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Message-ID: <37592asstr$1028027402@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: Rufus Thomas <cinque_manson@yahoo.com>
MIME-Version: 1.0
Subject: {ASSM} "My Best Friend's Mom Part 1" (mfFM voy)
Date: Tue, 30 Jul 2002 07:10:02 -0400
Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail
Approved: <assm@asstr-mirror.org>
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d

WARNING!

This story contains sex between underage teens and
adults! It is a work of fiction, a product of my
imagination, and if such thoughts bother you, read no
further. If you are under the age of 18, or it is
illegal for you to read this type of material, read no
further. 

My Best Friend's Mother
By Cinque Manson

I.
We were sort of outcasts; my girlfriend Donna, Scott,
and his girlfriend Linda, and I. We had all been
tagged as "gifted" in school, which was much more a
curse than  a blessing. At the confusing age of 14,
who wants to be categorized as different from their
peers? Rather than feeling special or advantaged, we
felt freakish. As if the gods were determined to
punish us further still, with the exception of Scotty,
we were among the poorest kids in our middle school,
certainly the poorest in our gifted classes. We had
other friends, but how do you invite the son of a
successful corporate attorney, who lives in a
twenty-room mansion, to your three room bungalow, with
the freeway whizzing noisily and ceaselessly outside
your bedroom window.
 
Scotty wasn't poor, but he lived under some other
cloud. He was perpetually laconic, like an old man
trapped in the distorted funhouse of a teenager's
body. I accepted his quite and inexplicable sadness,
he accepted my abashed poverty. We were friends. 
We had found one another almost unconsciously, since
to acknowledge our awkwardness and pain was beyond us
at that tender age. We just wanted to be normal, and
so we pretended among ourselves that we were. I had
paired with Donna, the daughter of a couple of recent
immigrants from Hungary who barely spoke English. They
 draped themselves in ostentatious gold chains and
Gucci sunglasses, all the while living in an illegal
rental unit stuck behind their immigration sponsor's
modest house. Donna's house was close by the barren
corridor of land empty but for weeds and the tall five
story towers that held high tension electrical cables
that hummed vigorously twenty four hours a day.  

Scott began dating Linda. We double dated a lot, we
were too young to do much but go to movies or grab
some burgers. Donna was nice, and let me kiss her and
cop short feels of her barely formed breasts through
her blouse, but I actually felt much closer to Linda.
I sometimes envied Scott, as he held Linda's hand at
the movies, and wished Linda was my girl.

I'd never met anyone like Linda. She had a fabulous
sense of humor, was as bright as me (and at that time
and place I thought no one was as bright as me), and
had the talent of putting me at ease. This was a
talent I did not possess myself, being as nervous and
as highly strung as a cat. She was tall and lithe,
with straight blond hair parted down the center and
almost overlarge expressive eyes that were a light
shade of violet. As was the style then, her standard
uniform was hip hugger jeans and white cotton peasant
blouses. She lived near the city limits, on the main
street, at the Ace Motel, which her parents owned and
operated.

I found myself drawn to the Ace Motel, dropping in
unannounced from time to time to visit with Linda. She
didn't seem to mind, and I didn't try to alter our
relationship. Her parents didn't seem to mind my
visits either, as long as we left the doors to the
rooms we were in wide open. She had many chores to do,
so I would follow her from room to room as she cleaned
up or did the voluminous laundry. We'd drink soda pops
and talk. She made a great confidante. 

School ended for the year, and as the temperature rose
so did my hormone levels. I tried to corner Donna
alone whenever I could, but she was not at same stage
of sexual development and found my new ardor alarming.
"Stop it! Get your hand out of there!" she cried as I
attempted to insinuate my hand down the front of her
jeans.

"Don't you like it?" I asked. 

She pouted, I disengaged. It went like this for a
month, me trying to make some sort of headway, she
holding me off. Compounding this was my inexperience.
I was almost fifteen, but I was a virgin. I knew
little about making love beyond what my penis, which
was now more or less in a state of perpetual hardness,
drove me to do.

I had no one to tell of this predicament. I was too
ashamed to talk about it with Scott, our banter about
sexual matters was all hollow Playboy bravado. I
sensed his unease at speaking about his own feelings
about sex, and allowed things to remain shallow.

