Lauren Adams Ch. 02

"And then, your fortunes were magically turned around by..."

I laughed again. "I switched to left-handed."

"Wow!" She was pouring on the over-dramatics. I couldn't help but just watch her as we giggled together. Her eyes were so bright, her cheeks just a hint of rosy red, as she giggled at our combined silliness.

"Anyway, the last four times I came up lefty, and walked all four times. Still never got bat on ball, though."

She was smiling as wide as ever. Now was the time to tell her what I thought of that.

"You have the most beautiful smile... I have ever seen on a woman."

At this, her cheeks turned even redder, as she made a weak attempt to cover her face with her hand. "Stop it, you." We laughed some more.

After acclimating herself to my sudden compliment, the bold Lauren returned. "So, what's your favorite thing about me?"

I thought for a second. "You mean, besides the things I shouldn't mention in public?"

Her jaw dropped. She reached over with her right hand and smacked me on the shoulder as she began laughing harder, big belly laughs she couldn't contain for the benefit of the other people in the restaurant. We just laughed together. I didn't want to say anything else, for fear of interrupting. For fear of saying something that would ruin our perfect moment. I wanted to stay in the little isolated bubble we'd made, encircling the dinky wooden table at the crappy little Mexican buffet on the wrong side of Midland.

Soon enough, though way, way too soon, our food had gone cold. Unwilling to risk another trip to the buffet, which at this point could have had cobwebs all over it for all the use it was getting, we decided to get back in the car and just cruise the town. She was walking ahead of me, and I stopped when I realized she was heading toward the passenger's side door.

I remarked, "Steering wheel's over here, babe."

She shot back with, "I know." Then she threw something at me. My reflexes were just good enough to knock the flying object down to the floor, where it crashed with a metallic ring. I shot Lauren a puzzled look, then stooped down to collect the item. A Chrysler crest, attached to three or four keys.

"So, where are we going, babe?"

I thought for a second. "Y'know, the girls from baseball were right."

She stared blankly at me. I continued.

"You do have a rocket right arm."

We climbed in, laughing. I just sat there, enjoying the claustrophobic environment inside the Crossfire. I'm one of those people that you could classify as a "reverse claustrophobic." I love enclosed spaces. I turned to Lauren, and she was just sitting there, grinning, waiting. So I leaned over and kissed her. This widened and brightened her already amazing smile.

I turned the key, sparking the engine with a low, guttural growl. I wasn't sure, but I thought I heard her make a soft gasp as the vibrations shook the cabin. I pulled out of the parking lot and onto Big Spring, with the intent of cruising downtown Midland. I drove carefully, much more so than Lauren had yesterday. Reaching the intersection between Big Spring and Front, I could hear soft, barely audible whimpering coming from my right. I stopped at the red light and looked over to see Lauren's eyes closed, her mouth half open, and her right hand moving slowly downward to rest between her thighs. I froze, said nothing, held my breath, not wanting to interrupt. Her hand gradually increased pressure, moving up and down almost imperceptibly between her thighs. She bit her lip, her soft moaning becoming more audible as the engine slowed.

I shook my head and snapped out of my daze. I was going to have some fun with Lauren. I put the transmission in neutral and revved the engine, pushing it past 5,000 rpm. At this, she tightened noticeably and began rocking her hips up and down against her hand. Her eyes were still closed. She was completely tuned out to the outside world, nothing on her mind but the steady vibrations coming through the seat and through her body, wrapped up in her own pleasure, blissfully ignorant. I switched feet on the gas pedal so I could move closer. My foot began slowly rocking the pedal as I grabbed her free arm and pulled her in for a deep, longing kiss. She gasped loudly into my mouth as our tongues met. I could feel the soft buzzing of her moans on our lips as we locked them passionately. I eased up on the throttle, and my lips softened. Just as I felt her relaxing into my kiss, I pushed back down on the gas. She yelped into my lips, pulling me closer with her free hand, as her other hand grinded through the crotch of her tight jeans. I broke our kiss just long enough to say:

"So, is this why you bought a Crossfire?"

She smiled an exceptionally sexy smile. I bent in to kiss her once again, but was interrupted. Honk.

"Light's green, asshole! Move it!"

I shook myself to my senses. Instantly I did my best heel-and-toe downshift, throwing the Crossfire into first, screeching away from the intersection. I looked over and Lauren was laughing, her face glowing red.

