You end up having to leave in a hurry

“Mom?” a familiar male voice filters in over Sharon’s speaker phone. It’s weird hearing Jared talk again. After high school you suppose you’d assumed that you’d never hear from or see him again. Now, your childhood friend is calling his mother. Your girlfriend. And she’d only answered him because you’ve allowed it.

Sharon’s still standing near the kitchen table. Her nightgown has parted slightly, revealing the entirety of her large breasts.

On a whim, you scoot your chair left slightly and grab a handful of Sharon’s juicy bubble butt. She lets out a soft moan, pressing her soft butt into your hand even as her sapphire eyes widen in surprise. She doesn’t try to move away or brush your hand off, however.

“Mom, you there?” Jared’s voice comes in over the phone again. It’s sitting screen-up on the kitchen table. You catch a hint of annoyance in Jared’s tone.

“Um, yeah sweetie, I’m here,” she says, composing herself. “So, how are things at school?”

You keep squeezing Sharon’s ass, enjoying the way your fingers sink into her pliant assflesh. The fact that she doesn’t even shoot an admonishing look your way is kind of astounding if you’re being honest.

“Not too bad. I’m back in town, actually.”

You tense in your seat and glance up at Sharon. She shares a meaningful look with you.

“I thought you said you weren’t coming home for Christmas break?” she says, surprise evident on her face. She shifts slightly, and you catch a flicker of irritation in her eyes as she no doubt wonders what she’s going to say if or when Jared shows up at her house.

“Yeah, well plans change,” Jared says. “I actually got back last night.”

Your breath catches in your throat. You and Sharon share an anxious look. If Jared got home last night, why isn’t he here? Sharon mentioned he has a key to the house. He could have just walked up to the front door and let himself in. Then all he’d have to do is walk upstairs and catch you and Sharon in the act. You’ve no illusions as to whether or not you’d win a straight fight against the football player. Jared had always been the taller and stronger of the two of you, though you’d compensated somewhat by being smarter and generally more resilient. Still, if he’d caught you inside his mother last night, he could really have done some damage to you in the right circumstances. Suddenly you feel very aware of your own personal vulnerabilities, and you’re reminded of your desire to find moms in law enforcement or security, get them under your power and just have her follow you around protecting you against any potential threats.

“L-last night?” Sharon stammers. She takes a deep breath, recovering. “But you didn’t come home. Are you at your father’s?”

“Nah, I crashed at Tyler’s? You remember Tyler, right? He was on the football team with me,” Jared replies easily.

You frown. Tyler. Tyler Fernandez? He and Jared were pretty good friends, you think. Whenever Jared was an asshole to you, Tyler had always backed him up. He’d never done anything too drastic himself, probably content to let Jared potentially take the heat for his general assholery (he never did, and you weren’t the type of kid who told on other people; not like your teachers would have believed you anyway) if anyone bothered to notice. But he’d laughed at you a lot and that had been rather annoying. Not that it was such a big deal anyway. Jared had never dared lay a hand on you; his teasing had been verbal most of the time, or he’d mess with your stuff when you weren’t looking. Your family had taught you long ago how to shrug off insults and scorn like water off an umbrella. That didn’t mean it always worked, or that in the hours after you made it up to your room, rapidly cooling remnants of your dinner sitting on your desk, you didn’t secretly wish you’d been born somewhere else. Or that Angela would adopt you. You’d have even settled for just being left alone.

You shake yourself from your thoughts. Dwelling on the past and letting it put you in a bad mood isn’t a healthy mindset. Sharon had told you that.

“Oh right, Tyler! You used to have him over a lot before you left for college,” Sharon says. “How is he? Are his parents around?”

