Backseat Mommy: A Long Hard Ride

Backseat Mommy: A Long Hard Ride

Summary: Son slyly fucks Mom multiple times with Dad in the car.

Note 1: This is a Summer 2015 Contest story so please vote.

Note 2: Thanks to goamz86, Robert, and Wayne for editing this story.

Note 3: I had purposely avoided this type of simple plot device for years now... but I finally came up with an idea and a story I thought was worth sharing... I hope you agree.

Note 4: This story and the entire series was updated in October 2018 with a new edit by Tex Beethoven.

Backseat Mommy: A Long Hard Ride

You never realize how much stuff you've collected in your life until it's moving day.

With our youngest son finally going away to college, we did two moves in one. My husband Alex and I were moving into a condo only a few miles away, but first we were driving Cory sixteen hours away to college. Because we had to put all our things in storage (we wouldn't get title for another three weeks), we were planning a two-week road trip after we finished driving a few days drive to drop Cory off.

As we were packing the car, with all of Cory's stuff plus our suitcases for the almost three-week round trip, we found we had a major predicament. By the time the car was loaded, there was only room enough to seat two people: the driver and someone sitting in the back seat directly behind the driver. Everyplace else was piled to the roof with Cory's belongings and our suitcases.

My husband tried to reshuffle everything, but there was simply too much of it.

I finally suggested, "Cory and I could squeeze back there together."

"For sixteen hours?" Alex asked. "You'd end up totally on each other's nerves."

"Well, we'll likely have to take more rest stops this way," I shrugged.

"With your teacup-sized bladder, we'll need to do that regardless," Alex quipped, always annoyed by how often I needed pit stops. He was a put-the-pedal-to-the-metal-and-keep-it-there kind of guy, while my bladder was the kind of traveler that always insisted on stopping to smell the roses. (Or if there wasn't anyplace official to stop, perhaps just to make the roses smell.)

I turned to Cory, who was slim like I was, "Can you handle sixteen hours cramped beside your old mother?"

"Only if I have to," my son, always sarcastic, agreed grudgingly. He felt resistant, but he realized the only alternative would be to leave some of his stuff behind, which wouldn't be acceptable at all.

"Be careful with that attitude, young man," I shot back playfully. "You're going to be stuck next to me for sixteen hours, so you're probably better off if I'm in a good mood."

I should note it was a very hot August day and I was wearing a sundress for the drive, to stay as cool as possible.

We all did one more pee check, which I of course made use of, then Cory and I squeezed next to each other into the cozy spot big enough for one.

Alex asked, with sarcasm just like his son's, "Comfy cozy?"

With Cory's right elbow poking into my breast, I quipped, "Like a cow in a Pullman car."

"Moo," Cory added, shifting a bit more, resulting in even more pressure on my left breast, since on the other side I was crammed up against a pile of boxes that was stacked to the roof.

We were just out of the city half an hour later, when I objected, "This isn't working."

"You don't enjoy being crowded together like a sardine?" Cory asked, as he set aside the book he was reading on his iPad, like I too was attempting, my Kindle app the only app really worth owning.

"Not particularly," I agreed, as I wriggled around ineffectively before suggesting, "Maybe I could just sit on your lap for a while."

"Okay," my son nodded, agreeing with me for a change.

I climbed onto his lap and sighed, "Now that is much better."

"Agreed," Cory said.

"I'm not too heavy for you, am I?" I asked. At forty-six I was still in great shape. I was slim with big breasts, with a firm ass and tight legs. Selling real estate, I knew that my looks played a key role in my sales. Sex sells, always has, always will. So normally I dressed in professional but sexy business suits, or stylish dresses with nylons and four-inch heels. My 38d natural breasts were always showcased, as I counted on them to help me close more deals than the actual real estate I was selling.

"No, you're fine," he answered, shifting slightly.

As Alex continued driving, I soon noticed two things:

1. Wearing a short, skimpy dress had been a bad idea, as I was now sitting on my son's lap, my skirt not quite covering my butt, and a narrow thong the only barrier between my vagina and my son.

2. My son's penis was hard and I could feel it pulsing directly under my vagina.

My son, who was rather nerdy in high school like his father had been, and having been offered full ride scholarships to over a dozen colleges, he had really blossomed physically by working in construction all summer. Gone were his scrawny arms, replaced with impressive muscles. I had complimented him frequently on his summer reformation. My boy had become a man.

