The Glamorous Passenger

Author's note: This picks up right where Chapter 1 left off. I have included some expository sentences for those that may need to be reminded of some of the details in the last chapter, but if you haven't already read Chapter 1, this chapter won't make much sense.

Standard disclaimer: All explicit sexual activity described in this story is between adults 18 and over.

Enjoy.

CHAPTER 2

I buttoned my jeans back up, made my way back to the driver's seat and started the engine. Melissa pulled her underwear back on and joined me in the front after moving the seat back to its normal position.

"So how far is it?" she asked. As I started driving, she was checking her face in the vanity mirror and touching up her makeup, so she wouldn't give away that she had spent the last few minutes crying and having cathartic sex.

"It's about a half-hour, give or take, depending on traffic."

"Do you live alone? Is there a roommate or a partner I should know about?"

"I have two boys. William's fourteen and Justin's eight. Their dad doesn't live with us anymore for obvious reasons."

"You might want to take an Altoids, then."

"What do you mean?"

She put her hand on my knee and said, "Kay, not that I don't appreciate what you did for me just now, but I can smell my pussy on your breath. Unless you want them asking embarrassing questions, you'd better cover it up."

"Well, it's not like they don't know what this means," I said as I pointed to the tattoo on my shoulder of the interlinked rainbow-striped female symbols. I had worn a white short-sleeved blouse over my green sleeveless t-shirt earlier in the evening because I never know how a fare will react to my ink. But after our adventure in the middle row of my van, I didn't see any reason to cover it up again, so the blouse got left behind.

We both laughed a bit at our joke, but I still took a breath mint and a sip of water that I kept on hand for my passengers who wanted them.

"But seriously, I am so blessed to have two sons and an ex-husband who are supportive of me living as my true self."

"Ugh! If only I had that! Craig never could get over me being bi, and Angie's too young to know about that kind of stuff. Plus, my mom still insists it's just a phase I had in college. And I've told her enough times that even though I haven't had a serious girlfriend since then, I'm still not straight and never will be. My dad doesn't like it either, but he at least he always believed me about Craig and is fine with me divorcing him." Craig was Melissa's abusive ex-husband, and the reason why she was staying with me tonight.

We arrived at my place, which was a cramped two-bedroom apartment in an old, cheaply built complex in a somewhat unfashionable neighborhood. But even working two jobs, I could just barely afford it.

"I'm sorry. I know it's not as nice as where you're used to staying."

"You know what's nice, Kay? Being able to sleep somewhere for the first time in over four years where I know Craig can't find me."

It was around 8:55, and despite my very firm rule that Justin was supposed to be in bed by 8:30 on a school night, I found both my sons streaming videos in the living room.

"Guys, turn your tablets off. I want you to pay attention. This is Melissa. She needs a place to stay, so she'll be sleeping over tonight.

"Melissa, the tall one over there is William, my oldest, and the cute one next to him is his brother Justin."

"I'm not cute!" Justin's sweet baby face turned into a funny little scowl that made me just want to pinch his chipmunk cheeks.

"Okay, the handsome one, then."

William let his adolescent hormones take the reins, looked Melissa up and down and said, "Oh, wow! I know you! You're the hottie from the TV ads! Wait until I tell the guys that she stayed over at my place! They'll be so jelly!"

Melissa gave an indulgent smile to William and said, "Sorry, kiddo. I hate to break it to you, but I prefer to date people who are a little older than you and your friends." She then grabbed me by the waist, placed her face just a few inches from mine, gave me that lop-sided smirk and single cocked eyebrow that I already knew I would never be able to resist again, and added, "Not to mention, female." She gave me little smooches on my cheek and neck and started playfully nibbling my ear.

As much as I was loving it, and even though it was pretty much PG-rated, I was a bit self-conscious about the PDA in front of my kids. And apparently, they felt the same way because in the middle of this make-out session, I heard Justin cry out, "Eeeeewww!!!! Gross!!!!"

"Kay, I thought you said your kids were okay with you being a lesbian."

William responded, "We are, but nobody wants to think about their mom having sex. That's, like, next-level barf-inducing."

"Come on, guys! Of course your mom has had sex. Where do you think you guys came from?'

