Bringing a Man Home

Elena's POV

Bringing a Man Home

After our lengthy conversation at Relax Coffee, my phone rang, and looking at it, I noticed it was my mom. I quickly stood up and walked to a more private place to pick up the call, knowing Mom, the first word would be a scream. I had stayed longer than I was supposed to, and she must have gotten home to meet my absence. So, as I predicted, she was yelling on the phone, asking about my whereabouts, and I told her that I was at Relax Coffee. She asked what I was doing there by this time. My shift is in the evening, and I told her that I was with friends having a cup of coffee.

After the call from Mom, I walked to the table and told them that I would be going. "It's getting late; my mom is waiting for me," I said. Jayson, in his soft but deep voice, offered to take me home, but I politely declined, suggesting that he stay with his friends instead. I didn't want to impose, especially since my mind had conjured up an image of Jayson as a daring motorbike rider, which terrified me. I remember our neighbour in Minnesota who died in a motorcycle accident; since then, I have vowed never to ride on a otorcycle. And looking at Jayson, he looked just like those men who are in their dark shades, leather jackets, sitting on power bikes, riding like life does not mean a thing.

"No, I don't ride on bikes; I'm too scared to fall," I explained, nervously fidgeting with the coffee cup. I couldn't help but glance at Jayson's friends, who were sharing an amused look. Alex looked at his man Raymond and burst into laughter, drawing even more attention. I think he was mocking me. Alex is such a troublemaker, trust me.

"He doesn't ride bikes, besty; look over there," Alex said, pointing outside the café. I followed his gaze and was taken aback. A sleek Ferrari was parked just outside. Yeah, that is his car." My jaw dropped in surprise. Jayson, with his youthful appearance, was the owner of such an expensive car. Thoughts raced through my mind, and one particularly wild idea crossed my imagination: "Maybe he's a drug dealer." Yeah, he just fit the description of Antonio, the billionaire mafia boss in the novel I am still reading.

"I will drive you home, Momma," Jayson offered with a gentle smile, calling me "Momma" just like the very same Antonio, the character from a Mafia romance novel I'd read. The reference brought a playful blush to my cheeks. I smiled like some roasted goat with my 32 all exposed. I tried to cover my face with my hair, but the stubborn Jayson used his hands to part the hair open again, and then I summoned the courage to wave off his offer, suggesting that he take his friends home instead since they came on one car.

"Sure, I'll come back for them, but that's after I have driven you home," Jayson insisted, ignoring my protests. He seemed genuinely concerned about my safety, which melted my already liquid heart.

So, we left Relax Coffee together, with Alex chanting some love songs for us as we left. That boy is just so annoying; he added more nervousness to my walk. I hardly raised my legs, and in no time, I found myself sitting in the luxurious Ferrari. It felt so good, like I was Cinderella being chauffeured into a palace. I had so much I wanted to say, but shyness held my tongue. He was so handsome, and he played this soft romance song by Ed Sheeran, "Perfect," and he indeed was perfect. In my mind, I sang along while he hummed to the song. Occasionally, he will glance at me during the ride, causing me to turn my head and gaze out the window. The drive was mostly silent, filled with unspoken thoughts and desires. I don't know if it's a superpower or a side effect. I get wet easily, and starting at his biceps and soft-looking lips, I could feel my pussydrool. My underpants were already sticky. I just wish I didn't get soaked in my red skimpy gown.

When we arrived at my place, I asked Jayson to stop in front of our house. I didn't want to invite him inside because my mom would be home, and I couldn't just bring a man over without explanation. We stood in front of my house, facing each other, engaged in a silent staring competition.

Jayson's hand gently cupped my face, making my heart race. He leaned in and gave me a soft, lingering kiss on the lips. I blushed furiously, feeling weak in the knees. I felt this sweetness rush all over me and cause me to drool even more. My ass felt so slippery. I wished I dared to initiate more, or even ask him in, and maybe have my first right now, but Jayson pressed his lips to my temple, breaking the tension. He whispered his goodbyes and retreated to his car, driving away.

As soon as he left, I couldn't contain my excitement. I jumped up and down, dancing like a giddy teenager. It felt like a dream come true. I'd never had a boyfriend before, and now, without any effort on my part, I had the guy of my dreams kiss me. And I think this could mean saying goodbye to virginhood, and this constant wetness, which I believe is a result of my being sex-served, will end.

However, as I opened the front door, I felt a firm grip on my hand, yanking me inside. It was my mom, Maria, who could be quite the stealthy observer at times. She had witnessed the entire scene. Oh my God, she even saw me jumping like a goat over a kiss. Huh, she might think of me as a sloth.

"I saw everything," she said with a mischievous grin, her eyes sparkling with amusement. My cheeks flushed even deeper, and I found myself blushing under her watchful gaze.

I reluctantly took a seat, and she prodded for information, her curiosity getting the best of her. "Now tell me, who is that handsome boy that brought you home?" she inquired, her probing gaze fixed on me.

I hesitated at first, struggling with my shyness, but my mom's persistence broke through my defences. "He is a friend, just a friend, Mom," I admitted.

 "Hmm... Just a friend, you say. Do you kiss all your friends?" Mom asked; she still had that annoying smile. She was never letting me go unless I told her all I knew.

"He is a friend of a friend, and I think there might be more, but I'm not sure." I hinted, all the while maintaining my teenage bashfulness.

"Hmm... I see, he is quite a gentleman; I saw how he kissed you, and you liked it, little thief." Mom said it jokingly, and I blushed even more.

"Wait, what is that smell?" Mom asked while sniffing around; she came closer to me, trying to sniff my thighs. "Are you wet? What? Hahahaha, my little girl is  craving Mom said I felt so embarrassed, and I ran out of the sitting straight to wash myself.