Yet now, as we drove along a bumpy section of road that was under construction, I realized my boy had indeed turned into a man, as I could feel his erect manhood directly beneath me.

With each bump his hardness rubbed against my vagina, and even though I tried to control myself, it was getting me wet. I considered adjusting where I was sitting, but was worried it would embarrass him if I let on that I could feel his erection. So instead, I tried to control my bouncing by pressing my hands down on the seatback in front of me.

Yet for about ten minutes, which felt like an eternity, my son's erection, thankfully trapped behind his shorts, kept rubbing against my very wet woman parts and driving me crazy.

Finally the road smoothed and now his tumescence was just resting quietly, but it was still hard and I could still feel it prominently, directly underneath my opening. I knew I should move, even an inch or two sideways would probably help, yet I still felt obligated to remain frozen in place. Partly because I was worried I would embarrass him if I moved, but also partly, undeniably, because the position I was sitting in right now felt so damn good.

For twenty minutes my vagina rested on his erection, which never shrank, while chatting with my husband as much as possible to distract myself from the awkward situation I was in.

Finally I saw an upcoming rest stop and suggested we stop.

Just as Alex was slowing down, I felt the insistent flinching of Cory's penis. It flinched three times, each time pressing itself up ever so slightly but still noticeably against my labia.

I moaned, unintentionally.

Alex asked, "You okay, Sarah?"

"I just need to stretch for a bit," I answered, my face burning red at getting aroused from sitting on my son.

"I could grab a drink," my husband nodded, as he pulled into the stop.

"Me too," I agreed, feeling a bit dehydrated.


Once we rolled to a stop I joked to Cory, "I imagine you're dying for a break, too."

"No, I've been enjoying the ride," my son answered without implying any sort of sexual innuendo. Truth be told, except for my frustration and guilt, part of me had been enjoying the ride too, but if I dared to mention it, there would be a definite sexual charge to my words, so I remained silent.

My face, which was already quite flushed, went a shade darker as I opened the door and climbed out. I'm not sure if my face could get any redder than it already was, but as my son climbed out and stood up, two things were apparent:

1. His erection was poking out against his Adidas shorts.

2. The shorts had a prominent wet spot that undoubtedly had come from me.

I turned away and headed for the washroom, mortified that my fluids had soaked into my son's shorts. Once inside, I pulled my panties down and couldn't believe how wet they were.

Now I should note I've always gotten wet easily, and I was quite a flooder when I got off. I also had a ferocious sexual appetite that my husband could seldom satisfy... thus I had a variety of sex toys on hand to finish the job he usually couldn't complete. I had a we-vibe, a couple of vibrators, anal beads, a butterfly toy I could wear while I was away from the bedroom, which was currently in my purse, and my newest acquisition, a massage vibe... which was literally orgasmic.

Deciding I needed to quell my burning cunt (fuck the niceties, I was so horny I could hardly stand), I leaned against the wall in a stall and began pleasuring myself. Not surprisingly, the half-hour-plus of Cory's unintentional teasing (I hoped it was unintentional, but I certainly wasn't going to ask) had me already revved up, and I came in no time at all. My pussy juice had spilled down my leg when I came, so I awkwardly cleaned myself up with toilet paper.

Once I was recovered more or less, I also wrung out my panties while they were wrapped in toilet paper to try and make them less damp, but after putting them on, I could still feel their humiliating wetness. Usually I loved sex. I loved coming; but the constant reminder by these wet panties that my son's cock had gotten me horny was too much to bear, so I took them back off.

Instead, I hid the sexy wet thong in my purse and went to the sink to wash my hands and legs. Unfortunately, a mother with her child came in, so all I could do was wash my hands thoroughly, hoping that would be enough to hide the scent of my own cum.

Leaving the washroom, I decided there was no way I would sit back on my son's lap. I figured that instead, we would have to persevere squished side by side. I purchased a coke and a bag of chips from a vending machine and headed back to the car.

Fuck, I thought as I left the shaded area of the rest stop and the summer sun pounded into me. It was a fucking sauna out here. I wanted to get a change of panties from my suitcase, but decided not to: how would I be able to explain that? 'Oh, I just feel like a change' would sound really stupid and inevitably lead to further questions. No thanks.

