Chapter 3: Loading the Drunk Son

The final slow song bled into the last announcements, lights flickering up to signal the end of prom. Ryan was done. Completely blackout. He’d slumped against the bleachers ten minutes ago, eyes rolled back, cup still loosely gripped in one hand. Elena’s stomach twisted with a mix of maternal worry and the lingering heat from everything that had happened on that dance floor. Her black dress felt too tight now, the fabric rubbing against her still-hard nipples with every breath. She could feel the damp spot in her panties cooling against her skin, a constant reminder of Jake’s hand on her ass, the thick ridge of him pressed to her belly, the way their bodies had kept finding each other in the crowd.

Jake crouched beside Ryan, shaking his friend’s shoulder. “Dude, come on. Time to go.” No response. Ryan’s head lolled, a soft snore already rumbling out. Jake glanced up at Elena, their eyes locking again in the brighter gym lights. That same dark hunger was still there, barely banked. Her pulse jumped.

“We’ll have to carry him,” she said, voice steadier than she felt. “My car’s in the far lot. Dark back there tonight—no lights working on that side.”

Jake nodded once, sliding an arm under Ryan’s shoulders. Elena took the other side. Together they hauled him up, his dead weight sagging between them like a sack of bricks. Ryan mumbled something incoherent, feet dragging as they steered him toward the exit doors. The cool night air hit them the second they stepped outside, raising goosebumps along Elena’s bare arms and making her nipples tighten even more against the thin dress.

The parking lot was a sea of shadows. Only a few scattered cars remained, most kids already gone. Elena’s SUV sat alone at the far edge, swallowed by darkness. Their footsteps crunched on gravel. Ryan’s body swayed heavily, forcing them closer together with every step.

Jake felt her first—Elena’s full breast brushing the outside of his arm as they adjusted their grip. Soft, heavy, the side of it molding against his biceps through her dress. Exactly like the grocery bag moment last year, only now there was no pretending it was accidental. The contact lingered because Ryan’s weight kept pulling them in. Jake’s cock, which had never fully softened since the dance, surged back to full hardness in seconds, thick and aching against his tux pants. He shifted his hips, trying to hide it, but the movement only made the head of his dick brush the front of his zipper.