Devin and I were best friends when we were little. Since before I could even remember we had been going to each other's houses. As we got older, I probably would have stopped being his friend. Devin was a total dork, and I wasn't anymore. I played sports, and had other friends, but Devin just had me. Like I said I probably would have ended the friendship, if not for his mom. Devin's mom was without a doubt, the hottest woman I knew.
We did hang out less as we went through high school, but I always made sure to go over to his house at least once or twice a week. I knew he was getting a lot out of our friendship, as I basically kept all of the would be bullies off his back. And I felt that staring at his mom and daydreaming about her was a fair trade off. Mrs. Clark was always extremely friendly to me, as she knew I was Devin's only real friend. I think she knew I liked her, because it almost seemed as if she would flaunt it at me.
By the time our senior year came around, and we were both over eighteen, it seemed as if her efforts really ramped up. All of a sudden whenever I would come over, she would change her outfit, into something much more revealing or sexy. Devin didn't seem to notice at all, but I certainly did. She began to wear sexy workout clothes, with tight spandex, or sexy sundresses. If she was trying to get my attention, it was definitely working.
One Saturday night I was sleeping over at their house, and I hatched a plan. First I brought beer over, and made Devin drink a few. I knew he wouldn't last long, and I was right. After an hour of drinking and playing video games, he passed out on his bed. I got up, and took the rest of the beers, and went out to the living room to watch TV. I had only been hoping that Sherrill would come out, so we could talk a bit, and I could finally start planting the seeds I wanted to. What happened instead couldn't have worked out better for me.
I could hear Mr. and Mrs. Clark fighting in the other room. I felt a little bit creepy for listening, but the conversation quickly got interesting.
"It's not my fault damnit," Mr. Clark yelled angrily, "I work all goddamn day, it's exhausting. I'm sorry I can't come home and take care of your wild desires."
"Wanting to have sex once or twice a month isn't exactly wild henry," Sherrill yelled back, "I'd say its pretty reasonable for a girl like me to want a man that can at least get it up once in a while."
"Then why don't you go find some young asshole with a big hard pecker to come fuck you, and then he can pay all your bills, how about that," henry shouted.
"You know what Sherrill, I'm about sick of your shit," henry continued, "if you really want to get fucked that bad then you can leave, better yet, I'll leave." I heard the door bang open, and then saw Mr. Clark storm across the room to the front door. He marched out, and slammed the door behind him, without ever seeing me sitting in the other room. A minute later the door opened again, and Mrs. Clark came walking out. She was wearing her night robe, and looked like she had been crying. She began walking towards the kitchen, and I cleared my throat to let her know I was there. She did a little jump at first, and then saw me sitting there.
"Oh, Chris, you scared me," she said with a start.
"I'm sorry Mrs. Clark," I said, not sure what to say, "Devin passed out, so I came out here to watch the end of the baseball game."
"Oh, well, I hope you didn't hear me and henry fighting," she said, looking embarrassed.
"I heard some yelling, but I couldn't hear what you were saying," I lied, "is everything alright?"
"Oh yes, of course," she lied, "just normal husband and wife stuff. Now what happened to Devin, he doesn't usually go to sleep this early?
"Oh, well, uh," I began awkwardly, "I brought over some beer, I hope that's alright, I figured if we stayed here and didn't drive or anything it would be ok."
"That's very responsible of you," she said, and sat down on the other couch, "as a matter of fact, I would rather he drink with you a bit before he goes off to college."
"Ya, that's probably a good idea, he's a bit of a light weight," I said, and we both laughed.
"So is his father," she said, "I could sure use a drink right now though." I picked up a beer and offered it to her, but she laughed and shook her head.
"I'm more of a wine girl," she said.
"Do you have any?" I asked. She looked a bit taken aback, but she nodded her head.
"So have it," I suggested, "Mr. Clark probably wont be back soon from the way he left, and Devin certainly isn't going anywhere. You said yourself you could use a drink, and you don't even have to drink alone."
"Ok then," she smiled, "you've convinced me." She got up, and went into the kitchen. A moment later she returned with a bottle of red wine and a glass. She poured herself half a glass, and we toasted and drank. She asked me about school then, and I began talking about my classes, while we both drank. I was pleased to see that she was drinking even more than me. When she poured a second glass, it was much more full. An hour later, she had nearly finished off the bottle, and I could tell she was drunk.
"So Chris," she said happily as she took another drink, "you weren't coming over here anymore for a while, Devin thought you were mad at him."
"No, I wasn't mad at all," I said and took a drink myself, "I had a girlfriend for a while, and she was pretty damn demanding."
"Oh, demanding was she, now you sound like my husband," Sherrill said annoyed, "and how was she demanding."
"I mean she wanted me to spend most of my time with her," I said truthfully, "and she didn't want me hanging with my friends, that's why I wasn't coming over very much. She was also pretty demanding intimately," I said daringly, hoping she would take the bait.
"Oh really," Sherrill said, looking even more annoyed, "what did she want to do, have sex with you?"
"If that was all it wouldn't have been any problem," I laughed, "I can do it once or twice a day, but she wanted to do it like five times every day, and I'm not a machine." Sherrill looked at me seriously, as if she was trying to see if I was joking or not.