My husband and son were leaning against the car chatting when I walked up to them.

"So, less than fourteen hours left," Alex quipped, with a playful smile. "Piece of cake."

Cory replied, "I don't know about the cake, I think it's going to be a tight ride."

I couldn't tell for sure, maybe it was just the self-conscious part of me, but he seemed to stress the word 'tight'.

I joked, realizing only after the words had left my mouth that they only added to the innuendo if he was implying one, "Yes, it will likely result in some unavoidable mom and son bonding."

"Well, it's you two back there for the whole drive," my husband added. "No way can I fit back there with anybody."

That was true. My husband was a big man, and there was no way my son or I would be able to fit either side by side with him or on his lap.

Nope, I still had just under fourteen hours to spend with my son in the backseat. The next stretch without any underwear.

Fuck.

My son climbed back into the car first and patted his lap.

I'd intended to get in first and suggested, "Shouldn't we try side by side again?"

"It's okay, Mom," he said, patting his lap once again.

"You sure?" I asked, knowing it could get awkward without my wearing any panties and my pussy still damp... the aftermath dribble of a strong orgasm.

"Side by side will be too tight," he replied. "We already learned that the hard way."

There's that word 'tight' again, I thought. Is he saying that on purpose?

"But I'll crush your legs," I pointed out, desperate to avoid sitting on his cock again... having enjoyed it too much the first time.

He shrugged dismissively, "Oh Mom, you're not heavy at all."

"You sure?" I asked again, still tentative, as I looked down and could still see the shading of a pussy juice stain on his shorts, as well as the clear outline of his cock... which at least no longer looked to be completely erect.

"Mom, it's not hard at all," he answered, now repeating the word 'hard' .

The naughty side of me wanted to respond, 'but it likely will be hard quite soon', but the good mom in me responded, "If you're sure I won't smother you?"

He shrugged, "I can handle whatever you give me."

So I sat back down on his lap, his words again possibly dripping with innuendo, this time adjusting myself sideways to sit more onto his leg to avoid his crotch.

For half an hour I sat precariously but reasonably virtuously in that spot as we continued driving. Then I felt his hands on my hips as he informed me, not asking for my opinion, while he lifted me up slightly, "Mom, we need to change positions."

When he lowered me back down, my pussy was again directly seated on his cock, which was again stiff and prominent. I couldn't help but let out a slight moan as my naked pussy once again responded to its pressure. (I realize that the last time I was sitting in this position I was calling it a penis, but anything that could get me this horny was no clinical penis, it was a damn cock.)

For the next half hour, even though the road was smooth, I kept feeling his cock flinching periodically, which made my pussy tremble and get excessively wet.

Alex asked, "Comfortable back there?"

My son replied, "It's tight, but good."

I gasped because while he was saying that, I felt three distinct movements of his cock.

"You okay, Sarah?" Alex asked, as I felt some wetness leaking out of me.

"I'm good," I responded. I wanted to move away, but I knew without a doubt that I'd deposited even more wetness on my son's crotch, and if I moved (not that there was anywhere to move to), it would be clearly noticeable. The ability to enjoy wet multiple orgasms had always been a great joy to me, but right now it was my kryptonite.

"Next stop is almost an hour away," Alex informed his passengers courteously.

"No worries," I responded, trying to be causal.

Cory added, "Yeah, although it's getting hot back here."

"The air is on full," Alex informed him, and indeed I wasn't overly hot, except down below. This time Cory's words were definitely filled with innuendo. My son was flirting with me!

"I think it's Mom's body resting on mine that's making me so hot," Cory said, as he again flexed his cock directly against my pussy... his intent now perfectly clear. His words also had two very different meanings, one for his Dad and quite a different one for me.

After another minute, Cory asked, "Dad, can you turn the radio up?"

"If I do, I won't be able to talk with you, I can barely hear you now," Alex objected.

"That's okay," Cory reassured him, "we'll just let you drive and rock out to your eighties tunes."

"It's the eye of the tiger," my husband began singing as he turned up the radio to the Survivor tune.

Cory was doing something with his phone. Suddenly my phone rang out, announcing a text message.

It was in my purse, which was on the floor, so I reached down, and in doing so I ground my pussy into my son's very hard cock. I couldn't deny it... I was incredibly aroused.

