FoA Chapter 18

Outside the clubhouse, you perch on your bike and listen to the noise from inside. You aren’t sure what’s wrong with you. Normally you would enjoy the kind of dumb shit that’s been going on tonight. And you did enjoy it, but not as much as you should have.

You sit with your thoughts in the warm air for a while, then check the time and rev up your bike. Maybe it’s rude, but you have to do what you have to do.

You ride away from the clubhouse and into the good neighborhood, where Riley lives.

The lights are on in her house. You pull up and dismount, leaving your helmet behind and hurrying up the walk. You probably smell like that party back there, but you don’t care.

You go right up the to the door and ring the bell.

Mary opens up, looking as soft and pretty as ever. And cozy, in her robe. There’s a glass in her hand containing a frozen margarita. Is she partying? And behind her is someone else, but it’s not Riley.

Sudden anxiety hits you. The woman standing behind Mary doesn’t know you, but you know her.

She’s almost as tall as you, but it a bit thinner and wirier. She’s about the same age as Mary, Stef, and Carla. Her very short, blonde hair is cute, but businesslike. Her features are hard, and a bit pinched. She wears a light blouse and blue jeans, and she too holds a drink.

This is Ellen, Gurlberg’s Chief of Police.

You aren’t wearing anything as obvious as a Free Gurls vest, but in your jeans, boots, and grimy t-shirt, you might as well have biker chick written on your forehead. Especially with your beautiful bike right behind you at the sidewalk.

Mary looks shocked, and she freezes for a second.

You realize at once what the problem is. Mary and Ellen are obviously friends, but Mary probably doesn’t advertise her arrangement to get toys through Stef to a cop. Your presence here is awkward.

“Hi,” you say. “Is Riley here?” That should help Mary out: you made it clear that this isn’t about her.

“Um,” she says. “No, actually.”

“Hey, I better take off,” Ellen says pleasantly, setting her drink down and touching Mary’s shoulder. “Besides, if I finish that monster drink I won’t be able to drive. I’ll text you about the wine tasting.”

“Oh. Sounds good,” Mary says, stepping aside. Ellen slips past her.

“Hi,” she says politely as you get out of her way.

“Hi,” you reply, and she strides down to the very nice car that you parked behind.

You and Mary both watch her start the engine and leave.

“Sorry to bother you,” you say to Mary when she’s gone. “I didn’t mean to mess that up.”

“No. You didn’t,” Mary says quickly, smiling at you. “She comes over for a drink all the time. Don’t worry about it.”

“Look, I was going to watch the game with Riley tonight, but I had to cancel on her, and I just felt bad. I wanted to tell her that I was sorry,” you say. It’s the truth. Mostly.

“Oh,” Mary’s expression softens, but she also seems surprised. She looks you up and down, doing the math. She can’t be sure, though. Are you just friends with her daughter? Was that a date? You don’t really know either, honestly.

You certainly aren’t going to tell her about what happened at CCL house. What happens there stays there. Even you know that.

“Well, she has never stayed out all night before. And… she usually isn’t this late,” Mary says, opening the door wider. “So she’ll probably be back soon. Do you want to wait for her?”

“Is it OK?”

“Sure. I mean, there’s half a pitcher left.”

“Thank you.” Normally you wouldn’t impose like this, but it’s really bugging you. You owe Riley and apology, and you have to know if she’s OK. You don’t know how she feels about what happened at CCL house. Did she have fun? Or was that not a good experience for her?

You just need to know. You have to get some reassurance that what you did was right.

You appreciate the ****. It helps with the anxiety you’re feeling. You feel very out of place in Mary’s living room, which is big, clean, and very nice. You’re in an armchair and she’s on the sofa.

“At first I thought that Stef sent you,” Mary says, smiling over her drink.

“What for?”

“Because, you know.” She shrugs. “I know that Stef’s having supply chain issues. I thought maybe she sent you instead.”

“Oh.” You understand. “I’m sorry.”

“No! Don’t be.” Mary laughs. “I should be sorry because my brain took it there.”

“Does Stef know that you hang out with Ellen?” you ask carefully.

“Of course. When we were your age, we were all friends. Me, Stef, Ellen. And Carla,” Mary adds with a shrug. “I was the boring one with a boyfriend, and those three just got into all kinds of trouble. The drama never stopped. I miss it a little sometimes.”

“I think there’s still plenty of drama,” you say, grinning. Stef is the president of Free Gurls, Carla is VP, and Ellen is the Chief of Police. Obviously, things aren’t going smoothly in their relationship.

Mary cringes. “You’re right.”

Time passes, and she refills your drink.

“Should I be worried about Riley?” Mary asks.

“Because of me?”

“What?”

“I mean, I’m… you know,” you say. “I’m with Free Gurls.”