"What?" I was a bit embarrassed.

She giggled. "You are too cute, Bryan."

I blushed. At least, I'm sure I did, because never in my life had my cheeks ever felt so hot. I reached for her hand and, finding it, brought it to my lips for a quick kiss.

"So, where are we going, anyway?" I queried.

"That's your decision, sweetheart." She dropped her hand to my lap. "But wherever it is, can we get there soon? I want this."

I needed no extra persuasion. I pulled into the nearest dark parking garage, searching for a spot while Lauren's fingers searched for my cock. As soon as I had found a worthwhile spot, I coasted to a stop and put the transmission back in neutral, as Lauren tore down my zipper. Before I had the car off, her soft lips enveloped me. She was swirling her tongue just beneath the crown of my cock head, her fingers gently stroking up and down my shaft, her passion evident in the shudders of her lips as she took me deeper in her mouth. I leaned back, resting my hand on her head, as she moved slowly up and down my cock, dragging her tongue along the delicate underside, tracing the veins along my skin. She moved up to tease my cock with short, rapid flicks of her tongue, flicking it back and forth just beneath my head, moving to slow, long licks across the slit of my cock head, then gently nursing the tip like a baby's bottle, the roughness of her tongue playing along my most sensitive areas.

"Don't stop... God, yes..." She reached further into my Dockers to run her fingernails lightly across my perineum, over my balls, down and back again, sending sharp shivers and shocks through my shaft as her lips worked every inch in. With every long, slow, drawn out caress from her lips, her tongue, her warm mouth, I shuddered with excitement. I grasped a fistful of her hair as her lips met her fingers at the very base of my cock. She simply held her position, her tongue moving slowly up and down as she sucked down on my entire manhood, her hand gently cupping my balls, feeling them for any indication of my passion's impending release, gently stroking, tracing soft, teasing circles across my skin. My thighs grew stiffer, my lower body tensed, my balls compressed -- I was going to cum in Lauren's mouth, again, and that's exactly what she wanted.

Her tongue rolled slowly over the head of my cock, my hips bucked hard, and then her lips clamped down at the base of my cock as she gently squeezed my balls, sending me past the edge. I was cumming, I was shooting her throat full of my hot cum and she was just sucking down harder, every inch of my cock buried in heat, every inch on fire, my head thrown back as my hips took on a desperate aching, thrashing up and down, thrusting against her lips, and still she kept steady, milking my cock with her tongue, rolling it up and down my cock as I exploded, pulling on my balls and pushing on my perineum, coaxing from my sack all the cum I had to give her, swallowing it hungrily, devouring me as I writhed about on the leather seat. I thrusted hard one last time, gave her one final spurt of my hot seed, then settled back down into the seat, blissfully spent.

Her mouth was still encircling my flesh. I shuddered as she slowly withdrew her lips, dragging them across my over-sensitive skin. She slid over my throbbing cock head, and kept her lips perched neatly on the tip of my head as she looked up at me. My eyes were cloudy, my every muscle weakened by ecstasy. She swallowed my head once more, at which my hips jerked, and then released my cock with a soft popping sound. Her lips traveled slowly up my body, kissing softly, from my thigh up to my cheek, then she moved back to her side of the car. I just sat there, motionless, resting, until she spoke again.

"Turn the engine back on."

I did as she commanded, and set the transmission to neutral. She shifted forward in her seat and closed her eyes as the car began softly buzzing.

Still drowsy, I managed to gather enough wit to remark, "I'm starting to think you like this car more than I do."

She cooed softly. "Maybe. Mmm... faster."

I depressed the pedal, causing the cabin to vibrate more intensely. Lauren was erect in her seat, grinding her hips down on the leather, clumsily trying to undo her jeans button and its accompanying zipper. Switching feet on the pedal, I leaned over to her, whispering, "Let me help."

My lips found her neck, tugging on her soft skin as I moved my fingers down to unclasp her button. Free of restraint, her fingers shot downward and fervently thrashed at her clit. She really does like her car, thought I as my lips caressed her softly. I depressed the pedal harder. Her breaths were short, sexy gasps for air. Her entire body was shuddering, from the vibration of the engine, her hand thrashing about beneath her jeans, and the sensations of ecstasy coursing through her with every swipe of her fingers over her skin. I let go of the gas, letting the engine rest awhile, while I kissed Lauren's sweet lips. I felt her soft moans coming faster, more urgently, louder. Her body was moving violently up and down in her seat. She was fucking herself. Hard. What I wouldn't have given at that very moment for it to have been my cock instead of those fingers. But I held my rapidly re-hardening phallus in check and let Lauren have all the fun.