I snagged my phone and leaned back up again, unable not to grind my very wet pussy against him again, and I saw the text was from my son.

Perplexed, I clicked on it.

Why are you not wearing panties?

I gasped again. Although this time the music was too loud for my husband to hear me.

I didn't know what to say.

A second message followed.

And why are you so wet?

I still didn't know what to say.

I was paralyzed with indecision. Obviously I should stop this inappropriate texting in its tracks. Yet I was incredibly horny, so I wasn't thinking like a mother or a wife, but like a wanton woman.

As I stared at my phone, shocked by my son's brazen words yet equally turned on, I was startled as I felt Cory's hands grasping my hips, lifting me up.

I leaned up slightly against the driver's seat, bumping my husband.

Alex glanced back so I said, trying to act casual even as my mind was turned to mush, "Sorry, just changing positions."

"I'm sorry about this situation," he apologized.

"It is what it is," I replied, not blaming him, as I felt my son's hands on my hips as he lowered me back down onto his lap and... and right onto his hard cock!

I yelped in surprise and Alex asked as he turned down the radio, "You okay?"

"Yes, I just got poked by something in a box," I responded weakly, unable not to say something naughty, an amazing pleasure coursing through me as my son's cock, which I now had excellent reason to know was bigger than my husband's, was buried deep inside me, his hands firmly on my hips, holding me in place.

"Okay," he nodded, as he turned the radio back up as another eighties tune, Bryan Adam's 'Summer of 69', began.

I just sat there; still in complete shock that my son's cock was buried deep inside me, anchoring me in place.

I just sat there; the urge to start riding my son's cock growing with every second it remained inside me.

I just sat there; wondering what my astonishing son was going to do next.

I just sat there; secretly wishing Cory would take even more control.

I just sat there; worried that if my son did take control, I would be unable to conceal the obvious reality that we were committing incest just inches away from my husband.

I just sat there and... judge me if you must... enjoyed the ride, every bump in the road giving me fresh pleasure as Cory's cock surged up inside me. I had to use all my will power not to moan, not to alert my husband to the incestuous adultery I was committing and I couldn't deny, committing willingly.

Yet, I was frustrated that my son, who had been so brazen as to slide his cock into me, was now just sitting there reading his Kindle, as if his cock weren't buried deep in his mother's box.

I just sat there for over half an hour, doing nothing but allowing myself to be teased like crazy.

I had to use all my willpower not to just give in to my insatiable hunger and begin bouncing wildly up and down on my son's cock.

I had to use all my willpower not to moan in response to every bump on the highway, especially when Alex occasionally drove across some rumble strips, making my body tremble and my pussy quake.

I had to use all my willpower not to grind my pussy on his cock to get myself off, the teasing of a quiescent cock nestled inside me but not doing a damn fucking thing driving me nuts!

Alex startled me, since my head was miles away, when he announced, "Twelve miles to the next stop."

This seemed to prompt my son finally to take control. He began slowly lifting me up and down on his cock.

I clamped my lips together to make sure I wouldn't moan as a mixture of emotions swirled through me.

Excitement, because my son was finally taking control.

Humiliation, because I was excited he was taking control.

Pleasure, because the slow fucking was now coursing through every fibre of my being.

Frustration, because he wasn't fucking me hard like I liked it, although I knew there was no way that was a good idea.

Guilt, because I was allowing my son to fuck me. Theoretically, when his cock had been only motionlessly lodged inside me I hadn't been allowing him to fuck me. I had simply been allowing him to penetrate me. I know that's a pitiful technicality, but it had been all I had left to grasp onto... and now it was gone.

But then my son let go of my hips, handing the decision over to me.

This was my chance to put a halt to this. To lift up my body and eject his cock from my very wet pussy. To take parental control of this bizarre situation.

Nothing Between Us

This was not a story I intended to write. I happened to stumble upon the story Lovebird's Ch. 01 by baloden here on Literotica. I liked the idea of the story very much and decided I wanted to write it in my own style. Baloden kindly gave me permission to use his story frame.

