Hang Tight, Rachel

This chapter originally written by BiBiComte, minor edits by Samus1001

Caleb plopped into his mom's car and started the engine. As he let it warm up a bit, he studied the dial with a scoff.

Would be nice if this came with a manual, to be honest.

But hey. I count my blessings.

He did. Mom taught him that.

That's also why she let him take her car. With the help of this do-diddy. Everything, honestly, had to have been leading to this.

A lash or two fluttered as he rotated and pivoted the watch under the glimmering backlight shining off the garage door, the one outside which he was currently parked, then shook his head and took off.

It was easy enough, convincing Rachel that he'd be perfectly capable of picking her up. After all, he was old enough to drive, for Pete's sake. Officially licensed, baby!

The roads were pretty sparsely filled this time of day, at least in the suburb area. The address she sent him stemmed from the other side of the city, which was a little far; nothing a smooth entry into the highway couldn't rectify. Pros to city-living. The con, of course, was the shitty traffic to come.

So Caleb managed to dance and shimmy his way through the darkening city-scape. He threw on some chill hip-hop beat, plucked open a bottle of water to chug down his throat (something he always was neglecting, as his general physician would take point to remind him), and enjoyed the ride.

Beep. Beep.

Play.

*bum*

*bum*

*dum-dum-dum-dum-dum-dum*

*bum-bop*

...

....

*fwaasshh*

*bum*

*bum*

*dum-dum-dum-dum-dum-dum*

*woo woo wah woo woo wah woo woo*

*woo woo wah woo fshhhh...*

*fwaahhh*

KABOOSH!

*rollback tape*

After nearly banging his head against his steering wheel, Caleb quickly took the time to make some quick mental notes.

One. Stay calm.

Two. You're not hurt, so that's good.

Three. Observe the situation. Feel your way through the cilia. No sudden decisions, unless they were totally something you would do in a right state of mind. Assuming you were in a right state of mind.

Four. Where the hell was I?

Thanks to a still compact window, the scenery came into view after his blurry vision cleared up, and Caleb was able to discern a mostly naked expanse of unused dirt lots at his side, with the main city a couple blocks off on the other, south-ward. Meaning he was currently facing west, his intended route.

Suddenly, a bunny bristled out of a scrubby bush. The two stared for a moment, aimlessly, and then Caleb gestured for it to shoo with his fingers. It squiggled its nose, blinked, yanked its head to the side. Then back its head came, and it squiggled its nose again, offering another staring episode with its new car-bound partner in crime as Caleb's brows fell, and squiggle, went the bunny's nose, because it did a lot of that. That nose-wriggling.

The boy shook himself and peered forward. Straight in front of him sat a car, with a new and verily not improved bumper. A handful of branching cracks spanned the rear windshield, too, stretching all the way from the top left corner to the center folds. After a few more moments of peering, he could also confirm, their license plate was now in Arabic.

"...Shit."

A quick flick of the finger; one blink later, the emergency lights flickered on.

Thud, went the door. Stepping out into the slight, mostly trivial chill, Caleb, in his frumpy jacket and jeans, looked around, his hands buried into his jacket pockets. "Hey, you alright?" As he called out to the grey sedan he totally did not just hit, he promptly circled the perimeter with his eyes. Cars were assembling on the road, but effectively kept to the left lane, and/or went around them. On the other hand, there was not much of a shoulder to relegate to on their part, so they were stuck assuming the entire horizontal space of the right lane portion on which their engines currently, seemingly endlessly, idly rumbled.

"Yeah," finally, a voice, one as smooth and unshaken as Caleb could have hoped. It emerged from the car as the driver door popped open and out stepped another jeans-clad leg. "We're fine!" And a sturdy boot, as the driver revealed themselves to be a slender, pretty-faced Asian with somewhat short, cropped hair. One instinctive downward purview affirmed she had on fitting jeans that subtly implied a set of solid, tight thigh.

Hmmm.

Well then.

Of course that would have been who he hit.

