Nate’s Summer #17:Best Friend's Mom

Nate's best friend's mom, Mrs. Hartwell, invites him over for dinner and to read his friend's letters from Navy Boot Camp. Things get steamy, and they are interrupted.

Following my afternoon at the Mayor's house, I went home and stripped off my clothes down to my boxers and fell asleep on my bed from all the exertion. I had been in the middle of a major confrontation between the Mayor and her Mother over the Police Chief, who was the Mayor's sister. The Police Chief had been blackmailing the Mayor, and the Mayor was worried that the press would find out all her secrets.

The biggest secret Mayor was worried about was that she had fucked me, her daughter's prom date, and the Police Chief had a picture of it. I think I told this story earlier. Anyway, I convinced the Mayor that she had nothing to worry about, which I proved by giving her the Polaroid I had stolen from her sister.

That calmed everything down, and the Mayor went back to her office in City Hall, leaving me alone in the sitting room with her mother. The old girl took that opportunity to give me the blow job she said her daughter owed me for saving her political career, then insisted on straddling me while I sat on her couch. She kept hollering that it was like a Jeep ride she had been on when she snuck into Fort Dix back in '41, whatever that meant.

It was still daylight when I awoke to my Slimline phone ringing. I knocked the handset off the cradle, and the handset dangled by the cord over the edge of my bedside table. Reeling in the cord, I was able to get the receiver to my ear. "Hello?"

"Oh, good, I am glad you are there, Nate. It is Elaine Hartwell."

"Hey, Mrs. Hartwell, sorry I have not called like I promised the other day. You hear from Eddie lately?"

Mrs. Hartwell was the mother of my best friend in High School, Eddie Hartwell, who had enlisted in the Navy and shipped off right after graduation. I had enlisted in the Army, but my ship date was not until later in the summer.

Mrs. Hartwell was also the secretary of the town's woman Bishop. Eddie's mom had been involved in that whole mess with the Bishop in her office, and then Mrs. Hartwell helped me get out of it. I know I have told THAT story before.

But it turns out none of that mattered just then. Mrs. Hartwell sounded harried. "Yes, Nate, he is sending me letters from Great Lakes, and he is doing great. But I did not call to talk about Eddie. I am calling about your mother."

This alarmed me. Why would Mrs. Hartwell be calling me about my mother? "What happened? What's going on with Mom?"

"She is here! Your mother said she stopped by Reverend Sponset's office at his church, and the church receptionist told her he was visiting HIS mother, the Bishop. And now your mother has shown up here, at the Bishop's office. I just know she is here for a showdown!" Mrs. Hartwell was sounding hysterical.

I still wasn't getting it, so I said tentatively, "Ok."

Her voice went really high, and she started screaming. "Don't you understand, Nate? That was just a pretense! She is here for a confrontation! When your mother got here, she was looking at me like she knew everything! That the Bishop gave you a blow job and had sex with you, that I held your cock in the photo! Everything! She is in there right now, and probably having it out with the Bishop! She must have found that picture we took!"

"Whoa, Mrs. Hartwell, Mom told me she was stopping by to see the Pastor after she saw her divorce lawyer. I am sure that is why she is there. And no way has she seen the picture; it is still where I hid it."

Mrs. Hartwell sounded calmer. "I am glad to hear you say that, but the news about your mother seeing a lawyer is terrible. Are you sure Marsha and your Dad are getting a divorce?"

"Yeah, she caught him having sex with Jessica Hainley on their bed."

The sharp intake of breath on the line told me Mrs. Hartwell was shocked. "Weren't you dating her? Eddie told me you two were going steady!"

"Yeah, well, I couldn't believe it, but Jessica had already broken up with me, I just didn't know it was so she could be with my Dad."

"Oh, Nate, I am so sorry. But I have to jump off the line and buzz the Bishop. She was panicking when she heard your mother was here, as I imagine you can understand. Bye now."

I hung up the phone and lay back, thinking about how bad things could get if the Bishop were to spill the beans to my mom about blowing me, and having sex on her couch, and the part about taking the compromising picture to keep all of us, including the Bishop's daughter, quiet. Musing about all that, I must have dozed off, since I was startled by the phone ringing again.

I answered, but my voice was gravelly. "Uh, Hello?"

"Nate, it is Elaine again. Don't worry about anything. I was able to interrupt the Bishop and her son to let her know in a whisper that your mother was not there about you." Mrs. Hartwell laughed. "She was so relieved, I thought she was going to kiss me, but she didn't."