This is a First Time story of two long-time friends who finally dare to let it happen. I tried my hardest to balance being extremely erotic with plausible. Two virgins have no idea what they are doing. They only have their desires to guide them. If you take the time, you will discover page after page of sex in here, but it does take time to get to. I, of course, think the build up is worth it, or I would have deleted the lot. I have no interest in wasting your time, but in the end for me it is the relationship that makes the sex erotic, not the other way around.

Oh, a last little note. Our female protagonist's name is Thuy. It's hard to tell you exactly how to pronounce this, but Twee, or just Tee, is pretty close. Just don't say Thooey.

Have fun.

--

It was my mother who told me.

"Jennifer, I mean, Thuy's back from Yale for spring break, Jacob."

Thuy's our neighbor and an old classmate of mine from high school. We had been friends since we were children. One day when she was eleven, she had randomly decided her new American name would be Jennifer. I argued for something like Thea that would be at least close to Thuy, but she stuck with Jennifer and in time only her family and I were left using her original name. My mom sometimes accommodated me.

"That's cool," I replied as I stuck my hand in the Frito bag.

"When's the last time you saw her?"

"Uhh... I guess last summer. The Nguyens all went on that skiing trip over Christmas, so she wasn't here then."

"That's a long time for you two."

"Yah. But we message each other some during the semester, so I know what's up."

Actually, Thuy and I messaged each other every week at least, but I didn't need to go into that.

"Well, why don't you go check in?"

"Yeah, ok." I stuck another bunch of chips in the dip bowl and popped them in my mouth.

"You don't want to see her?" my mom asked as I munched away.

"Huh? What?"

"Well, you don't seem in any rush."

"You just mentioned it to me! Anyway, I'm not just going to go over there for no reason."

"Just go welcome her back. It's not that complicated."

"Mom. Guys do not just go to people's houses to welcome them back. I'd have to take a gift basket or something to complete the image. Maybe some doilies that I had knitted."

My mother sighed and went to stick her head in the fridge looking for something. "Guys don't ever get girlfriends either," she muttered under her breath.

My ears turned pink. Had she said what I think she did?

She tossed an onion on the counter and then suddenly fixed me with an I-cant-believe-you-actually-are-acting-like-this look. "I just don't get you two."

"Who? Me and Thuy?"

She sighed exasperated. "For a kid as smart as you, you're awfully clueless sometimes. Yes, of course!"

I didn't really like where this conversation was headed. What had gotten into my mom? "What's not to get?"

"For two people who fit together like you do... it's just a waste is all. Are you scared? 'Cause I understand that, Jacob."

"Mom, we've talked about this before. There's nothing like that between us. We're friends. She dates. I date. We talk about our dates to each other."

"Must be a one-sided conversation 'cause I haven't seen you go out on a date in some time."

"I date."

"You haven't gone out in weeks."

"I do have this whole full-time job thing with school at the same time."

"I know."

"And besides I don't tell you everything."

"Oh." She seemed pleased. "Really? Oh. Well, that's good. Sometimes I think you don't have any secrets. It's not healthy for you to not have anything to hide from me."

"Well, don't worry. There's plenty of stuff you don't know about me."

"Good."

"Good."

She didn't say anything.

"Well, all right then." I did have secrets, didn't I? Maybe I did need to get out more. "I'm gonna go play some basketball in the driveway."

"Seems like a good idea."

I was grabbing a ball in the hallway on the way out when my mother called after me. "Bouncing a ball really loud to get someone's attention is a lot more manly than knocking on a girl's door!"

I slammed the door behind me. What had gotten into her? Besides, I was really in the mood to shoot some hoops. What? She thought I was going to run around in circles trying to make a lot of noise to get Thuy's attention? I was 20, not 12. She must think I was a peacock or something. Maybe one of those lizards with the big fans on their neck. I imagined my lizard fans sticking out while I paraded in the driveway, scratching the dirt, then threw the ball up at the goal, rattling it good. What'd she know?

I caught the ball as it came down, ran to the corner, and sent it back up, swishing it in cleanly.

I had learned to shoot mostly because of Thuy. When we were eight, we learned that her parents would let her stay out shooting balls with me 'til it was good and dark. Thought it was good exercise for her instead of reading all the time. It wasn't the first thing we had come up with to spend more time together. We also competed relentlessly in school, always trying to get a better score than the other. I still remembered the first time I heard a slam on my window and looked out to see Thuy pushing some A in Reading or Social Studies against the glass. As we moved into high school, we still competed, but it was entirely unspoken. I loved it when she got an award I was up for.