You stop groping Sharon’s ass for a few moments as you try to recall what you know of Tyler Florez’ family. They were pretty wealthy, with a mansion in the ritzy part of town. You’d been to a couple of parties held there and been astounded by the sheer size of their home. You vaguely recall that Tyler’s father was a big shot businessman; the kind who takes home seven figures and isn’t shy about spending it. Tyler’s mother was a trophy wife, and had certainly looked the part. You remember gathering with a bunch of other guys in front of school and just gawking whenever his mother had pulled up in her obnoxiously large SUV and gotten out. She’d always worn revealing blouses or low-neck dresses or tight yoga pants which left little to the imagination. Then Tyler had gotten his driver’s license and a BMW convertible as his first ride, and you’d seen a lot less of her.

“Eh, Tyler’s good. I told you he got a football scholarship just like me. Not like he even needed it, the lucky bastard,” Jared adds. “His uh, parents weren’t around. His dad’s on some kind of trip and brought Tyler’s mom with him so we just hung out and shot the shit, you know?”

“Hm,” Sharon purses her lips. You get up from your chair. Sharon watches you, but doesn’t move from her position leaning over the table as you move behind her. She shivers slightly when you pull her nightgown up, exposing the juicy globes of her ass. You pull her buttcheeks apart and are treated with a view of Sharon’s anus and her moist pussy. Her butthole winks, as if in response to your nearness. You haven’t forgotten the sensation of fucking Sharon’s ass. It had been so unbelievably hot and tight. It didn’t feel better than fucking her pussy or any worse, just different. You can’t wait to experience that again. “Well, I’m glad you two are having a good time.”

“I already left,” Jared replies after a few seconds. You stop groping Sharon’s ass momentarily. She glances back at you, a hint of fear glimmering in her eyes.

Shit.

“Are you on your way here?” Sharon asks, a tinge of worry coloring her voice.

“Um, yeah,” Jared utters after a long moment, sounding uncomfortable for some reason. “Why, are you busy?”

“Um, no. No, of course not! I’m just… surprised, that’s all. It’s been months since I’ve seen you and you’re not giving me much time to get the house ready,” Sharon recovers. “How far away are you?”

“I don’t know. Like five minutes,” Jared says.

Sharon balls her fists, turning her knuckles pale white.

“Ah, okay. Actually, hold on one second. I’m getting a call on the landline. I think it’s one of my patients. Let me call you right back.”

“Oh, sure thing, Mom, I’ll-”

You raise your hand. Sharon’s eyes widen, but she grabs her phone immediately and presses the red hang-up button, ending the call. You don’t have any time to waste letting Jared say goodbye to Sharon.

“Fuck,” you mutter.

Sharon turns to face you, and you immediately feel annoyed at not being able to grope her ass anymore. Why did Jared have this singular talent to ruin your good mood?

“Yeah,” Sharon nods. She clasps her hands in front of herself, pushing her huge breasts together. “John, I hate to say this, but you have to go.”

“I know. I know,” you say, knowing that if you invoked her trigger, you could probably get Sharon to call Jared and tell him not to come home. To refuse him entry and have him go back to Tyler’s or to his dad’s house. Honestly, the idea is really tempting, but Sharon had told you yesterday that Jared had a copy of her key. So, short of changing the locks, there was realistically no way to prevent him from coming home. And the idea of having his mother just flat out tell him not to doesn’t sit right with you for some reason. You don’t want to start a huge fight between Sharon and Jared while you still lack complete control over Sharon’s psyche; she’s still largely the same person you think. The only real difference is her attitude towards you and maybe a bit more resentment towards Jared for the way he “bullied” you.

“I’m so sorry,” Sharon swallows. Her hands find yours and squeeze gently. “I just don’t think Jared’s ready to know that you’re my boyfriend. He… he might lash out and try to hurt you, and I don’t want that.”

You snort.

“You think Jared would actually attack me?” you say, feigning disbelief. If there’s one thing you’re sure of about your former friend, it’s that he’s ridiculously possessive of the things he considers his. He wouldn’t even let you borrow his bike for a few days after yours had broken one time, and he barely used it, the fucking psycho.

Sharon’s soft hands squeeze yours again as she looks into your eyes.

“I hope not. I honestly thought I taught him better than to treat you horribly, and he still did, so I don’t know,” she murmurs softly, an anguished frown on her face.