“Oh! No. That’s not what I mean. I mean, the club is helping women out. It’s illegal, but it’s not like you’re selling **** or hurting people. You don’t do robberies and stuff,” Mary says with a laugh.

“Right,” you say uncomfortably, thinking about the plan to break into the police station.

“I mean the girls that Riley is hanging out with these days. You know what I mean? I said that we were wild when we were your age, but even we knew to stay away from CCL,” Mary says.

“You think she’s hanging out with them?” you ask, careful not to give anything away.

“I know she is.” Mary hesitates. “She’s not as popular as her sister. But she wants to be. I think she thinks that CCL can help her with that. And maybe it can,” she adds.

You nod. That kind of fits with what you’ve seen. Riley never seems totally sure of herself.

“I kind of wish she’d just focus on soccer,” Mary admits.

Wait a minute. Wait just a minute. Riley didn’t just go to a CCL party, she was, thanks to you, the winner at that party. She’s not coming home at all tonight. Hell, for all you know, she’s probably getting laid right now. Or at the very least she’s partying. Why did you even think you could find her here? You weren’t thinking clearly at all. She’s not coming back here.

“Um,” you say, taking a drink. “It’s getting pretty late.” It is. You’ve been chatting with Mary for a while now. “I’m not sure she’s coming back tonight.”

“You think so?”

“She might have met someone,” you suggest hesitantly. You can’t confirm for Mary that Riley is with CCL.

Mary gazes at you. “You’re not the someone?”

You smile. “No,” you say. It’s not that you wouldn’t like to be, but you’re not. At least not yet.

“Oh.” That seems to surprise her. You sit quietly for a second. You should go, but you want to finish your drink first. It’s delicious, but if you drink it too fast you’ll get a brain freeze. “I guess Kayla’s not coming home either,” Mary says, looking at the clock. “But that’s normal. I feel like a teenager must feel when her parents are on vacation.”

You laugh.

“Stef’s been a lifesaver,” Mary muses, looking across the coffee table at you. “Since my divorce.”

“The need is growing,” you tell her. “They are passing these conservative laws all over the state.”

“Well, I’m ready. I’ve built up a pretty big collection,” she adds with a smile.

“Nice,” you say.

“You want to see it?”

You almost **** on your drink. You were not picking up on that at all, but you do now. You pull yourself together quick and meet her eyes.

Maybe it’s the ****. Or maybe it’s the angst from this thing with Riley. Either way, you aren’t thinking very clearly.

“It’s upstairs,” Mary says, watching for your reaction.

Yeah, because upstairs is where her bedroom is.

“OK,” you say, and you are both up there in seconds. You have no self-control. She kisses you like a horny fangirl, and you pull that robe off and collapse with her onto her bed in the master bedroom. Her soft lips and the way she fumbles with your jeans drives you absolutely wild. She’s just so… nice. Like Ingrid. Thinking about Ingrid just makes you hotter.

The robe comes off quick, revealing a soft, generous body that’s like a heavenly pillow. She welcomes you on top of her with her hands on your back and in your hair. Usually you have a little more pride and give a little more thought to what you’re doing, showing your partner that you’re in control and making sure that she gets off hard.

But you can’t stop kissing Mary, and you know that you don’t look cool as you awkwardly peel out of your jeans and underwear, then throw your shirt aside. Her hands are all over you, and she has nails. The lights are on. You see every detail as her belly and breasts bounce when you touch between her legs, and you feel every inch of her when you put your full weight on her body. She moans into your mouth as you enter her, gliding effortlessly into her sopping, red-hot pussy. She sucks you in, clutching at you.

It obviously feels good for her, but you have to make it better, upping the tempo until smacking flesh is the soundtrack for the whole room. Mary’s no porn star, but there’s nothing sexier than the pitiful, needy sounds she makes as you shove inside her, hugging her tight. You’re so close, but her orgasm gives you more stimulation than your own thrusting can as her pussy convulses around you. You go in to the hilt, moving your hips around, getting the most out of it until you grunt and your cock tightens up. You groan and let go, feeling nothing but volcanic hotness down there as you let out an absolute geyser. It’s the kind of finish that if you were alone in bed, it would be all over your face and hair.

You pant, your lower half numb as your cock keeps pumping more straight into Mary’s womb as she lies there, body jerking, tears on her face. Her nails dig into your back as her walls squeeze you.

You both hear it at the same time: a creak from the hallway. You jump and roll off as Mary sits up. You twist around in time to see a flash of red hair.

“Oh, shit,” Mary gasps, red-faced.

No explanation is needed. Your body goes on autopilot. Did you just get busted? You think so. Cock still drooling cum, you stagger to the window and open it. Naked, you climb out into the warm, night air and drop down skillfully to the soft grass below. It’s not like you’ve never had to sneak out of a bedroom before.