Her Best Friend's Son Ch. 04

It was an hour before Jeremy's train was scheduled to arrive. Angela had already cleaned everything that needed cleaning, and was puttering about, sorting and resorting books, when he called. Her heart pounded, seeing his name on her phone, but it was hard to hear his voice clearly. From the background noise, he must be on the train. Not like him to call like this. Something clenched in Angela. He sounded...different. And then she caught his words.

"Aunt Angie...yeah, yeah, still on time...look, is it okay if my friend Zoey stays too...just the night? One night. Did you hear me ok? No worries if not...oh, hang on, I think there's a tunnel coming up. I can explain it all when we get to yours. Just, would that be ok?"

Angela felt her world imploding so viscerally that she literally put her free arm out to protect herself, as if the walls of her flat were suddenly falling in toward her. She managed to stumble out a polite "Sure" and then they were cut off.

She stood in complete stillness. Then threw the phone across the room onto the couch. She didn't want to talk to him if he could get through again. She felt stupid and desperate. Stupid for not seeing that he would have a girlfriend already, somebody his own age. Desperate for all the preparations she'd been making for days, in her flat, in her hair and outfit, in her mind.

But she could also feel her body's rebellion. Despite the shame that she felt at her own delusion, she could still feel the pulse in her belly. She had fed herself too much fantasy and hope and they couldn't be easily extinguished, even by the mortifying prospect of welcoming Jeremy's girlfriend to stay overnight in her flat.

She walked over to the couch, picked up the phone again, and without texting ahead, called Jewel.

"Hiya, what's up?" came her friend's response.

"Jeremy just called. From the train. He's bringing his girlfriend to stay with him overnight."

"Oh, he has a girlfriend?"

"Yup. Zoey apparently. She probably has orthodontic braces, and, you know, perfect tits."

"He told you this is his girlfriend?"

"No."

"So, how do you..."

"Oh, come on, what else would she be? I mean, this whole thing, I've been fooling myself..."

"I thought you knew all the inside scoop now? Like you have a secret spy channel with his mum or something. Wouldn't she have told you?"

"Maybe he's hidden this Zoey from her."

"Yeah. That's possible. And it's possible you're jumping to conclusions."

"And what if I'm right? What if I answer the door all dressed up for seducing my nephew", Angela made air-quotes with her free hand, taunting herself with the word that wasn't literally true but caught her feelings of taboo, "and in they walk arm-in-arm ready for a night of making out in my spare bedroom!"

"Well, yeah, your right. Safer to just give up now. Crawl back into the woodwork. Maybe start looking online for all those cats your going to rescue from the mission."

"Shut the fuck up!"

"Oh, wow, you are wound up."

"I'm sorry, I just..."

"Sorry? Don't be fucking sorry. Be real. You could be right...but you could be wrong, and about to talk yourself out of the best experience of your life. Which way to you want to play it?"

"I...I don't know," Angela replied sheepishly. "I guess that's why I'm calling you."

"Ah, sweet. Girlfriends. And, so, what does your pussy say?"

"My what?"

"You heard me."

Angela sighed. She paused and closed her eyes and tried to discern the answer. "I'm still here," she said finally.

"I know. No hurry."

"I want him. I want him so bad, that's why it hurts."

"Enough to take a risk?"

"Maybe."

"Do me a favour. Remember that selfie you took of yourself? Before going out dancing?"

"Yeah?"

"Pull it up."

"Why?"

Jewel groaned loudly. "Just do it, alright? No, actually, better. Take another one of yourself right now and send it to me."

Obediently Angela walked over to the kitchen counter where there was more light, clicked on her camera app, and shot a selfie. She sent it and then stared at the image, trying to discern her own expression. She was wearing the pretty skirt they had picked out, just above knee length. Jewel had advised her to wear a bra - without one looked too casual, not classy enough. But she had and taken full advantage of the button down blouse to show some cleavage, not spilling over like Susan's fuller breasts might have done, but still...athletic she hoped. Underneath it all, Angela had, unbeknownst to Jewel, switched from body nylons to an old fashioned garter and silk stockings. With her new haircut, she looked...

"Ok, got it," Jewel announced. "Nice. So...what do you think?"

"Yeah, you made some good choices for sure."

"You look?"

"I don't know, 30ish?"

"Don't give me a number."

"Um, I look like, a woman," Angela managed to laugh at this opening, "who, well, a woman who likes her body. And wants to...attract men. Not desperate, just...confident. Sexually confident."