Your heart aches for her, and you instantly lean towards her and capture her lips with yours. She moans softly and surrenders to the kiss, her plush lips moving passionately against yours.

You break the kiss moments later. She gives you a smoldering look, and in that moment, you know with near-certainty that she’ll let you stay, damn the consequences. And that whatever happens, she’ll back you up, no matter how the idea of siding with someone over her own flesh and blood son would break her heart. That ultimately seals your decision to leave.

“It’s not your fault,” you whisper. You brush a lock of brown hair out of her face. “We all make our own choices in life, Sharon, and sooner or later, we have to stop blaming our parents for everything that goes wrong in our lives.”

Sharon’s eyes widen with the same surprise you feel at your own words.

“When did you get so wise?” she asks.

You smirk.

“Probably when I started dating the smartest, most beautiful woman this side of the Mississippi. You must have rubbed off on me.”

Sharon rolls her eyes, but you don’t miss the pleased sparkle within them. Her lips twitch upwards.

It’s then that you hear the telltale sound of a grumbling motor outside the house.

“He’s in the driveway,” Sharon says, her face pale. “Hurry, go out the back door. I’ll call you later.”

She starts frantically gathering her discarded clothes from last night, and you’re momentarily enraptured by the way her voluptuous body jiggles in all the right ways as she moves.

She looks up at you, sensing your staring.

“John…” she mutters exasperatedly.

“Sorry.” You’re not, and the way she rolls her eyes at you tells you she knows. She finishes gathering her clothes and gives you one parting look before she rushes down the entrance hallway and then upstairs, her feet thumping against wood. Not a moment later, you see a shadow in the translucent windows that adorn the top of the front door. Time to leave.

You run to the other end of the kitchen towards a glass sliding door that opens to a wooden deck beyond. You open it and hurry outside, closing the door behind you. The air is chilly despite the radiant sunlight. Fat gray clouds in the distance above the tree line warn of impending precipitation. You hurry towards the end of the deck and moments later you’re in the yard, your shoes squishing against moist grass.

You consider going out through the wooden gate along the fence that leads to the front yard, but you don’t want to risk Jared looking out the window and seeing you, so you clamber up the fence and into the neighbor’s yard instead.

Your shoes thump against the grass on the other side, and you stand there for a moment, taking in the yard. It’s large, just like Sharons, but while Sharon has mostly left hers to grass and trees, this one is dominated by a large pool and surrounding concrete. The pool itself is concealed by a thick green cover. An elevated hot tub sits at the other end of the pool. The house itself is large, like Sharon’s. A long wooden deck hugs the majority of the back of the house.

Cognizant of the fact that you’re in someone else’s yard uninvited, you quickly hurry towards the nearby gate that leads into the front yard. You open it and head into the front yard. A line of trees, shrubbery, and a fence divides the property from Sharon's, largely obscuring it from her house, so you should be able to get onto the street unseen and then call Mom to have Tiffany come pick you up.

Just when you’re about halfway down the front yard, a woman’s voice cuts into you, stopping you in your tracks.

“What are you doing on my property?”

Your blood freezes. You slowly turn around and see an olive-skinned woman with black hair and cold, piercing brown eyes standing in her driveway next to an idling silver Mercedes-Benz sedan. She’s wearing a two-piece black pantsuit that complements her severe, possibly Mediterranean features, and hints at her large breasts and wide, child-bearing hips. She is breathtakingly beautiful, with full red lips that you can’t help but want to kiss. For a few moments you struggle to even form a coherent thought.

Her right hand clutches a covered green-gray thermos, her knuckles slate white.

Her eyes are staring daggers at you, and you know you’ve worn her patience thin.

How the fuck are you going to get out of this? Do you run? Try to apologize and explain yourself in a way that hopefully makes sense? The last thing you need right now is someone calling the cops on you. Why did you have to risk going through someone else’s yard? You feel so stupid.

“You’d better start explaining yourself now. Or do I have to call the police?” She reaches into her pocketbook, which is slung over her shoulder.

You sigh mentally. Today just keeps getting better and better, doesn’t it?

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