Thuy was finishing off her second year of Yale now, while I was still at home, taking classes at the U. I had spent a semester at Cornell, but then my mother got sick, and I was needed at home. I spent about a month resenting it, until I discovered my mom crying over my old acceptance letter at the kitchen table. I got over it.

The ball came down through the net, so I ran threw it, down the baseline, and then did a quick pivot and shoot. In again.

We were a funny pair, Thuy and I. My family had been in Arkansas at least four generations that we knew of, while Thuy and family arrived in the house next to us when I was six, all the way from Vietnam, via a year in Minnesota. In fact, they lived on the last lot we had sold off from the family farm. It was suburbia now with one white wooden house and screen porch, mine, and a row of nice little brick ranches, hers.

I did a couple quick free throws as the ball came out. Both went in cleanly.

I wasn't a great basketball player being a short six feet, but I had learned to shoot. Our team made it to the state semis with me as mostly an outside shooter. Coach kept me out there, because I had never figured out how to get past the six-foot-ten guys. But give me a couple inches of free space and the odds were it was going in.

I took the ball again, pretended to pass, then ducked to the outside line. The center tossed the ball out to me from the double team on him. The clock was ticking down. I heard the crowd counting. 5. 4. I launched it up. The ball hit the rim, went flying up in the air, and then fell in with a little swoosh.

"I always said you could make that shot 19 times out of 20."

I turned to Thuy with a big grin. She stood not three feet from me in low jeans and a white top, with her trademark hair that cascaded to the middle of her back. The corner of her mouth was turned up in that little smile she had been showing me since she was six.

"Hey, you," I replied. "20 out of 20 would have been better."

Thuy sank cross-legged on the driveway. What could be more home than this? "I can't believe you are still beating yourself up about missing a shot. It was freaking high school, and if you hadn't made the rest of them, we'd never have even made the state tournament, much less lose by one in the semis."

I tossed the ball in the net and let it bounce away. "You know," I said sitting. "My goal in life was to peak at 18 and find eternal glory in the school trophy case. With that other guy, and the other one with the funny shorts. But since I missed, I'm gonna be forced to do something else with my life."

"That's gotta suck."

"I was going for brain-dead DirecTV addict at 19, but now I'm 20 and gotta keep thinking and crap."

"I hates thinkin'."

"I hates rabbits," I replied in my Yosemite Sam voice. I brushed my brown hair back out of my eyes and we looked at each other.

"How long-"

"How've you-"

We both spoke at once.

"You go," I said.

"Naw, you."

"Uh-uh."

"I ain't talkin'."

"That's your Yale education? 'I ain't talkin'?"

"Don't get on me. I learned English from you, remember?"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah." She'd been blaming me for every English mistake she ever made for years. When Thuy first arrived next door, she only spoke Vietnamese. Her dad spoke English some, but he wasn't around much, so it was up to six-year-old me. Since she was now publishing essays in magazines and such, I guess I did an OK job.

"It's 'cause of you, I have this accent that goes over so well in the Asian-American Advocacy Consortium at school."

"Hell, don't put that one on me. Your accent is stronger than mine is and you know it."

"I know it, but you always turn so lovely pink when I tease you. I could charge admission and show off the Great Glowing Boy." Thuy started laughing. "See! See! You're a light bulb," she declared and started singing the tune to Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer.

"Good to see this hasn't changed."

"I'm always here to help, Jake."

"Not enough," I thought then realized I'd said it out loud.

Thuy got quiet suddenly. "That's not fair."

"I didn't mean anything. It was just a thought that got out."

Suddenly, Thuy was standing and staring past me. I followed her eyes to discover my mother walking towards us. She embraced Thuy and hugged her tight. "I'm glad to see you again, Jennifer."

"Thanks, Mrs. B."

"How was school?"

"It's over for a week or two, so it's good."

"I'm glad to see you around. You've always been a part of our family, you know."

"I'm not going anywhere," she said with a look to me.

My mother turned to me. "And I'm glad to see the basketball still works."

"Umm – yeah, it still goes in the basket. Funny, that." I tried to give a look to Thuy but she seemed to be hiding her face behind her hair.

