Chapter 3

It was boneyard quiet until two-thirty, when a red sports car pulled up to the island of gas pumps closest to the mini-mart entrance. The car looked brand new, barely a fingerprint on the finish sparkling under the white neon overhead. The driver was a blonde about Blake's age. She had dancer's legs in tight denim cutoffs, and unwieldy looking breasts in a hopeless, white tank top.

Blake couldn't have wanted a more welcome distraction. He'd had far too much time to think he needed to his head examined after the insanely foolish stunt he pulled that afternoon. Was that guy desperately stroking his cock over his sleeping mother even him?

He watched the driver head straight for the entrance with long, confident strides. She moved like a tribal huntress in exile. She went straight to the rear of the store, scanning brands of bottled water in the cooler until she grabbed one and brought it to the counter.

"Just the water and twenty-five on pump two." She slid a fifty onto the counter without looking up.

Blake rang up the sale and started counting change.

"Blake? Is that you?"

He looked up and studied her face. "Cali? Cali Jones?" he grinned.

"Wow, you remember. I'm impressed." Her smiled looked brighter than the unforgiving neon bathing the room.

"Everyone remembers you, Cali. Head cheerleader, homecoming queen."

There was a brief awkwardness because no one would forget how Cali had also been dubbed the senior class whore, among her other accomplishments. But they weren't eighteen anymore, and while the awkwardness was obvious, most of it passed quickly.

"Yeah, well, you'd be surprised," she said. "You look like you've been working out."

"Uh, yeah, a bit. So are you and The Brick still together? I heard your wedding was really nice."

Cali's smile faded. "Not exactly. Getting arrested for armed robbery tends to put a strain on a relationship."

"Oh. Sorry."

"Yeah, well, he had kind of a hard time adjusting to real life after being a football star in school. So anyway, are you still doing silk screens and all that stuff?"

He was going to explain how he'd expanded into photography and lithographs, but then he just nodded his head.

"I'm working my way up to some corporate sales," he told her.

"You always did have so much talent," she said. "I just know you're going to be a huge success. Everyone always used to say so."

"So what are you up to these days?"

"Well, since my divorce from a convicted felon, I've been – uh – temping as a secretary."

Blake thought she had an awfully deep tan for someone who worked in an office.

"You'll probably meet some high powered executive and then you'll be living on Easy Street," he smiled.

She smiled back a little like a politician and told him it was nice to see him again. Then she palmed her change off the counter and jammed it into her pocket. Blake followed the careless sway of heavy breasts her gesture caused.

"Maybe we'll see ya around," she finally said.

"Sure. Hope everything works out," he told her sincerely.

Blake watched Cali pump her gas. She cocked her hip as she held the hose, and he thought she never looked so good as she did now. He didn't expect to see her again, except by accident, but she got him thinking. Maybe it was high time to get more proactive about meeting someone like her who could distract him from his impossible situation at home.

Cali's legs alone were enough to make a guy like Blake forget his own name. She'd make a fantastic model, he thought, but as he saw the way her scant clothes curled around her body, he started to see his mother's body fill the outfit with curves Cali's couldn't compare to.

A vision flashed through his mind of his mother bending over to gas up her car in those tiny shorts and the patterned pantyhose she'd been wearing that afternoon. He stared out the window and felt his cock prickle with heat. He even indulged a quick dream of his mother at eighteen, dressing and acting like the kind of girl who earns a reputation as the senior class whore.

Cali moved around the car to set the nozzle back on the pump and caught Blake gazing out the window. She smiled sweetly and waved, but then she hesitated getting into her car.

"Jesus, Blake," he muttered to himself. "You really gotta get out more."

Then Cali was heading back for the front door and standing in front of the counter again within seconds.

"Okay, I lied," she confessed suddenly, taking a deep breath. "I'm not a secretary. I flunked typing, as you might remember since we were in the same class. The polite term for my job is exotic dancer. I've been doing it since my ex got busted and I'm still paying off his bum of a lawyer even though we're divorced. I guess it beats fucking the fat bastard on the installment plan, which he actually suggested once."

"Uh, Cali, you really don't have to..."

"It's okay, Blake. I kind of want you to know. I was never that nice to you back in the day, but you were always nice to me anyway. You were nice to everybody. I didn't want to take off on a lie. Thing is, I used to like you. A lot. But we hung out with different crowds, so ... well, that's all such a bunch of garbage, isn't it? Anyway..."

She reached over the counter, bunching her breasts against it as she grabbed a ball point pen. She snatched Blake's wrist with her other hand and wrote a phone number on the back of his hand.