"I like that. Sexually confident. Say it again."

Angela took a deep breath and tried to really absorb the image of herself on the screen. "I look like a sexually confident woman."

"Look like?"

"I am," she corrected. "I am a sexually confident woman."

"Go girl. And how does your pussy feel now?"

On another occasion, Angela might have rolled her eyes at Jewel's corny dialogue, but in the midst of her wavering doubt she leaned into her friend's support.

"It feels heavy. And alive. And hot."

"Good. Touch yourself."

"Right now?"

"Just do what I say already!"

Obediently, Angela ran her free hand up her thigh, hiking the skirt, to dip finger tips inside her panties and along her slit. With the garters and thigh length silks, instead of the usual body nylons, her pussy was easy to access. Maybe that's why Jeremy fantasized about them, she wondered. And she had to admit, the vision of herself, glancing down, was...electric.

"And?"

"I'm wet."

"As I expected. Go ahead. Lick your fingers."

Angela laughed, and then blurted out, "they were already in my mouth. You've turned me into a little slut!"

"What a nice thought. So, tell me, what are you going to decide."

"Not to...not to run away and hide. To give it a chance. To give Jeremy a chance." She looked at her phone screen again. "To give myself a chance."

"Good for you. Nothing ventured, nothing gained."

"Thanks. Really."

After she had hung up, she stood totally still for at least a minute. She could easily feel the double-thumb in her chest. More subtle, she could feel that pulse in the swollen folds of her vagina. The core of her body throbbed with something more than just ordinary want. The fear, the possibility of shaming rejection, the decision to risk it all anyway, it was adding...something. Arousal? Need? She willed herself to let it flow, clenching and unclenching her thighs, teasingly milking her clit, until she felt her panties getting damp. They were silk too, soft and thin, and without the stiff barrier of the nylons, she was sure she could smell her own wetness. An involuntary shiver coarsed up her legs, like a horse's flanks shaking with anticipation before a race. She admitted it to herself, her emotions were that powerful - like a mare, in lustful heat.

"I can do this."

All the same, when, a short time later, the door bell of her flat rang and Angela heard youthful voices outside, she could feel the saliva in her throat as she forced herself to walk at a steady pace to the door.

"Hiya!" Jeremy greeted her enthusiastically but all Angela could focus on in those first moments was the girl standing next to him. Tall, leggy, with a cascade of blondish hair she was wearing jeans and a t-shirt and looked incredibly young. And pretty. Angela took a deep breath, smiled her most genuine welcome, and put out her hand.

"Hi you must be Zoey."

They were in the flat before she let herself look at Jeremy. And see his expression. His smile was warm, more than warm, and his eyes were wide. "Wow, Angie, you look..." She could see words forming in his mouth, and then held back. "Um, it's great to see you!" he finished.

They put down their travel bags, and Zoey blurted out "Oh, Miss Price, it's so nice to meet you. And I'm so sorry for giving you no notice, things just fell apart at the last minute with my plans. I do hope this is okay. You can just put me up in a corner or on the floor or whatever, and I'll be going early in the morning to my first day at work."

She was so earnest that Angela's heart melted toward her. It hadn't occurred to her how anxious the young woman might be about staying, essentially uninvited, in another woman's home. Her youth suddenly seemed deferential rather than threatening.

"No need for that," said Jeremy. "You can have the spare room and I can have the couch."

"You're sure? Because I'd be just fine..."

"Absolutely." Jeremy sounded polite but firm. Masculine in fact. Angela pulsed at the sound of his deep voice in her home.

"Well, that sounds settled," she said warmly to Zoey. "Look, why don't I show you your room and let you freshen up." She took her into the spare room, glad that she had decided to change the sheets. They chatted and with each exchange it felt more comfortable, like the pecking order was being set and settled into. Zoey seemed relieved, and Angela felt a growing confidence, even a triumphant sense of her own status as the woman of the house.

"Oh, and do call me Angela, by the way."

"Okay Miss Price." Zoey caught herself and laughed. "Angela. Yes. Oh gosh, someday I would so love to have a London home like you have. You must have a very important job."

Angela smiled. "Just, you know, doing my best."

Zoey looked at her with moist eyes, and with all the innocence of youth, her feelings gushed out. "Oh, actually, you are everything I long to be. You are so...beautiful! And, and, womanly. And gracious. Moving down to London, I know it's going to be hard, but I hope, I hope in the end that I can become someone like you."