Caleb's eyes automatically gave her another once-over. Head to toe, and back again. Nice tight pants. Swell bolero jacket and green long-sleeved tee with a slight tease of a neckline above a perky, decent looking pair of pears on her for someone her size.

The young man curled a chapping lip corner as he returned his eyes to the back of his head.

"How about you, are you okay?" Cliff-kicking his empty thoughts into the crook, his new Asian subject-of-collision cocked her head, a genuine tone of concern coloring her inquiry The wind began to pick up while she approached the inscrutable, ruminating teenager and eyed his face with a frown. "You... look a little shell-shocked, actually."

Quickly, Caleb shook himself out of it. He even managed a courteous smile. "Nah, I'm good. The question is if anything is wrong with your car or anyone in it. I did hit ya, after all," nevertheless, he churned with a grumble. Who'd like to admit something like that? Maybe he should just go for it; try fighting the uphill battle. Turn the tables. Get the lawyers on them. Yeah. They shouldn't have been stopped so disruptively. That could work. Anything could work. This was America we were talking about!

And as anyone could attest to, that mea--

"Oh," the girl continued her mental parade raining, tossing a hand with a flick of the wrist, "please, what, that little dent?"

"Yeah, that little dent," Caleb folded both arms, shaking off his derailed (and derailing) train of thought, warming his chilly hands against his chest.

She rolled a shoulder. "Yeah, it's pretty bad, especially for a car I just got about two months ago, you know." She rolled her eyes, even elbowing Caleb in the arm. "Which, of course, you just had to hit. But if you want, we could cover it ourselves, and all, it's no biggie."

He stared at her for an interim. Then suddenly, it dawned on Caleb.

Was he an idiot?

Was he a dumbball? A dumbass?

Did his rectum hide his brain and stuff it with pasta from Melbourne and expect him to shit it out one day and find it cradled in his hands, realizing all this time, his cranium was missing a big chunk of thinking-matter in between its walls?

The watch, of course..! He had configured it to make everyone view him as an invaluable friend, who'd forgive him for generally unfathomable acts. And he still had it on him. He was bringing it with him on the way to Rachel. In re-tracing his steps, Caleb began to wonder if he actually did hit his head on that steering wheel.

I guess it was just... An internal monologue began. This is the kind of hard hitting shower of reality you get that disrupts anything fantasy, that my brain automatically threw off any fantastical, irrational notions from my working memory just like that. As if everything before really had been a dream, and I just woke up, purely, exclusively, "Logical Caleb" after the crash.

But no.

This was no irrational, fantastical make-believe.

This was a 24/7 magical trinket that warped reality even when reality was sending meteors onto the roof of your house. Reminders like these hit it home. It hit it hard.

I really could get away with anything I wanted, if I wanted to, mused Caleb. Any time, as long as the watch was with me.

Remember it.

In consistent timing, another voice chimed up to punctuate his thoughts, accompanied by the shutting of a car door. He looked up to see an older Asian woman, in a turtleneck sweater and casual trousers, get out from the car, and he had to do a double take. Not only was he having a deja vu moment, he instantly found himself appreciating the woman's also slender but somewhat thick hips and thighs, similar to her driver, only more womanly, and mature. And, up top, her face was a little more chiseled, sharper, but only in a way that enhanced her shrewd beauty, with hair that was also short-form but a little less sleek, with a hint more of frizz and--

"Excuse me, sir, are you alright? Is everything here alright?"

"Everything's fine, Mom, he's not hurt," the Asian driver responded for Caleb.

"Yeah, no injuries!" The worry-singularity of the day reiterated. "At least as far as I can tell. And my mo--er, my car has seen worse days, so.."

"What a relief." As he'd begun elaborating, the Asian woman actually proceeded to go up to Caleb and place her palm against his back. Which, on its own, wasn't the most wild thing he'd seen that day. But then she started to rub, first with her fingers, then with her knuckle, at first surprising him, only to transition into slight curiosity and then pleasantry as she proceeded up the crook of his spine over to his upper back and his shoulders, squeezing them and then down and back around with an utmost amount of care.