Then one afternoon as the temperature crept toward 100
degrees, I left my house with an empty head and a
half-stiff penis. My feet took over and before I knew
it I had walked the mile and half to the Ace Motel. I
went to the office to ask if Linda were in. There was
no one there. The door was locked, with a sign reading
"Back in an hour, please drop key in mailslot at
checkout." I walked through the carport, and headed
back through the parking lot to the laundry room.
Linda was inside, folding sheets.

"Oh, hi Bobby."

"Hey. Where is everybody?" I told her the office was
empty.

"Mom and dad had to drive into the City. Some lawyer
business. They won't be back until tonight."

I began to help her fold sheets. It was stifling hot
in the small close room, with the humid exhaust of the
dryers augmenting the heat of the still summer air. 
"Wow, they left you in charge?"

"Sure, they do it all the time. C'mon, let's take
these to the rooms."

As we walked back toward the office I noticed that
many of the rooms seemed to be occupied, with drawn
shades and closed doors. The Ace Motel was two one
story buildings, separated by the parking lot, with
half a dozen rooms in each wing. Out of the dozen
rooms, perhaps eight or nine of them were occupied. 
We started at the front, entering the first open door
closest to the streets. I helped Linda spread the
clean bottom sheet. As she leaned to smooth it I
stared at her chest. The heat had made her sweat, and
the sheer cotton of her blouse was nearly transparent
where it made contact with her body. She was not
wearing a bra. I could clearly see her nipples. She
looked up at me and caught me staring, smiled, and
went back to her job. 

We did three rooms, and then retired to the office.
She let me come behind the desk, to her parents living
quarters. I sat on their sofa, she sat across from me
in her dad's Barclounger,  and we drank ice tea. I
continued to stare at her tits. They seemed much
bigger than I'd remembered them. I was getting another
stiffy, but I didn't see how I could approach my
friend Scott's girlfriend. It seemed a rather
pointless erection, one I had a hard time concealing
in my short summer cutoff jeans.

Linda told me she was glad I'd come over, because
Donna had asked her to talk to me. This made me
uneasy, and I naturally jumped to the conclusion that
Donna asked Linda to tell her that she wanted to break
up with me. This was how these things were done. I
shifted in my chair uneasily, both from anxiety and to
shift my erection, which was caught in the folds of my
underwear. 

"Bobby, Donna is really upset. She thinks you're only
interested in fooling around, and she doesn't want to
go as far as you do. She's afraid you'll break up with
her."

I mumbled something about loving her.

Linda continued,
"Listen, I've been having the same problem with
Scott."

"Well, boys are more aggressive than girls. We're
supposed to want to do it more."

"No, Bobby, it's not like that. I want to do stuff,
Scott doesn't want to. He says he's saving himself"
"Saving himself?" This was the stupidest thing I had
ever heard. "For what?" 

"I don't know. It drives me crazy." She left her chair
and joined me on the couch.

She had a funny look in her eyes, as if some kind of
veil had fallen over them, as if she were in some sort
of trance. She said in a whisper,

"I want to do all kinds of things. I tried with Scott,
but he's too scared. Bobby, do you want to do things?"

Did I ever.

"What kind of things?" I wanted to hear her say them
as much as I wanted to do them. Watching her obvious
arousal was the sexiest thing I had ever seen.

She leaned into me and we kissed. It was electric, and
I groaned. Her petite pointy tongue darted into my
mouth, and we put our hands behind each other's heads
to hold them together as we let our tongues dance. She
broke it off and backed away, our eyes locked. She
said,
"Come with me, I want to show you something."

She jumped up, and I followed. We went out of the
office, back towards the laundry room. I was confused,
but game. Linda dug into the pocket of her hiphuggers,
found what she wanted, and entered the humid room
filled with the roar of the dryers. Linda let the
heavy door of the laundryroom click shut behind us.
She put a key into the lock of what I had always
assumed to be a closet door, and flipped a switch. A
dim light played through the opening.

She looked over her shoulder, flipping her long blond
hair toward me. 

"C'mon", she whispered.

I walked through the door and she closed it behind me.
We weren't in a closet, but a long narrow hallway. I
peered through the gloom, and saw half a dozen
rectangles of light reflecting on the back wall. Linda
took my hand, brought her other to her mouth and
motioned for me to be quiet with a finger to her lips.
We walked to the first rectangle of light. It was a
window, or more accurately a one-way mirror, looking
into one of the rooms. We were overlooking the head of
a bed, on which some old bald guy lay snoring in his
underwear. An open bottle of vodka sat on the
nightstand to his right. A suitcase was open on the
floor, its contents haphazardly splayed as if his
clothing had exploded. Linda pulled me further down
the corridor.