I kissed my way down her tense form before reaching an erect nipple, which I took between my lips through Lauren's Texas Longhorns tee. At this, I felt her back arch towards me, pleading. She wasn't wearing a bra. I slid my hand under her shirt to show her what I thought of that. I grasped her nipple between my fingers and pinched, squeezed, stroked, as her fingers tore at her pussy.

"God, Bryan, I love that... don't stop baby..."

I kissed her gorgeous lips once more, before returning my own lips to her neck, my tongue tracing delicate circles across her flesh. I clasped down upon a small patch of her skin and sucked hard, biting the flesh entering my mouth, sucking and kissing my way across her throat and up her chin, my fingers gripping her taut nipple. I squeezed it hard before retreating my hand to the bottom of her shirt, which I lifted for better access to her firm form. Her nipple was hard, red and inviting. I gently kissed its tip before taking it between my wet lips, sucking and biting softly. I felt her start to thrust faster, harder, moving further up and down in her seat. I tightened my lips around her nipple and pulled hard, as my fingers did the same to her other. She was gasping, moaning, pleading, her body writhing in her seat, hips sliding back and forth as she fucked herself. It was time for her to cum. I bit down on one nipple and pinched the other hard, as she screamed...

"Bryan! Fuck! I'm cumming!"

My foot instinctively forced the gas pedal down as her fingers tortured her pussy, clawing in and out, rabidly fucking herself harder, faster, my teeth and lips locked to her nipple as I pulled and tugged on it, riding her arching back as she cried out in desperate moans and gasps. Her whole body was shaking viciously as her fingers plunged deeper, her pussy devouring them and clamoring for more. I released my lips and kissed hers passionately, fucking her with my tongue as she fucked her pussy. I felt one final gasp, and her body loosened, as did my foot on the pedal. I held her as she slid her fingers out of her panties, managing to weakly grasp my arm in reciprocation.

I moved my lips to her ear. "Better?"

A soft reply. "Mmhmm."

I kissed her earlobe. "I love watching you cum."

I felt her smile as she grasped me tighter. And then: "I'm hungry."

I laughed softly. "Well no wonder... you didn't eat anything at the buffet."

I pulled back to look into her eyes, soft and shiny with afterglow. She smiled. "Let's go home. My mom can cook us something."

I kissed her lips once more before reaching for the keys. Unconsciously, I turned them, before realizing the car had been on the whole damn time.

"Dork." She laughed. "You're so cute."

Moving the shifter into reverse, I backed out of the dark parking garage and onto Big Spring. We were silent for the drive back to the Villa Chateau. It was already dark outside, and the clouds were threatening rain again. There's something special about living in the Permian Basin, and that something special comes in the form of weather anomalies not experienced by many other regions of the country. Basically, Midland lies in a bowl. This bowl ensures that if a tornado passes near, it will likely either be deflected away, or roll harmlessly above us before losing energy. This bowl also aids in the formation of thunderstorms, I'm sure of it. I don't know how a thunderstorm builds, but I'm certain it builds well in the Permian Basin.

We pulled up to the parking lot, exited, and walked up the door quietly. Suddenly I realized what I was about to do. I was going to meet Lauren's mother. I had never even met Christina's mother. Come to think of it, I hadn't met any of the mothers of the women I've dated. But Lauren was nothing to me. At least to her mother. She was just a friend. I wondered silently if she had told her mother anything about me. Damnit, I should have asked her myself. I was a bundle of jumping, flailing nerves. I felt certain my internal shuddering was noticeable, because it seemed Lauren had picked up on it.

"Don't worry," she remarked, sweetly. "I suppose I should have prepared you, huh? Just be you. I like you, so my mother is sure to like you."

Her words were immeasurably soothing. Still, there was a nagging question. "Have you... mentioned me...?"

She smiled. Then she opened the door.

"Hi baby! Oh, this must be Bryan!" Lauren's mother, a petite woman with hair like her daughter's, walked to the door and grasped my shoulder. "How are you, hun?"

I smiled awkwardly. I was sweating. "I'm okay, Mrs. Adams."