And Justin said, "Yeah, but she's gay, so she didn't like it!"

Touche !

"Mom, why didn't you tell us you had a girlfriend?"

Oh, geez! I didn't want to lie to them, but I also didn't want them to know that this was a stranger I just met and hooked up with less than an hour ago. I decided to tell them something that was technically the truth but left out embarrassing details. "We've only just started seeing each other, and this is the first night we're spending together. And trust me, if there was any other way, I would not be bringing someone home quite so soon. But Melissa's in trouble. Her ex-husband is stalking her, and she needs a place to stay where he can't find her. So while she's here, please be respectful, and until you hear otherwise, keep it a secret that she's staying with us.

"Also, William, this absolutely does not mean you have permission to bring girls over here to spend the night. You're not eighteen yet, and as long as you live under my roof, there will be no underage hanky-panky. Understood?" Only two months into his freshman year at high school, William already had a reputation as a player and a heartbreaker. Like his father, he was handsome, over six feet tall, had a mop of brown-black hair in an emo cut, and was well-muscled from football practice. He was dating a sophomore girl and had been caught making out with an 11

th

-grader on the cheer squad. I tried to tamp things down by driving him to school every day in my minivan and letting all my students know this year that I was not only his mother but also his ninth-grade social-studies teacher. But that didn't seem to have much impact.

"Both of you, unless you have homework, get to bed! Now!"

William and Justin reluctantly got up and trudged to their shared room, and Melissa and I sat down on the couch together. It was now just the two of us alone for the first time in my home. This was the first time I had gotten a really good look at her with adequate lighting. The sun was going down when I had picked her up at the bar and it was dark during our time in the van together, and she looked like she was in her early-to-mid-twenties then. Now--in the light--I could see a few faint lines on her forehead and around her eyes and the corners of her mouth that showed she was closer to thirty. But she still looked five to ten years younger than the thirty-seven years old that she claimed to be. What had not changed in the light was her aquamarine eyes, her shoulder-length feathered dirty blond hair, the chain of pearls, the black ribbon choker with the diamond pendant, the sexy cocktail dress that showed off her legs and cleavage, and the fact that this was still the most beautiful woman I had ever seen in my life.

"So . . . um . . . my bedroom's that way. You can have the bed. I'll sleep out here on the couch."

"What are you talking about? Why can't we share the bed?"

"Well . . . um . . ., what we did in the van was great and all, but . . . um, I don't want to push my luck. Otherwise, I'm worried that I'd be taking advantage of you."

"Hey! Who made the first move?"

"You did."

"Whose idea was it to have sex instead of just kissing?"

"It was yours."

"And who--just a few minutes ago--told your kids that we're not just friends?"

"That was you. But . . ., I mean . . . you're so vulnerable right now. Your divorce is still fresh, you've been drinking, and you got a bad scare when we got to your house."

"Do you know why I was at the bar tonight?"

"You said it was to celebrate your divorce being finalized."

"And there's a reason I left Angie with my parents tonight instead of hiring a babysitter. And it wasn't because I was worried about Craig. My plan for tonight was to find someone at the bar and bring them home for some hot no-strings-attached rebound sex. But all the men were creeps, and the only other woman there who wasn't straight was looking for a third for herself and the guy she was with. And like I told you before, I don't do threesomes. So I hailed a ride after only one glass of wine. I'm under the legal limit, and if I had taken my own car there, I could've driven myself home without getting arrested."

"Okay, but I still feel kind of guilty for letting things get so far after your ex upset you like he did."

"Do you know what my plans were before I saw his car in the driveway?"

"Um. . ., I'm guessing have another glass of wine, watch a little TV and go to bed?"

"No. Well, maybe the wine part. But I was going to invite you in, feel things out to make sure my gaydar was still working, then seduce you. I mean, maybe my game is a little off, but didn't you notice me flirting with you during the ride over there?"

"I thought you were just playing. I mean, you're so stunningly gorgeous, you could have anyone you like. I didn't see why you would want a broke, frumpy, middle-aged woman like me. Frankly, I still don't."

"I understand some women just like to flirt for fun, but I'm not one of them. If I flirt with someone, it means I'm attracted to them. Do you really want to know what it is about you that caught my attention?"

