She lit another cigarette and her fingers tapped on the steering wheel. It had been years since she quit smoking, and now not even they could calm her nerves.
Bev rolled down the truck window and blew out a cloud of smoke. What in the world could she be thinking? He was her son's best friend.
Finally he appeared from the front doors of the gym carrying his gym bag. She held her breath. Her insides quivered. He had just showered and his hair was wet. He walked with a confident swagger that most boys his age didn't have, and yet he still had that boyish innocence. He might have been only a teenager, but he was a boy in a man's body.
He stopped at the curb and waved to another boy going off in the other direction with his parents. A smile started to form on her lips. From that angle she could see the bulge showing in the front of his jeans. She wasn't ashamed to admit it was what he had between his legs that interested her. It was what separated him from other men.
He started walking. She wiped her forehead. This was crazy. How had she ever found the nerve to tell his mother that she and Owen would be happy to pick him up so they could go to a movie? What would she do if his mother found out that she was picking up her son to take him home and fuck him?
She pulled up alongside him at the curb and rolled down the passenger side window.
"Hi Grant. Want a ride?" she said.
He stepped over and leaned against the door.
"Hi Mrs. Stills. Where's Owen?"
She took one last hit on her cigarette and threw it out her own window.
"Today I'm Bev," she said.
He grinned. "I didn't expect anyone to pick me up."
"Owen's with his father and his sister. They went to the baseball game. Do you want a ride?"
He opened the door and climbed in and threw his duffel bag in the back.
"Where are we going?" he said.
She put the truck in gear and started to drive.
"I told your mother I was taking you and Owen to see a movie."
"You talked to my Mom?"
"Of course. I had to give her a reason why you wouldn't be home right after practice," she said, and watched him out of the corner of her eye. For a second she felt a pang of regret for her husband. If she was lucky, he would never know what he was competing against.
"That was pretty smart."
"Just trying to cover all the bases," she said.
She put her hand on his thigh, near the warmth of his crotch. He let his legs spread.
"I hope I like the movie," he said.
She chuckled. She felt a stiffness between his legs pushing back against her hand.
"Are we going to your house?" he said.
She shook her head. "We can't go there. My husband could come home early. You never know with him. He might get suspicious if I brought you home to suck your cock."
He didn't answer. She could tell he was thinking about how she was going to suck his cock when it quickly grew stiffer under her hand and stretched down the leg of his jeans.
"We can't go to my house. My Mom is there," he said.
"No. I thought of that, too. My husband would just want a divorce. Your mother? I'd hate to see what she would do to me."
He turned to look in the back seat.
"I guess we can do it in the back," he said.
She snorted. "I didn't go to all this trouble for you to fuck me in the back of my truck."
He stared at her for a second.
"We're gonna fuck, too?"
His cock had become a ridge sticking up along his leg, from his crotch almost to his knee. She had to take her hand away to make a left turn, but immediately put it back on the hard ridge.
"Try not to get too excited, dear. I don't want you to shoot your wad before we even get out of the truck."
"Sorry," he said, and sat back, looking a little dejected.
She started to say something to chide him, but bit her tongue. When he displayed such a mature sense of humor it was easy to forget that he still had the sensitivity of a teenager.
"No, dear. My friend has an apartment. I've made arrnagements with her."
"That's cool. What's your friend's name?"
"Her name's Elizabeth, but she likes to go by Lizzie."
"Lizzie," Grant said, like he was testing the name. "Is she cute?"
Bev laughed. "Why do you ask that?"
He shrugged. "I don't know."
But she had an idea of what he knew. This man-child sitting next to her was discovering a new world where sex was better than the video games he played with his friends, and every girl he met was a possible conquest. She squeezed his cock through his jeans. Was she the one who had created this monster?
* * * *
Lizzie was holding a glass of wine when she opened the door. From the crooked smile on her face, that probably wasn't her first glass. Standing in the hallway, Bev groaned silently inside, but forced herself to smile.
"Bev, dear. Who's your friend?" Lizzie said.
"Lizzie, this is Grant."
Lizzie held out her right hand as they went into the apartment.
"Hello Grant. It's nice to meet you," she said, and shook his hand.
"Thanks," he said.
"Come in and sit down. Can I get you a glass of wine?"
"Uh, can I have a Mountain Dew?" he said.
A slight frown formed on Lizzie's lips and Bev rolled her eyes. She knew exactly what she was thinking.
"Have a seat, Grant. I'll see what I can find for you," she said, and dragged Lizzie into the small kitchen area by her elbow.
Lizzie yanked her arm out of her hand.
"Bev, have you lost your mind? You told me you were bringing a man over to fuck him. Stupid me, I thought you meant a man, not a boy," she said.
"He's not a child, Lizzie," Bev said, and opened the refrigerator, but she forgot what she was looking for.
"Oh no, he's not a child. What is he, twenty? Nineteen?"
Bev clenched her jaws. There was no easy way out of this. The only thing in the fridge was a Diet Coke.