The next room was empty, we'd made the bed and emptied
the ashtrays not half an hour before. We walked
stealthily up to the next window. We stopped dead in
our tracks.

Another man lay on the bed, but he wasn't asleep. He
was nude. I wasn't a very good judge of age at that
point, but I could tell he wasn't as old as my father.
He was smoking a cigarette, and idly playing with his
penis, which was thick although semi-hard. I looked at
Linda. She was staring openly at the man's cock. Just
then, the bathroom door opened and a woman stepped
out. She seemed quite a bit younger than the man, and
she won my undivided attention. She wasn't naked, but
she wore some sort of underwear contraptions I had
never seen outside of Penthouse magazines. She had on
a corset, stockings, and garters. Her tits pointed
proud and uncovered over the corset top, and she wore
no panties. She stood at the foot of the bed and ran
her hands up her sides, showing off for the man, until
she held her arms straight above her head. This had a
dual effect, it brought the man on the bed's penis to
full length and mine as well. I gulped, and Linda put
her finger over my lips this time as a reminder to
make no sound. 

The women in the room lowered herself to the bed, and
walked up between the man's spread legs on her knees.
She took hold of his penis, and stroked it lightly,
holding it to one side to admire it. I looked at
Linda. She admired it too, licking her lips. The woman
stroked it, holding it upright, and then squeezed it
so that the huge purple head became shiny and taut.
Then she leaned forward and put it in her mouth. 
My left hand, the one farthest from Linda, wandered to
my crotch, and I unconsciously rubbed my dick through
my cuttoffs. It was stifling hot in the narrow
hallway, and sweat poured down my face. I stole a
glance at Linda, and she was dripping. Her sheer
blouse was sopping now, and her nipples showed through
as if they were peering through holes cut for that
purpose. Again our eyes met, and then Linda looked
down and saw my left hand gripping my hardon. Linda
took hold of the hem of her blouse and pulled it off.
I did the same with my t-shirt. Wordlessly we
unbuttoned our pants, hooked our underwear with our
thumbs, and stepped out of them. We were naked now,
our clothes in a pile at our feet. Linda stepped up to
me and put her arm around my waist, and pulled me
gently back to the window. Linda wanted to watch, and
as much as I was drawn to touch her nubile body, I
wanted to see what was happening in the room too.
The woman was moving her head up and down over the
man's cock. He had his hands on her head, her fingers
entwined in her hair. I'd of course never seen a man's
erect penis before, and it seemed huge beyond belief.
I looked down at my own dick, which was standing
straight up against my belly. It didn't seem as long,
but it was thick. Linda knelt down, and put her long
narrow fingers around it. I grew dizzy. She pulled on
me until my cockhead was as taut and engorged as the
man in the room. I felt Linda's hot breath on my
boydick as she slowly pumped. Then she let go, stood
up, and took my hand. She pulled me reluctantly away
from the window, farther up the hallway.

We were at the next window. It was dark in the room,
the lights were off, but in a moment my eyes adjusted.
The bed was empty, but I saw a shape in the straight
back chair against the wall, and another standing next
to it. The shape in the chair took on definition as my
eyes became accustomed to the gloom; it was another
man. He sat immobile while the shape standing next to
him leaned over him. The shape was a woman, and she
was handling the man in a manner than made his head
jerk back. The darkness became more and more yielding
to my eyes, until I could see nearly everything in
fuzzy detail. The woman was pinching the man's
nipples. His wrists were tied to the wooden arms of
the chair. I looked at Linda, puzzled. This made
little sense to me. Why would anyone want to do this? 
The woman stepped around to face the man. She opened
his knees with one her own. She, like he, was
completely nude. She was small, much smaller than the
man, with a brown pixie haircut and small tits with
obscenely large aureoles.  She wore a small black
mask, like the Lone Ranger, over her eyes. She reached
on the floor and picked something up. It was some kind
of switch. She flicked it on the man's thigh, which
made him jump. I gasped as she flicked the man's penis
with the thin crop. Linda quickly turned to me and put
her hand full across my mouth. She took my dick in her
other hand and squeezed hard. I calmed down. We
embraced once more, and I shifted so I was standing
behind her as we continued our voyuerism. 

