One Night Hall Pass with My Best Friend's Mother

Jake’s pulse hammered against his ribs the second Vanessa opened the door. Twenty-two years old and already hard just from the sight of her. His best friend’s mother stood there in a robe of deep emerald silk that clung like wet skin, the sash knotted loosely at her waist so the fabric gaped just enough to flash the deep valley between her heavy breasts. Forty-six looked goddamn criminal on her—full hips, thick thighs that rubbed together when she shifted her weight, and those tits that had haunted every one of his late-night jerk-off sessions since he was eighteen. The porch light caught the sheen of lotion on her cleavage. She knew exactly what she was doing.

“Jake, honey, come in before the neighbors start talking.” Her voice was low, smoky, the same voice that used to call them both inside for pizza when he and her son were kids. Now it scraped straight down his spine and settled in his balls. He stepped past her, catching the warm vanilla-and-skin scent that always clung to her. The house felt too quiet without Tyler’s gaming headset noise or slammed doors. Tyler was three states away for the weekend, chasing some girl he’d met online. Perfect timing.

Vanessa closed the door and turned, the silk whispering over her ass. “Kitchen sink’s been dripping like crazy. Thought you wouldn’t mind taking a look after dinner. You’re good with your hands.” Her eyes flicked down to the bulge he couldn’t hide in his jeans, lingered, then rose again with zero shame. Heat flooded his face, but he didn’t look away.

“Yeah. Happy to help.” His voice came out rougher than he meant.

She poured wine without asking—deep red that stained her lips when she sipped. They ate at the kitchen island, knees almost touching. She kept leaning forward so the robe parted another inch, the soft undersides of her breasts swaying free. Jake forced himself to talk about work, about classes, anything, while his cock throbbed against his zipper. Every time she laughed, those tits jiggled. He could see the dark circles of her nipples pressing the silk.

Halfway through the second glass she set her fork down and studied him over the rim of her wineglass. “You’ve been staring at me like that since you turned eighteen. Don’t think I never noticed.”

Jake’s mouth went dry. “Vanessa—”