"It's Ms., sweetie. I got rid of the R in my title quite some years ago. Come in, you two, have a seat!"

Great. Two seconds in and I had already made a mistake. We walked through the door just as the first thunder clasp rolled over us, causing a large, black cat to scurry off the sofa and down the hallway. Charlie doesn't like thunder.

"Oh, you guys came home just in time. I hope you two saved room for scones!" Lauren's mom called as she entered the kitchen.

"Sounds wonderful, mom." And then to me, "Mom makes the best scones I've ever had. Have you had a scone before?"

I replied honestly. "No, I haven't."

She giggled. Leaning in, she whispered, "It's just a biscuit. My mom likes to make it sound more interesting than it is."

"I heard that," came the reply from the kitchen. Rain was beginning to trickle down the windows.

"Mom, I'm gonna take a quick shower." A good idea. She smelled like sex. She shot me a wicked grin before disappearing down the hallway. A white Mac laptop sat on a desk in the corner.

"Can I check my mail?" It was a flimsy excuse to use her computer.

"Sure," came the reply from a no doubt already half-undressed Lauren. I sat at the desk and opened up the MacBook.

Her wallpaper was a big, high-res picture of her sitting in the open Crossfire, a pink babydoll tee clinging to her chest, a short white skirt draped around her thighs. It was hot. I opened up her pictures folder and took a copy of the photo, so I could send it to myself through Yahoo! mail. Her iTunes library was also open. I browsed through, noting some stellar acts such as Boys Night Out, OK Go, The Receiving End of Sirens. There was a track still on pause. Come On by Number One Fan. Instantly, and without thinking, I started singing it softly: "Come on, come on, come on... Don't be afraid of it, falling in love..."

Just then, Ms. Adams was beside me.

"Here you are, Bryan."

I looked up, shocked by her suddenness. It was a small scone on a large plate, drizzled with honey. "Jam?"

I took the plate. "No... no. Thank you." I took a bite. It was a very good biscuit. Err, scone. Then I pulled up my Yahoo! mailbox.

Thirty-three hundred and eighty-nine. A personal record for e-mail classified by Yahoo! as Bulk. My inbox hadn't been checked in a long, long time. I sent myself the picture of Lauren, and then found that I did have some legit e-mails. A few each from Musician's Friend and Music 123, just so I keep them in mind for when I do acquire enough money for a nice drum set. A few dozen from some mailing lists that I don't remember signing up for and that I do remember UN-signing up for. GameSpot, IGN, a message to myself about a neat website I found, like five months ago. At the top, the newly sent picture. And just beneath it, a message with this subject line: Your mother is in the hospital.

I left that one alone, resolving to open it last, all the while hoping that it was a hoax, and that some insipid advertisement lay behind such an ominous header. I then started working my way through the virtual pile. Delete. Delete. Delete. Forward that joke. Delete. Bookmark that website. Delete. Delete. Save that picture. Finally, there was one last e-mail to check. I took a deep breath before double-clicking.

I'm really hoping you get this, Bryan. Your mother is in Lubbock with a broken neck after James threw her against the wall. The hospital is Covenant, her room number is 313. If you can come down and see her, it would make her feel a lot better. She needs to know you're okay. I need to know, too.

Michael

P.S. Don't tell James.

I was frozen. I was in a stupor. I read and reread the message, hoping the words would change. Hoping the letters would split into something completely different, like one of those Magic Eye puzzles. I got dizzy. Michael was my younger brother. Now I really felt like a shithead. Michael didn't abandon his mother like I had. And now she was in a hospital in Lubbock from being slammed against the wall. With a broken neck! If I had been there, I would have been able to do something. I just sat there, staring at the LCD screen, reading and rereading the message, each successive pass beating it into my mind how horrible I had been for leaving home.

James was my step-father, the fucker who pulled a knife on my mother and caused me to leave in the first place. And now this. Even from miles away, he still controlled everything. My entire body shook with a deep hate of this man who had come into my life and taken control and hadn't given a single shit about who he was hurting. All that ever mattered to James was having things his way. His house, his family, his life. No one could question him. I heard footsteps. Quickly I shut the mail window.

Ms. Adams was coming back out of the kitchen. "So, how did you and Lauren meet?"

I took longer than I should have to answer. I was unsure of what to say. I didn't know if Lauren had misrepresented me to make me look good. "At... at the Hollywood Theaters."