The woman was rhythmically whipping the man's cock. It
throbbed and bounced. Occasionally she would stop with
the whip and lightly run a finger over the ridge of
his urethra. When the woman was satisfied with her
work, she dropped the thin whip on the floor, and
spreading her legs over the arms of the chair she
pulled herself over the tormented organ she'd just
flaggelated to complete tumescence. It swayed and
bobbed as if it were searching hungrily for the
woman's sex, which hovered no more than an inch above
it.

I ran my hand up Linda's torso, finally cupping her
full heavy breasts in my palms. Her skin was so
smooth, her tits so firm. Linda leaned her head back
so we could tongue one another. Her pert round ass
ground against my teenage hardness. My cock lodged
between her asscheeks, and she arched her back,
pushing her cheeks around me. I rocked my hips,
fucking her asscheeks. I was close to cumming, covered
head to toe in sweat, in a fever caused both by
Linda's hot body and the tableaus we were witnessing. 
 

The woman continued her journey up the arms of the
chair. She leaned back and put a heel on the chair
arm, raising her body until her crotch was in the
man's face. She was agile, like a monkey, bent and
raised and grasping, clutching the man's head and
forcing it between her thighs. The monkey woman ground
her sex into the man's face, fucking it. She was in
charge, she set the pace, rubbing her pussy up and
down the man's mouth, from his chin to his forehead.
She rose slightly and humped against his nose in short
spasms. Now it was Linda's turn to gasp. She turned to
face me, placed her hands on my shoulders and pushed
me to my knees. Her hands drifted up to my ears, and
then she pulled me into her. My nose rubbed against
the soft golden tufts of her pubic hair, my head
gently turning back and forth. Linda parted her legs
and pulled me in. I kissed her mound as if it were her
mouth. She lifted her left leg and draped it over my
shoulder. 

Her smell intoxicated me. I pulled back just far
enough so that I might look at her, my first look at
womanhood. She had the demure cleft of a ripe peach. I
took my tongue and parted her split. She pulled my
hair, and I buried myself in her. She fucked against
me with the same fervor the woman in the room had
displayed moments before. Her sex opened for my mouth,
the tender lips slippery with the nectar of her
excitement. I licked her with broad wipes, then,
pointing my tongue, I pierced her, losing myself in
the act of tongue-fucking my best friend's girlfriend.
I wiggled my tongue deep in her pussy tunnel, reveling
in her taste and smell. Her breath was coming faster,
in sharp pants. I moaned in sympathy. Neither one of
us was in control, dangerous in our position as
peeping toms watching adults go about their most
private acts through the thin membrane of a one-way
mirror. 

I fucked Linda's tender teen sex with long
tongue-probes of her honeyed hole, pulling out and
lapping all the way up to the strawberry blond pubic
puff crowning the center of my universe. I noticed
when I swiped a certain spot it made Linda spasm, so I
concentrated my efforts there. It was near the top of
her slit, at the nexus of the folds of her pussy lips,
a little crease that grew like a tiny erection. I
didn't know this was her clitoris, I just knew that I
was driving her crazy, which made my own sex drip
clear fluid in a steady slow drip to the floor of the
corridor. 

Linda grabbed me so hard my nose smashed into her
pubic bone, making me see stars. She put a finger in
her mouth and bit down to stifle her cries, with only
partial success, as she whimpered quietly like a
motherless puppy.  She rubbed her unbelievably wet
pussy back and forth over my face in slower and slower
motions. At last she pushed me away, gently but
firmly, as if she could stand my ministrations on her
most sensitive spot no longer. I glanced to the left,
through the window into the dim light of the motel
room. 