"Jacob, I'm gone. I'll see you on Monday," Mom said quickly.

"Monday? Where are you going?"

"My getaway at the cabin. I'll take the cell but if you call me with both legs attached, I'm gonna come after you."

"I don't remember this."

"That's 'cause you never listen to a word I say."

"Isn't it too late to drive that far?"

"It's not past 3:00, Jake." She kissed Thuy's cheek. "Good to see you again, Jen." As she got in the car, she called out, "Keep him out of trouble."

"I wonder what she my mom thinks we are going to do?"

"Drugs."

"Oh, yeah."

"Did you bring the crack pipe?"

"Left it at school."

"That's too bad."

"Yeah."

"You know you should get it fixed."

"The crack pipe?"

"Yeah."

"I'm embarrassed that I heard that."

"It was a stretch, I'll admit."

"Oh, Jake, there's this guy in my dorm that hangs out with the crew sometimes. Worst forced jokes ever. Ever."

"Let's go inside."

"Yeah, OK." She talked as I held the door for her. "You've no idea how bad it is. He'd try to make a joke after a documentary on Human Trafficking or something. No sense of appropriateness."

"You should tell him so."

"We do! I do! We've thrown things at him. He thinks he's our court jester or something."

"Maybe if you threw sharp objects, he'd get the point."

"That's overkill, don't you think?" We both paused and grinned at each other.

"Oh my god, I'm embarrassed for you."

Thuy fell on the sofa in the living room with me on my beanbag chair just as it had always been.

--

"It's eight o'clock, Thuy."

She glanced at the clock. "I'm gonna go tell my mother I won't be back for dinner."

"I'll order a pizza."

Thuy didn't turn around as she left, she just yelled back, "No, we're going out."

Going out? When was the last time the two of us went out? I ducked into the shower while Thuy was out.

About five minutes later I was buttoning my khakis, when I heard, "Jake, get this--" and Thuy turned the corner into my bedroom. For no good reason, I felt a little embarrassed with no shoes or shirt and my brown hair still dripping water down my skin. "Oh. Sorry, I--" Thuy started. Was she a bit embarrassed herself?

"Naw, it's OK."

"I didn't realize. I'll just--"

"It's OK, Thuy," I insisted. "It's not like we never went swimming before."

"OK, uh..." she seemed confused. "Jake, hun, have you been working out?"

"Very funny."

"No, seriously," she paused for a second. "Jake, you turned into a hottie!"

"Go away." I went into the bathroom to comb my hair.

She appeared in the doorway and looked at me again. "Why won't you confess to working out?"

"Because I don't."

"Ok, ok." I chose a dark gray long sleeve and pulled it over my head. "So that's from the moving job? I'm going to tell my future boyfriends to become movers."

I did know I was lifting things easier now than when I started. Did it actually show? I wanted to flex to see if there was any change but remembered Thuy was watching.

"So, what did your mom say?"

"Get this." She handed me a note in Vietnamese. I had taught myself a little bit two or three years back for some unknown reason, but all I could make out was her name, Tuesday, aunt, and a little more.

"What's the bit on the second line?"

"I had to think about that for a second, too. So basically, she's gone to help my aunt who's nursing my uncle. She'll be in Nashville until Tuesday. I called her, but all she said was that everyone was fine, she shouldn't talk on the highway, despite the fact that that is all she does, and to stay safe. And say hello. Oh, and she was somewhere around Jackson, Tennessee. That means she left 15 minutes after we said hello."

"That's a bit weird."

"Yeah, and since my dad gets back in town on Thursday, it's just me."

"Guess we'll rent some movies or something."

"Guess so. Look, you are too well dressed for me now. I'm going to go change. Meet me in the driveway."

I found some socks and shoes and headed out. The night was a little cool with not a cloud, letting the whole sky sparkle softly. Not even the moon dared challenge the stars tonight. I gazed upwards slowly naming the constellations and stars that I knew until I felt a poke in the ribs.

My eyes traveled down to find Thuy standing next to me also looking at the stars above. She wore a simple black dress with thin straps and a plunging neckline and back. The dress fell at an angle across her legs from mid-calf on one side to just above the knee on the other. A thin gold plate necklace lay around her slender neck and something small sparkled in her ears, reflecting the light of the streetlamps and the stars.

