It was the hottest day of the year and Nick couldn't wait to get to John's house so the two of them could relax on the couch with the air conditioner on high and bottles of ice cold beer in their hands. They were walking very slowly down the roads inside of the Indian Shack subdivision, their back packs over their shoulders, giant balls of sweat rolling down their faces, their heads low and depressed, their bodies begging for rest. The subdivision was empty except for a few people who were either crazy enough to think that today was perfect for sitting out in the sun and roasting themselves a tan or dumb enough to mow their lawns. A car passed by the young men, honked its horn, and stopped about ten feet ahead of them. Nick picked up his head with what little strength he had and squinted at the back of it. He couldn't tell the make of the car, but he could see that it was silver and small.
But John knew exactly who's car it was. He shouted, "Oh, thank God! It's my mom!"
"Your mom?" Nick said.
"Yeah," John said. "Let's go."
John hurried over to the car, leaving Nick behind without an explanation as to why she was driving this car and not that old red beat up piece of junk she had owned since forever. Nick didn't take offense to it, though, since he would've done the same thing if the shoe were on the other foot.
Opening the passenger door of the car, John looked back at his friend and shouted, "Come on, Nick! Let's go!"
"I'm trying," Nick mumbled, feeling the burn in his feet as he took bigger steps than he had been taking for the past ten minutes. "I'll be right there."
John didn't wait for him. He jumped in the passenger seat and slammed the door shut. Once Nick made it to the door behind the one John had gotten into, he opened it and, immediately, a rush of cold sweet air hit his face, making the car feel the way he imagined Heaven would if he had died on the way over here. John's mother, Maria was looking at him, a bright smile stretching across her beautifully brown face. "Hey, Nick," she said in that sexy New York City accent she had no shame in sharing with the world.
Nick had always thought Maria was gorgeous, especially for a woman of forty, but when she smiled at him the way she was smiling right now, he thought there could be no one more attractive than her. He smiled back. "Hello, Ms. Sanchez," he said. "How are you doing?" He threw his book bag on to the seat next to his and sat down, closing the door much more softer than John had when he got in.
"I'm fine," she said. "Just went shopping for some groceries and stuff. I saw you guys walking and thought, let me stop and pick you guys up before you die of heat stroke, you know." She chuckled. Nick chuckled, too. John stayed quiet, his head leaning against the window, taking in the cold refreshing air from the vents in front of him.
"I'm glad you saved us," Nick said. "For a second there I thought we were gonna die of heatstroke." He wasn't lying. He really did. But even though he knew he was safe, his feet were still aching and burning and he feared that they would melt off of his legs any second now. "Thank you."
"It's no problem. No problem at all. Just doing what I had to do, Sweetie."
"Awesome!" Nick said, and immediately felt stupid for it. Nick always did that to himself around Maria. Made a fool of himself. And he knew exactly why. It was because he had a crush on her. But even though he knew it was normal for someone to act stupid in front of their crush, he still wished he would stop.
She looked back at the road and put the car in drive. A couple seconds later they were headed down the road toward Maria and John's house.
"So," he said, looking around at the interior of the car, his face getting hot. "I see you bought a new car."
"Well, actually, I didn't buy it. It was a gift from my uncle."
"Oh, yeah?"
"He bought himself a new car and asked me if It wanted it. Since my old car is all bent out of shape, I decided to take it. It's not in the best condition. The wheels need to be rotated and the oil needs to be changed and there are a few dents on the side, but all that can be taken care of in the shop for cheap. Not like my other car. I would've had to replace it soon anyway. The engine was all screwed up."
"Oh, wow," Nick said, feeling a little bored. It wasn't that he found Maria boring. No, of course not. He could never find her, herself, boring. It was that he found the subject boring. To tell you the truth, Nick didn't really care about the history of the car. He just asked about it because he knew that any self respecting human would have as soon as they got in, and he wanted to be seen, by Maria at least, as a self respecting human.
"Yeah," Maria said. "It's unfortunate, you know?" I really liked my old car."
"Yeah," Nick said. "It was a nice car."
Maria's house was a giant brick sitting behind a wall of flowers, bushes, and a palm tree. It had two rectangular windows on either side of the freshly painted white front door and a porch that led to a couple of steps which always creaked when somebody walked on them. When Nick first climbed them, he was scared because he thought they would break, sending him straight through the darkness under the porch, but after a couple more visits, he got used to them. Next to the house sat a garage. It was the same shape at the house but, obviously, a lot smaller. It, too, had a white door, but it always stayed closed because Maria always left the car in the driveway.