The woman was no longer forcing the man to eat her.
She squatted over his lap, bouncing stridently on the
man's incredibly long cock. Her hands were locked
behind his neck and she used her arms to leverage
herself up and down. Linda kneeled down next to me,
resting her hand on my thigh. As we watched the adults
lewdly fucking, the man tied down but raising his ass
high off the chair to meet the monkey woman in
mid-stroke, I placed my hand over Linda's and moved it
over to my dick, which twitched in sympathetic rhythm
to the couple rutting in the motel room. She pulled
away, to my disappointment, bringing her hand to her
mouth, and then she spat in it. Then she put her hand
back on me, slippery with her saliva. She jerked me
hard and purposefully. I moved my hips in concert with
the man and woman on the chair. My poor fourteen year
old boydick, red and raw and hard as a steel bar,
twitched and jerked under the rough treatment of
Linda's grip. I grunted, I couldn't help it. The
couple were fucking faster now, and I kept up their
pace as I threaded my penis through the fuck pocket of
Linda's fist. I was breathing like a locomotive. The
woman inside the room shortened her strokes, and their
sounds obliterated my hushed noises. Suddenly the
monkey woman sprang off the man, leaving his cock
bobbing long and stiff in the air. It waved obscenely,
like a cobra ready to strike, as the woman dropped to
her knees in front of it. Linda pushed me back a bit
so she could lie down on the floor before my own
throbbing snake. The mans cock lurched untouched
towards his belly, and then he came, in a long white
rope that arched and whipped, landing across the
monkey woman's masked face. She kneeled with her hands
on her knees, not touching the man, a wide smile on
her face, as the man gushed three more strings of cum
across the short space between them. The cum streams
laced her face, like the frosting on a hot cross bun.
She stuck her tongue out and lapped at the thick white
syrup. My own dick shuddered like an truck engine
misfiring, and then Linda's fine thin hand pulled the
boycum out of me in a white hot eruption. I looked
down as my penis spurted again and again, my jizz
thinner than the man in the room but just as copious.
Linda lay in front of me, her eyes closed, her lips
parted as I sprayed her. She let loose of my dick, and
the change in pressure caused my ass to clinch. A wave
of orgasmic frenzy that felt pulled all the way from
somewhere deep in my ass shot through my nutsack, up
my seminal vesicles, and out through my urethra. My
one last splooge shot out, thick and strong like
mancum, landing on Linda's outstretched tongue.
Linda smeared the mess on her face with her hands, as
if she were washing in it. She took her hands, slick
with my slime and rubbed them over my cock and balls.
I sucked in my breath, now understanding why Linda had
pushed me away after her own climax. It was almost too
much, the sensations now verging on pain. I was still
dripping cum in dollops over her nimble fingers onto
the floor. We stank in the hot narrow hallway, our
fevered teenage sex sweat and various excretions
mingling in a miasmic funk. 

Almost as an afterthought, we turned to the room. The
couple, who had been lost in their own erotic frenzy
the last we'd noticed them, sat attentive like dogs
listening for their masters to return from a day's
work. The woman rested her hands on the man's knees.
The man leaned back, ear cocked. The woman spoke, in a
hushed contralto,

"I swear I heard something."

"Me too, hon." The man relaxed. "Probably some of our
neighbors enjoying themselves. You know this place,
home of the afternoon delight"

"Hmm. You're probably right, but I could swear it was
coming from over there." At that she pointed directly
at Linda and I. I ducked involuntarily, as did Linda.
It didn't matter that we were peering through the
hidden side of a one way mirror, we felt exposed as if
we were in the room with them.
 
The man told the woman not to be so paranoid. And to
untie him. He said he have to go home and get cleaned
up for dinner. Linda and I crept low, below the
mirror-window, to the pile of our clothes. Linda
squeezed my hand, and I pulled her to me. We kissed,
my face encrusted with her girlcum and her face
splattered with my fresh boycum. I realized I loved
Linda, beyond the faithless pull of my teenaged groin
toward anything in a skirt. She was depraved, and I
knew at that moment I was too. We were too
all-American teens crouching naked and spent in a
hallway of one-way mirrors in a pay by the hour fuck
motel, slathered in our own sex juices. We clothed
ourselves in silence. I glanced through the window
where we'd first watched the woman in the merry widow
suck cock, but they had gone, leaving the door open to
show they were finished with the room. The sheets lay
crumpled and damp.
We left the corridor, and were back in the laundry
room. Linda stepped to the utility sink, turned the
water on and washed her face. I followed her lead,
although I would have gladly worn her cumjuice
forever, every intake of my breath bringing me her
scent, pungent, almost spicey. But I couldn't very
well go home reeking like ten miles of pussy, so I
scrubbed myself with a rough towel soaked in soapy
water.