"Oh Zoey, you are way too kind."

"Oh no, that's really how I feel," she protested with simple directness. "Jeremy has told me a little about you, and I know he thinks the world of you. Now I can see why."

In the embarrassment of the praise, Angela stepped forward and hugged the tall willow of a girl standing so submissively before her. Zoey seemed to melt in her arms, and she felt tears falling on her neck. Angela stroked her hair with tender fingers.

"Oh, I'm so sorry," Zoey apologised. "It's...it's been a big day I guess."

"Why don't I leave you for a bit," Angela said softly. "Let you get settled."

Gently she closed the door behind her. She felt a shiver of emotion run through her, like a wave of relief. The girl who she had imagined would be such a threat, instead so compliant and vulnerable in her arms. Suddenly, rather than begrudging her, she was glad the girl was so pretty. Truly a lovely young thing, tender and innocent, who felt soft and smelt good, like a new-born child. She imagined that the girl, given the chance, might be quite hopeful about dating the handsome Jeremy, smart and good natured, newly employed in a good London job. After all, she was cute and his age and, Angela quite sure, available. But Angela had absolutely no intention of giving Zoey that chance. No, instead, she joyfully determined, she would make friends with Zoey, bring her under her wing, be a confidante and counsellor to the delicious young girl, draw her into being more and more in awe of her elder's wisdom - and cut her out totally of any chance with Jeremy.

Jeremy.

She walked back into the kitchen where he was rooting through the fridge.

"Looking for a cold beer?"

"That okay?"

"More than ok. I'll have one too."

"I thought you were more the glass of wine girl?"

"I can change," sparkled Angela, grinning at him.

Jeremy looked at her, about to say something, and then just smiled. He seemed so relaxed. Bastard, thought Angela, savoring the word. "I thought you were about to say some corny line, like 'Don't change too much'," she commented, wanting to poke at him.

"Yeah, I thought about it. Too corny even for me." Jeremy popped the bottle top. "I love what you've done with your hair."

Angela's hand flew up to the freshly-cut layers. "You like?"

"Hmmm."

Jeremy was really looking at her. Angela dropped her eyes but glanced back. She wondered if he was noting the new lift given to her cleavage by the expensive bra - or could see past the clothes to what she herself felt, the warm flush of a woman in heat.

"Here." Jeremy's voice was confident, almost commanding. Angela looked up reflexively and saw he had opened a second bottle for her. She took it and stood with one hip leaning against the sink. She was feeling so...feisty. It took self-control not to lean over and smack him with the back of her hand.

"So, Zoey, is she...?" Angela nodded toward the spare bedroom. There was a pause as Jeremy looked puzzled for a moment, then grasped her meaning.

"My girlfriend? God no."

Satisfaction swelled in Angela. She hid her triumphant smile in a swig of beer.

"Really, why not? She seems lovely."

"Oh, very lovely."

"Gorgeous even!"

"Well, I'd say more cute, but yes, very nice. Not really my type, though."

"Too...cute?" Angela had to bite back the words she really want ask - too young?

"She's fine. Really. She'll make someone a wonderful girlfriend. I just don't think it's me."

"Okay then, so what's the back story."

"Oh, I'm sorry. We got cut off on the train, I never got a chance to explain. I literally just ran into Zoey again at the station. She was at my school, I think a year younger than me, remember her vaguely. We got talking, she seemed eager to pump me about London, turns out she's just taken a retail job down here. Well, finally I realized that her dates had got messed up with the woman she's going to be sharing a flat with, and she assumed that she could get a hotel or something last minute. I just felt that she was totally out of her depth, didn't realize how expensive or booked up they can be. And I thought of how helpful you've been to me, and that maybe you'd want to help her out for this one night. Was that okay?"

Angela put her beer down on the counter. She was moved to a depth that she she could barely understand. "Jeremy, that's more than okay. That is totally sweet. I am touched that felt you could trust me like that."

Jeremy looked at her. "But you assumed that..."

Angela looked back boldly. "I didn't assume anything."

There was a pause between them.

"I did mean it," Jeremy said, breaking the silence. He looked down at his beer. "You look...really fantastic."

"Oh Jeremy, I could be..." Angela choked on the words before managing to finish them. "...I could be your mother."