As Maria pulled into the driveway, Nick put his book bag on his lap. He wanted to tell her that he really loved the house for the billionth time, but didn't. That would've just embarrassed him again.
"All right, guys," Maria said, turning off the car. "We're here." She looked at John. "John?"
John still had his head against the window, but now it was looking down. Slow breaths came and went as Maria smiled and turned to Nick. "Would you believe it? He's sleeping." She chuckled.
Nick let out a fake chuckle and leaned his head to the side, trying to get a view of the side of his best friend's face, but only getting an ear and some cheek. "John," he said.
"John," Maria said. She put a hand on his face. "John. Despertarse, Papi. We're home."
"Huh," John said, lifting his head. "Huh?" He took a deep breath and looked around at his surroundings. "Huh?"
"We're home. Let's go inside. You can sleep in the house."
"You all right there, John?" Nick said, a funny expression brightening up his face.
"Huh?" John said, looking behind him. "Nick? Holy shit! I forgot you were here."
"Hey," Maria said, sternly. "Watch your mouth.."
"Oh, sorry, Mom," John said, looking like an idiot. "I didn't mean it."
"I hope not," Maria said. "I'll smack your mouth if I ever hear that again. This is a Christian house and you're not gonna use that kind of language here. I don't care if you are an adult."
"I know, Mom. I know. I'm sorry. I won't do it again."
Nick fought with all his might not to laugh. He always enjoyed watching Maria get tough with John. It turned him on a lot.
"Good," Maria said. "Now, let's go." She opened her door and got out. She was wearing a brown tank top and a pair of white jeans that really accentuated her double H tits and forty inch booty and as she walked, they jiggled in unison, giving Nick a hard on. He hoped that it wouldn't get as big as it always got when he became aroused, but as soon as he felt the shaft tighten and push the head against the front of his jeans, he knew that it had and all of his hope died. He looked down at his crotch, saw the tent it had made, and heard the trunk open. "Damn," Nick said. He knew that he was going to have to help with the groceries and he didn't want Maria to see him like this. Usually, when it happened around her, he would lay a pillow or his book bag on his lap and leave it there until his erection died down. But that wasn't going to work this time, because this time, he would be standing up and it's much harder to hide an erection when you're on two legs without someone knowing exactly what the hell you were doing.
"What happened?" John said, stretching.
"Uh," Nick said, his mind running a mile a minute, looking for a lie, any lie that he could use right now. After a couple of seconds, John said, "Nick," and Nick responded with: "Nothing. I was just...I just forgot we had that damn paper to do."
"Oh, yeah," John said. "Damn. I forgot all about it, too."
Nick looked out the side window and exhaled shakily. Maria was walking up to the house, a white plastic bag in each hand. He dropped his eyes to his crotch. His hard on had gotten even bigger and even harder in the last couple of minutes.
"Yo," John said. "Let's help my mom pull all that shit inside before she accuses me of being lazy."
"All right," Nick said, his nerves getting the best of him. How about just putting the bags over your crotch? he thought. Just carry em in front of you and block it from view. She won't notice what's going on. Right? Bullshit. She'll notice. She'll fucking notice and then I'm screwed. Fuck! Jesus God help me.
John opened his door, then Nick opened his. Jon walked around the car to the trunk and started grabbing some bags. Nick got out and followed his erection to the side of the trunk, making sure to stay as close to the car as possible so John wouldn't be able to see it. John, holding more bags than Nick thought he could, walked back around the car and up to the house, his head hanging as low as it had when he was walking with Nick just a few minutes ago. Nick waited until John was inside the house, then went directly behind the trunk. There were only four bags left. All filled with heavy ass carts of juice and milk. Oh great, he thought. This is gonna be beautiful. He picked them up, two in each hand, then hung them in front of his erection and, slightly bending over, struggled his way up to the house, looking like a moron who had no idea what he was doing. Which he was.
As he climbed the stairs, Maria came out of the house and saw how dumb he looked. Nick's heart jumped into his throat. "Oh," she said, sounding surprised. "Nick are you okay? Are they too heavy for you?"
Shit, he thought. This was all he needed. Just great. He was screwed. .
Her tits bounced maniacally as she hurried over to him, her hands reaching out for him.
"No," he said, sweat forming on his forehead, his legs and hands quivering, his body bent over the step above the one he stood on. "I'm good. I'm good. Just, uh, tired is all."
"Here, sweetie," she said. "Let me help you." She reached for the bag.
Nick pulled it away. "No, it's fine. Really. I'm all right. Just go inside. I'll be right there." His thoughts were all over the place. He quivered a lot faster now. His breathing came and went hard and fast.
