, bare skin, smooth and hot and soaking wet. No panties. My fingers slipped between her lips easily, slick and warm and pulsing. My brain short-circuited.

"Feel what you do to me," she murmured, her breath hot against my cheek, her hand back on my cock now, stroking me slow and steady as I explored her heat. *Squelch* My fingertips slid over her clit and her hips bucked, breath hitching into a moan. "Ahhh... yes..."

"God, you're learning fast... you like how soaked I am?" she whispered, her voice shaking as I circled her slowly, teasing her entrance.

"I'm dripping, baby... you make me drip..." she breathed into my neck, her lips brushing it.

Then she pulled my hand back. Brought it to my mouth.

"Taste it for me baby," she said, eyes locked on mine.

I hesitated, then obeyed. My fingers tasted like her, like salt and sex and something I couldn't name. She watched me suck them clean with a slow smile that made my cock jump. "Good boy~" she whispered, then kissed me again, filthy and soft and praising.

And then she was gone, sinking down between the seats like gravity had pulled her there. Her hair spilled over my lap, and then I felt her breath. Then her lips.

Her mouth closed around my cock with a warmth that made me groan, loud and raw, my hands gripping the seat, my thighs tensing as she took her time, sucking slow, inch by inch, her tongue swirling just under the crown.

*Mmmhh... slurp* She moaned with me in her mouth, her tongue dancing along the underside of my shaft.

"You taste so good already..." she purred between licks. *Pop*. Her mouth left me with a wet sound before swallowing me again. *Glk... glk...*

"Don't move, baby... let me make you melt..." she whispered, voice honeyed and thick with lust.

She sucked deeper, *glk... glk...*, pulling another groan from me as my head fell back.

"Fuck... you're so hard for me... heavy in my mouth..." *Mmhhnn* Her moan vibrated around my cock and made my spine jerk.

Her hand slid up again. Took mine. Dragged it down her back.

She guided it to her ass.

God, her ass.

She let me grab it. Full palm. Soft and massive, hot through the fabric. I squeezed and she groaned around my cock, sending more vibrations straight up my spine. I hooked my fingers in the waistband of her pants and tugged them down just enough. Her ass spilled free into my hand, bare and flawless.

I grabbed it again, flesh overflowing between my fingers, and gave it a light slap.

*Ahhnn...* She moaned around me. Then giggled, soft and filthy.

"Do it again," she said around my cock, lips stretching, then sliding back down.

She bobbed faster, sloppier, the sounds filling the car, lewd and wet. *Slurp Slurp*

My hips started moving on their own. I couldn't help it. I was losing control.

My hand slid down, slipping between her cheeks. I felt the tight ring of her ass, traced it once, then down farther, back to her soaked pussy. *Squelch... squish...* I rubbed her gently, fingers instantly drenched again.

She pushed back into my hand, her moan caught on my cock. "Ghh-fuck... right there... "

Her mouth sucked me harder. Faster. She was moaning around me now, hands braced on my thighs, her throat fluttering. *Mmm... glk... glk... pop... ahhh...*

"You're gonna cum, aren't you?" she whispered up at me, lips slick and wet. "Cum in my fucking throat, baby."

I didn't last. Couldn't. The pressure broke in a sudden, helpless burst. I came with a cry, hips jerking, cock pulsing inside her mouth as she drank me down like it was sacred. *Gulp... gulp... slurp...* Her throat moved, her lips never leaving me, sucking me through the aftershocks until I sagged in the seat, trembling.

She pulled off with one last soft *pop*, and sat up like it was nothing. Shirt still off. Hair wild. Eyes calm.

"You're sweet when you're quiet," she whispered, like a kiss against my ear.

Then she hugged me. Tight. Warm. Full tits pressed to my chest like she didn't just ruin me.

And just before I got out of the car, she whispered, "Sleep well, baby."

I walked to the porch like I'd been hit by something. Turned. She was still there.

Watching. Smiling.

And I had no idea what the fuck had just happened.

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Author's note:

Part 3 - coming soon

-

Something shifts. Someone new.

And Val? She's not surprised. She's hungry.

Part 3 offers a new perspective, clearer, closer, and more intense.

Please share your thoughts about the story in the comments. And If you have any ideas that might fit in the story don't be shy and share them in the comments. I love reading comments and I wouldn't mind implementing your ideas if they fit.

Thank you for reading!

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