She raised her glance to find Jeremy holding her gaze with a questioning expression. Suddenly, unplanned, indeed against every promise she had made to herself to say silent on the secret, she blurted it out. "Susan told me. Your mother told me."

"Everything?"

"Well, I assume so," Angela said almost light-headed. "I mean, I suppose, how would I know?"

"Well, that we..."

"...that you are your mother had sex. Yes. At least twice."

"Right."

Fire was burning inside Angela, so intense she wasn't even sure of what kind.

"I kind of thought she might," continued Jeremy. "I know you've always been close to her. Are you...are you grossed out?" He dropped his head. He looked truly sad.

Angela was taken aback at the phrase. He feared that she'd find him distasteful now? Want to distance herself from him? The scorching flame inside had the opposite effect. She hastened to reassure him.

"Grossed out? No, no. Not at all. I mean, I suppose, I was shocked when Susan first told me, but I've kind of..."

How to put it into words? That the boy she had let herself have a crush on, a crush she had thought foolish and silly, indulgent and implausible - that this boy had been transformed in her psyche into a sexual being who had not only crossed the ultimate taboo line, but with a woman older than herself. The more she had let herself think about the young man literally fucking his own mother, and apparently satisfying her more fully than any prior lover, the more her own forbidden fantasies had swelled into hope. Initially, it had been a kind of make-believe game. Something to be enjoyed in the privacy of her own mind. A fantasy to bring some ease and solace to her lonely flat. But, unliker her, Susan had dared to make it real. The shock Angela had felt was not displeasure or judgement. It was the shock of realizing that she too might have her deepest desires realized if she just dared take the risk. The irony was, it was her friend's shocking boldness that had given her permission, permission to pursue her previously forbidden desire - Susan's own son.

And now, as he stood before her, tall and languid and masculine, confirming the truth of Susan's earlier confessions, the jealousy melted into a softer heat that was somehow also an all encompassing love. Suddenly she didn't feel like Susan's rival. Why would she need to take him away from his mum? Susan already had a plan to share him, weeks versus weekends, and if this is how Jeremy would be showing up at her place on a Sunday evening...she realized what was different. Before Jeremy had seemed like a puppy - adorable, lovely, all big feet and clumsy movement and potential. Now...it was subtle but it was different. All that potential had turned into a man.

Instead of trying to explain this mess of thoughts, Angela asked if he would come and sit on the couch with her.

"Sure!"

They sat in silence, but somehow it didn't seem awkward. Sex pulsed in her body like blood.

"Jeremy, I guess what I want to know is...gosh, well...honestly, what do I want to ask? What was it like for you?"

Jeremy eyed her again, and Angela was more sure than ever that he was appreciating her. He seemed newly confident. Not cocky, but unashamed. And unintimidated by her question.

"Well, first off, I love my mother..."

"I hope so! I would never want to hear a young man say anything else!"

"Right. But not always in this way. Making love to my mother."

Angela was touched that he would use the phrase. Less pornographic, more sensitive.

"But you enjoyed it?"

"Oh, don't ever let me pretend otherwise. I fully enjoyed it. Fully. I just wouldn't say that I planned it."

Fully enjoyed it. For some reason, Angela savoured the words, despite how they amped up her jealousy. She pushed past them. "Ah, so, not planned. Then how did it happen?"

"What did mum tell you?"

"That she, what, came into your bedroom, sat on the bed, talked with you about fantasies. Hers and yours. That she was wearing a sexy nightie."

"Yeah, that was the start."

"Oh, and that she showed you an edgy movie, you sat together to watch it."

"Yeah, that was the next night. That was pretty, wow. I wouldn't have guessed that they would have released anything like that."

"So explicit?"

"No, not so much that. I mean, I've seen full on naked porn before. But the stuff I've seen, it was so, I don't know, unemotional I suppose. This seemed - all about their feelings. And so crossing the line. I mean, I know they were actors, but showing that forbidden love? Well, sex really. Between grown woman and each others sons? In the place I was at, that was almost more than I could handle. Well, I guess it proved to be more that I could handle."

"Place you were at?"

"Um, well that's a bit awkward."

Angela looked at him with soft eyes. "You don't want to tell Auntie?"

"Oh, my gosh, obviously you could drag it out of me if you act like that. It's just...kind of embarrassing. But...ah well, here goes. I'd been, well, staying at your flat here for a few days. And obviously it's pretty special for me to be here..."