"Yeah."

"It was your hair." She ran her fingers through my long, frizzy, light brown hair. "You probably won't believe me, but under the streetlamp, I could see those flecks of gray in your hair, and I thought it was so sexy."

"You're kidding."

"No, I'm not. It may sound crazy because I know I look younger than I really am, but I like women who aren't afraid to show their real age. I was seriously attracted to you when you first rolled down your window to pick me up, and I was determined to have sex with you tonight. The only way you've taken advantage of me is that instead of the one-night stand I originally planned, I want to keep seeing you and explore how far this goes between us." She leaned in and kissed me softly and slowly. "I know that might seem a bit weird since we only met just a little over an hour ago, but the more I get to know you, the more I like you."

*Kiss*

"The way you listened to me rambling on during the ride from the bar."

*Kiss*

"The way you held me when I was scared."

*Kiss*

"The way you offered me a place to stay when you didn't have to."

*Kiss*

"The way you handle your kids."

*Kiss*

"All of it just makes you that much more attractive to me. So, will you please come to bed with me? The quickie in the van was nice, but I want more from you, and I want to show you just how amazing you are."

She took my hand as we got up from the couch together and I led her into my bedroom. As soon as we closed the door, we started kissing each other again, but hard and lustfully this time instead of the soft, sweet kisses we had just shared in the living room. It wasn't long before I felt her tongue searching for mine, and I returned the favor.

She pulled away after almost a minute and said, "Ugh! My feet are killing me! Do you mind if I take my shoes off?"

"Not a problem."

She sat on the bed and removed her strappy heels, then stood back up on her bare feet and started kissing me again. With her heels on, she had been two inches taller than me. But now that she was barefoot and I was wearing flat tennis shoes, I was slightly taller, standing 5'8" to her 5'7". Going from tilting my head up to kiss her to being almost level during our kiss was an interesting change.

"Maybe we should take a little more off. I've been dying to see what's under that green shirt of yours. Do you have any more tattoos?"

I took off my glasses, then my shirt, and exposed my saggy D-cup boobs in a Wal-Mart bra and a pale midriff with a roll of fat that hid my belly button. "Sorry. 'Fraid not. I don't like needles. The one on my shoulder is mostly because I waited until after I was 40 to stop pretending to myself that I wasn't gay, and I needed something permanent to make sure I couldn't get away with that again. And since that one hurt like a motherfucker when I got it, I have no desire to get another one."

"Okay, well then let me show you my tattoo that I got in college." She took off her chain of pearls and her dress but left on the choker, and exposed these perky breasts that were on the small side of a C-cup and a flat, nicely toned stomach. The only way I could tell that she was a mother was that her nipples were permanently swollen and droopy from having breastfed. She turned around and I saw a sunflower tattoo over her bottom.

"My first serious girlfriend in college used to always call me 'Sunflower' because of my blond hair and because I was a head taller than her, so I got this for her." She stared into space and smiled. "It's funny. You're the first person I've ever told about this. Everyone else I've been with just assumes it's a tramp stamp." She looked back at me and sighed. "And you remind me so much of Layla. You've been so selfless with me all night tonight. Making sure that my wishes are respected and that my needs are taken care of. Nobody since Layla has done that for me. Male or female." Her face suddenly became somber. "Layla died a few months after we started dating. A drunk driver ran her over. Since then, there have been a few female hook-ups, but I never found another woman that I wanted to stay with for more than just a night." Then she cheered right back up, gave me that lopsided grin with the cocked eyebrow. "Until now, that is."

She walked up to me and started kissing me again. This was our first physical contact with each other undressed, and it shook me to the very foundations of my being. "Should I start calling you 'Sunflower', then?" I asked.

"Hmm, . . . I'm not sure. I mean, yeah, I'm still blond, but without my heels on, you're taller than me." She couldn't keep a straight face for long and laughed out loud. "Of course you can call me 'Sunflower.' I'd really like that."

We started kissing again as she reached around my back to unhook my bra. Once it was off, my breasts drooped down almost to my waist. They're plenty big, but not at all firm. She didn't care. She just muttered, "You're so wonderful," and started sucking on my nipples while unbuttoning my jeans again. I pulled back to take off my shoes and pulled down my pants to expose a cheap pair of panties that matched my cheap bra.