When I was done, Linda took my hand and opened the
door to the laundyroom. We walked up parking lot to
the office. It was getting close to dinner time, and I
had to leave. As Linda reached out to unlock the
office door, I took her wrist in my hand and pulled
her to me. We kissed with incredible passion, no
longer simply horny teens, but connected more deeply,
implicated together in a secret pact. We didn't speak,
neither of us had to remonstrate the other, this was
our secret. I knew I'd be back, and as I looked into
Linda's violet eyes I knew she wanted me to come back.
Our bodies drifted apart and then a car door slammed.
I looked over and watched the man who had been tied to
the chair put his Buick in gear and back out of the
parking place without so much as a glance in our
direction. Linda giggled, and I smiled. We pulled our
crotches together and rubbed back in forth, in memory
and joy. My dick was hard again, a tube of raw nerves
after the workout Linda had given it in the darkened
hallway. I kissed her some more, I wanted to go on
kissing her forever. 

A door closed and then footsteps. I looked over
Linda's shoulder and saw the monkey woman approaching,
no doubt to drop the room key off at the office. I
looked incredulously at the small trim woman,
unmasked, who was dressed in a short white tennis
dress, complete with little white sneakers. I knew
this woman! 

It was Scott's mother, Alice. She had been the agile
woman climbing all over the man tied to the chair, a
man I knew was not Scott's dad. 

Alice smiled as she approached. 
"Hi Bobby, fancy meeting you here."

Linda and I separated, leaning away from each other.
Caught, her son's best friend and her son's
girlfriend, making out in broad daylight.  My cutoffs
left little to the imagination. My dick was outlined
in sharp relief, poking toward my waistband as if it
were suffocating and needed to break free into the
fresh air. 

Alice walked right between us and let the motel room
key, with its oversized plastic tag, drop through the
mail slot of the office door. She turned and appraised
the two of us, first Linda, then me. She cocked her
hip, and placed a nut-brown hand on it. She walked up
to me, very close, and I was frozen as if held in a
force field. 

"Fancy meeting you here with your tongue down my
Scotty's girl's throat."

She shot a dark look at Linda, but leaned close to me.

"I don't blame you two, you're beautiful together. But
really, if you're going to screw around, do it in
private." She poked me angrily in the chest with a
tanned brown finger manicured with hotpink nail
polish. She let her hand splay against my chest,
dragged it down to over my belly, then over the banana
lump of my boydick. 

"I heard some noises in my room just now. You two know
anything about that?"

Linda said no, she didn't, in a high voice. 

"Really?" asked Alice in an overdone ironic singsong.
She moved her hand from my painfully erect bulge.
"Maybe I should ask your mother, Linda. This place has
got a bad enough reputation, hate to see it rub off on
you."


Linda gulped, at a loss at what to say.
Alice backed away from me, toward the parking lot. 
"Why don't we get together and talk about it?"

"Ok", I rasped. I was confused, aroused, frightened,
and desperate for a way out of this extremely
uncomfortable interaction. 

"Tell you what, why don't you two drop by my house
tomorrow around lunch. Scott is leaving for camp
tomorrow in the morning, this is between you two and
me. We'll have a little private chat, just the three
of us."

I nodded. Linda nodded. Alice said,
"Good. Just be there, ok, or I'll bring a shitstorm on
top of both of you oversexed teenaged lovebirds."

With that she turned and sauntered to her car, a
little Sunbeam Sprite. She cranked it over and burned
a little rubber on her way out of the parking lot onto
Main Street.

"Uh, I gotta go now."

Linda just said sure. Then she looked at me wide-eyed
and said,
"Are you going to her house tomorrow?"

"What choice do we have?"

Linda agreed. I longed to kiss her goodbye a last
time, I loved her more now than ever, but I also felt
completely and utterly exposed. I lurched to the
street and lumbered home. 

As I entered my house I smelled dinner, meatloaf from
the reek of it. I let the screen door slam behind me.
My mother poked her head out of the kitchen.

"Hello Bobby, what's my golden boy been up to all
day."
"Nothing, mom," I replied sullenly as I headed for my
room. The typical teen, home from a typical teen day,
answering the typical question from his mother with
the typical teen reply. I slammed my bedroom door
behind me and jumped belly first on my bed, my brain
awash in sordid shame and randy memories of a darkened
corridor with rectangle of light reflected on the
wall. 

End of "My Best Friend's Mom Part 1"

__________________________________________________
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