"Uh--er, whatchya doin'?" Caleb wasn't complaining, but he didn't remember reading about this in his DMV manual.

"I very glad that my little Michelle here didn't hurt you at all," the older Asian woman almost cooed, "you are young and till have whole life ahead of you and it would've been terrible to take away some of that time," squeeze, squeeze, chop, "just because of a road accident."

While that didn't answer his question, Caleb was amazed at everyone's complete affinity for him over seemingly everything else. Holy crap was this just absolutely, hilariously ridiculous! Why didn't anyone tell him that crashing into people's cars earned you free massages and adulation? Motivational speaking as he knew it was all a lie!

Snicker snicker.

Caleb looked at Michelle, who, appropriately, (or inappropriately, same difference), appeared somewhat remorseful, before replying to her mother's sentiments. "Totally get that. But..." The two's eyes gave him their undivided attention as he began to question them about their own car again, but he relinquished the thought. "You know what, never mind, I could just get you guys a newer, even better one if I was feeling that bad about it."

"What, a car, you mean?" Michelle gasped, and laughed giddily, yet half-mirthfully. "Oh you, you can't joke like that you know! How about it, Mom, he's willing to give us a new car and you won't lend me a dime to help me with my college loans."

Ooh. Strict, much?

"I knew you were upstanding young man!" laughed Michelle's mom, ignoring her daughter's comments. The lady even went so far as to give her message a quick kiss on the back cheek. Caleb chuckled along and enjoyed the warmth of the mother's lips. A complete stranger, before which he hadn't even known existed, now planting ginger kisses on his cheek while hugging his shoulders with both arms. Boy her big breasts felt nice churning against his back like that.

"Yeah," Caleb cleared his throat, "just give me both your phone numbers and we can figure out the rest at some other point." Caleb pulled up his phone, eyeing his watch wrapped around his wrist. How the glimmering kaleidoscope of lights that gleaned against its surface as the flash of car lights engulfed the city-street sprawl danced. "Also," he said, finally, after a thought, "take off your panties and let me have 'em right here, too. It's okay if I sniff and masturbate onto them in my private time, right?"

"Oh, most definitely! I think it's the least that we can do after this kerfuffle." Michelle began bending over to unbutton and slide off her jeans, while her mother echoed her.

"You are so confident and adventurous!" Laughing as she slipped down her pants, exposing her smooth, thick legs, the slightly thick accented Asian MILF looked to Caleb with matronly affection, "I wish I had son like you, young man, I do! Even if this is sort of embarrassing..." Nevertheless, she said that last part with a wispy smile.

"Oh, Mom," prodded Michelle, handing her black cotton panties over after successfully slinging it over her boot. "You know it's nothing when he's askin' for it. Besides, I just watched you and dad have sex while eating dinner earlier today, so it's not like you have anything to worry about in front of me."

"I know, dear," followed up the mother, her white panties in hand as well, "just my old habits acting up I suppose!"

"Thanks," Caleb expressed his gratitude by smacking and gratuitously rubbing and squeezing their naked, exposed butt cheeks once their panties were in his sufficiently stuffed jacket pocket, a grin prying open his own two cheeks as the two ladies looked up at him with indelibly pretty smiles while his hands felt up and got lost in their wonderful buttocks. "The pleasure is mine."

Meanwhile, in his jeans pocket sat his phone; two new numbers in his contacts list, as well as his latest message plastered on-screen, in response to a waiting Rachel's inquiry of where he was and if the date was still on. 'Hang tight, Rach,' he had typed, only moments after typing their phone numbers into his book, 'just ran into (literally) a hot Asian chick and her smoking hot MILF of a mama! LOL. Cya in a bit.'

"So did you want to exchange information, or..?" The Asian girl looked up to him with innocent curiosity.

"Nah," Caleb swatted the thought away, swatting Michelle's tight ass as he did, "I don't have a license anyway."