My best friend was beautiful.

Since I was six feet and she was five-foot-two, my eyes kept falling down her chest where I could see white cups supporting her breasts. When I realized where I was staring, I tried to look up at the stars and not at her.

"Did you watch the Leonids this year?" she asked me.

When we were in the seventh grade, Thuy had done a report on meteors and the Leonids meteor shower. We had snuck out of our windows at one in the morning that night to lie on the grass watching the stars fall.

"Not this year," I told her. I wanted to say something. About how she looked. About how beautiful she was.

"It was a good display."

"Too bad I missed it."

"Veejay and I drove out to this hillside to watch it, but too many lights in the area really." I don't know why but I felt a lump in my throat.

"How's he doing?"

"Fine, I think. We broke up about a month ago."

"I'm sorry, Thuy. I know you liked him. He always sounded decent when you messaged about him. Not a slimeball anyway."

"Yeah, he's a good guy, but it wasn't there. Neither of us was devastated when it ended."

"Hey now that you are back on the market, you will find someone else that gets your blood pumping."

"Gets my panties wet, you mean."

I laughed. "If that's your thing."

"Of course, it's my thing. I can get horny too even if I haven't consummated."

"I want to hear more about this horny thing you've got going."

"Uh-huh. I 'm sure you do."

"Tell me, tell me."

She threw a devilish smile at me and said, "Well, let's go eat and I will tell you all about the Yummies that get me going."

Thuy drove and did tell me of all her prospects. There was the tall Brazilian soccer player with long muscles who was all over her, and she wouldn't mind if he had been all over her, if he had ever bothered to care if she was dating someone else or not.

"Don't you worry that if he doesn't care whether or not you're dating now that he won't care when he's dating you?"

"Jake, it's not a long-term relationship with him that I'm after."

She also told me about the thin, silent guy in black in Eighteenth Century lit class who kept stealing glances. I even got to hear about BOAC, "Best Ass on Campus". Turned out he was gay, so she and her friends let him keep the title, but they had to identify a BOAC II.

"Aren't the letters wrong? Shouldn't it be BAOC?"

Thuy giggled. "I just know he's BOAC. Maybe BAOC's too hard to say."

As we hit town, it was already getting late and most restaurants were closed. We ended up eating some greasy hamburgers and nachos at some bar stools, totally over-dressed for the occasion.

"So what about you?"

"Me?"

"Yeah, who do you want to do?"

"Like a celebrity?"

"No, I mean who are you dating. Work with me here."

"I don't have much time for girls right now."

"You've got time to look."

"I don't wanna talk about this right now."

"Jake, I've told you about every guy I can think of. We talked once about a yeast infection. Your parents. We talk about everything."

"I didn't know you had broken up with Veejay for over a month."

Thuy was silent for a second. "Yeah, I didn't know I was hiding it, but I guess I was."

"Umm, so," I began. "There's Tracy at work. I think if I wanted a sex fling, she'd be my girl."

"What do you like about her?"

"Not much actually. But she's nice and I get the idea she'd be very willing."

"Tracy puts out."

"I don't know, but she's always doing these blatant things to get my attention. She actually stared at me once sucking her finger."

"Are you sure she exists and isn't some porn fantasy?"

"If she were my fantasy, we'd be doing it."

"Why aren't you?"

I shrugged. "I don't know. I feel like... I'm waiting for someone else."

Thuy nodded. "So one girl agrees with me that you're hot, but you're not interested. Any actual dates?"

"Not too much."

"Not a single one in however many months."

"Alright, Jane, you nosy slut."

Thuy's smile broadened. "Who you calling nosy?"

"Yeah, yeah. So there was this woman in Physics."

"Oooh, a physics babe. All the cutest ones do it quantum-style."

I paused and gave Thuy my look. She quietly formed a little halo over her head with her fingers and waited.

"So, I'd noticed her the first day. Why? Ummm.. just a killer body, essentially, yeah. She's black with these amazing braids--"

"Tell me about the killer body."

"You're in a mood tonight."

Thuy said nothing.

"Fine. She's got a great ummm how do I say..."

"Rack?"

"Yeah, pretty much. And why are you looking at me like that? These long legs and big smile. I started having dreams about her. Yes, those kinds of dreams!"

"I didn't say anything. Don't yell at me."