"That's my cell," she told him. "If you ever want to get together or – whatever. You could even come where I work, if you want, but I hope not, 'cuz that just puts a whole different spin on everything. Please don't say anything right now or I'll probably die of stupidity."

Blake was momentarily speechless. Cali had been talking so fast even he felt breathless.

"You're not gonna die of stupidity, Cali. I'm glad you stopped in tonight. Really. I'll call."

"I hope so," she smiled. She ticked long, red nails against the counter top and looked everywhere but at him, like she didn't know quite what to do with herself. She suddenly looked much less like a huntress.

Then she was out the door and speed walked to her car.

Blake shook his head to clear it. The last five minutes of his life had surely been a hallucination.

"If a hot blonde stripper with big tits, long legs and an ex-husband in jail isn't enough to take your mind off being in love with your mother, then nothing probably is," he chuckled to himself.

Right around seven-thirty, Teagan felt his weight press down on the mattress. He was trying to be quiet, but the movement woke her up. She was disoriented until she realized she was still in his bed. Groggy, she rolled over to face her son, who was looking back at her curiously.

"I hope you don't mind," she said. "I just felt kinda lonely in the house."

"Of course I don't mind," he replied immediately. "I'm just sorry I woke you up. I'll go back down and sleep on the couch and you can finish sleeping up here."

"Don't you dare," she protested dreamily. "I refuse to put you out of your own bed. I'll go down. I have to be up in an hour anyway."

"Not necessary, Mom. Just stay. There's plenty of room for us both."

She then noticed how her son was dressed – or not – and suddenly felt wide awake. He was only wearing a tight pair of boxer briefs. The fluid tone of his near naked body brought moisture to her blinking eyes. She felt her nipples heat up and grow thick, so she rolled over and turned her back to her son before she soaked through her pantyhose again.

She was wearing the same hose from the previous day. It wasn't her habit to sleep in pantyhose, but after what happened yesterday afternoon, it made her feel much closer to him while he was away at his job. She'd only taken them off long enough to remove the panties she'd soaked through. Then she'd plundered his dresser for a large T shirt and crawled under his covers to slip easily into a world of succulent dreaming.

She was well past the point of going back to sleep, although Blake was soon breathing deeply. Teagan knew her son was gone to the world. It was so good to feel a man's body that close to her in bed. It had been a shamefully long time, and a man as handsome and fit as Blake made her heart shiver in ways she'd forgotten it could.

She felt happier than she could ever remember. It was a crazy way to think, but there was no man she could think of she'd rather have next to her in bed than her son. She felt perfectly content and almost giggled out loud when she thought of how naughty she'd been after work.

Blake drew in a deep breath and rolled toward her, spooning up to her from behind and unconsciously throwing his arm over her body. Teagan gasped softly, but she didn't dare move. There was only one word for the way it made her feel: wonderful. She felt completely alive in her skin, and after a few minutes, she carefully drew her son's hand over her breast, naked beneath the T.

It's not like he's actually touching me, she rationalized silently. He's just – touching the shirt.

In his sleep, Blake's hand instinctively cuddled his mother's heavy breast. It was a completely unconscious gesture. His hand barely moved, but it sent electrical pulses from her rigid nipple straight to her pussy. It seemed impossible to lie still, but Teagan wanted to languish in her son's arms for as long as she could.

Then she felt the stir of his flesh inside the briefs lightly brushing her nylon cased cheeks. She held her breath as she felt the pliant clump of flesh at his crotch slowly uncoil and transform into a ripe column of hard, unyielding flesh. It was unthinkable, and yet the most natural thing in the world.

She knew young men suffered intolerable erections in their sleep. She knew all about young men's wet dreams, yet she never imagined being there to feel the hot press of her own son's unconscious urge. She never imagined her heart could pound so hard, or that she could this electric sensation of being shot through space on a cloud of luxurious sensation.

The hand clutched harder at her breast. His grip was sure but still somewhat slack. Since his breathing hadn't changed, Teagan was certain he was still fast asleep, simply reaching out to his sensuous mother in the heat of an unspeakable dream. She knew he could never be so audaciously forward if he were awake.

Her nipple felt thick as it throbbed against his palm, and she wondered if the incessant slam of her heart was reverberating through his dream. It felt like all her body heat was gathering in her pussy as her sexlips flushed with simmering nectar.

Doing her best to balance the urgency in her skin with the fear of waking her aroused son, Teagan pressed backward, gently rubbing her lush ass along that rock-solid shaft in his briefs. The movement was tortuously subtle, despite her dripping with hot need and wanting to feel Blake's powerful cock fill her sheath.

He's not really touching me, the voice in her heart reminded. Two layers of thin fabric between us. It's not his beautiful cock touching my ass, it's just his briefs rubbing my pantyhose.