"Let's get to bed," she said as she came back to kiss me. While our lips were attached, she wrapped her arms around me and practically threw me onto the bed. She then pulled back and said, "You have such beautiful eyes. It's a shame you hide them behind those glasses."

I don't think my eyes are that special. They're naturally light grey, but depending on the top I'm wearing, they can look pale green or sky blue. "Well, I need the glasses for driving, my TV and my laptop. I'm nearsighted and I have astigmatism. But right now, holding you so close, I don't need them to tell that you're completely gorgeous."

I started kissing her again and she kissed back aggressively. "Kay, can I please do to you what you did to me back in the van?"

"Of course. I'd like that."

She started slowly licking my neck, then started moving downward to the space between my breasts. But she did me one better than what I did in the van. Back then, she was still fully clothed, so I couldn't play with her breasts. But now she was licking and sucking my left nipple while squeezing my right between her fingers. Then after a minute or so, she switched, licking and biting my right nipple while squeezing my left.

"Oh, God! Oh, yes!"

Her mouth and hands moved away from my breasts and down towards my middle. She moved the rolls of fat away and was able to find my belly button, which she played with using her tongue.

"Oooh! That tickles. I'd forgotten how much I like it. Nobody's done that to me since my first pregnancy."

"Well, that's something that's going to have to change, isn't it? I promise I'll do this to you as long as you'll let me."

"Oh my God, yes. Sunflower, you're so wonderful!"

Melissa stopped and blushed.

"What?"

"That's the first time in almost twenty years somebody's called me 'Sunflower' during lovemaking. Hearing you call me that brings up so many good feelings that I didn't think I'd ever have again."

"Okay, so let's make a bargain. I'll keep calling you 'Sunflower' as long as you keep doing that to my belly button."

She crawled back up to kiss me on the mouth. "Deal. But now I think I'm done with the appetizer, and I'm ready for the main course."

She slid herself down and--like I did to her in the van--she slowly removed my panties and gave gentle butterfly kisses down my legs as the panties made their painstaking movement downward. Once my underwear was on the floor, she moved back up and placed her head between my thighs and let her tongue work her magic on my pussy. Typically, the first few times someone tries to eat me out, I have to tell them what to do before they can get it right. But my beautiful Sunflower somehow instinctively knew where to go, when to hold back and when to go hard, and not once did I ever have to tell her "Go there," "Not yet," or "Harder." As a result, I felt my orgasm slowly building up and I was on the edge for nearly two minutes before I finally came. It was one of the greatest orgasms of my life and I needed to scream out, but I remembered that my kids were on the other side of the wall, so I bit my lip and let out a high-pitched hum that I hoped the boys couldn't hear.

Melissa climbed back on top of me, and we kissed hard again. "Your turn," I said.

"Nuh-uh. I already got mine in the van, remember? We'll have to think of something else."

"Hmmm . . ., maybe it can be both our turns?"

"I like the sound of that. Give me a second." She lifted herself off of me and turned around so now her pussy was in my face and her head was between my legs again. I pulled down her black thong--quickly this time--and like she had done to me in the van, I put my finger up her slit and started mercilessly rubbing on her G-spot. Meanwhile, she was lapping at my clit with her tongue again. We were so in sync with each other that we both managed to come simultaneously, with not even a second's difference as to when our orgasms hit.

Those orgasms didn't ease our need for each other's bodies. If anything, they made it more intense. She shook her thong off her legs, then we went back to fiercely kissing each other and--without saying anything--we crossed our legs over each other until our pussies were touching and started tribbing. Maybe it was because I was playing with her breasts while we were doing this, or maybe it was because she had her tongue in my mouth most of the time, but when the orgasm first hit, she took her face off mine and started to scream. I had to put my hand over her mouth and whisper, "Ssshhhh! The boys are in the next room." I put my mouth back on hers as she squealed into my throat. Then she stiffened and squirted all over me. That had never happened to me before, even though I had had sex with women fairly regularly from the night of my high school prom up until I met my ex-husband. It was enough to send me over the edge as well and I came hard.