I was relieved as well and blew out a big breath. "Wow, I am glad. Thanks for letting me know."

She went on. "But now that I have you on the line, how would you like to come over this evening? I have a crockpot full of roast, and you can read the letters that Eddie sent me from Boot Camp."

I sat up on the bed because my cock had sprung to attention at the idea of visiting Mrs. Hartwell alone at home. "Uh, sure, Mrs. Hartwell, I would really like that, but I think I should stay around here. Mom might want to talk to me or something about Dad and the divorce and all."

She sounded disappointed, saying, "Oh," in a quiet voice. "Well, if you change your mind, call me here at Trinity 33411."

"Hold on, Mrs. Hartwell, I need to find a pen to write that down."

"Oh, Nate, don't bother, just call me later tonight, as late as you want, at home. Nate, I would really like to see you."

Her pleading gave me that feeling you get in the pit of your stomach when you are about to go on a date with someone new. I liked the feeling, especially since it was about Eddie's mom. "I would like that too, Mrs. H."

"Good, I am sure you remember Eddie's number."

Eddie's folks never got him a phone line of his own. I had inherited mine from my sister when she got married and moved out of the house to Maryland. That was always a source of bitterness for Eddie, having no phone of his own, I mean. "Yeah, sure, Mrs. Hartwell, I will call and come over if I can."

She perked up. "Good, Nate. You and me, we have so much to cover. Bye now." She clicked off with a pleasant little rise in her voice.

Hanging up the phone, I sat on the edge of the bed and rubbed my cock through my boxers, thinking about visiting Mrs. Hartwell. She seemed like she was into me that afternoon in the Bishop's office when things got crazy.

But some time had passed, and the Bishop had given me a lot to drink that afternoon, so maybe I was not remembering things too clearly. Although I did have a really vivid image of Mrs. Hartwell in that tight-knit dress, those high heels, and that ankle bracelet. Oh, yes, the ankle bracelet. I reached into my boxers and began stroking myself when the phone rang again.

"Hello?"

"Nate, I am sorry I am not home yet." Mom. "After I saw the lawyer, I went over to the church to see the Pastor and his mother, the Bishop. It was such a good meeting. I am feeling so much better now."

That was about the best news I could hear, for all kinds of reasons. "That's great, Ma."

"But the real reason I am calling you is to let you know I am going over to your Aunt Peggy's to spend the night. You are on your own for dinner. Take a couple of dollars out of the cookie jar and go to Burger Chef."

"Sure, Ma. I love you."

I love you too, Dear." She clicked off.

Hanging up my phone, I lay back on my bed and went back to rubbing my cock, thinking idly about Eddie's Mom.

Eddie and I had gotten into a fight a few days after my 18th birthday when I mentioned to him, when we were drinking Rolling Rock on his back porch, that his Mom was as sexy as Adrienne Barbeau. Eddie went crazy when I said that, exploding into a hurricane of fists, throwing roundhouses, and knocking me over the picnic table. He got in a few punches before I could get him in a headlock to calm him down. But he was not really mollified until I apologized and promised never to say anything like that again.

But that did not stop me from thinking in my own head about how sexy she was. And if anything, she was hotter than that chick on Maude. Even if Adrienne had danced the shimmy shake in a bra to some World War I song.

That made up my mind. I decided to take a shower, put on some clean clothes, and head over to Mrs. Hartwell's for a pot roast dinner and to see where some boldness might take me.

Halfway through my shower, I realized I did not have any shampoo, so I had to run naked through the house back to my Mom and Dad's bathroom to get whatever shampoo they had. The only thing left after my Dad had cleaned out all his stuff was half a bottle of "Body on Tap," the stuff that the blondie in the commercial said, "But don't drink it!"

You would have to be one desperate alky to drink shampoo to get a fix. I wasn't there yet.

Anyway, I came out of the shower with great body in my hair (it said so right on the bottle) and smelling strongly of Brut, so I figured I was ready for action.

Maybe too ready. I had dialed Eddie's number plenty of times. But right then, I kept screwing up the number while trying to call Mrs. Hartwell. I had to start over a few times, banging my index finger over and over again on the little metal arrowhead under the 1 hole, before her phone started ringing. She picked up on the third ring.

"Hartwell residence, Mrs. Elaine Hartwell, speaking." She always answered the same way.

"Oh, hey, Mrs. Hartwell. It is Nate Stovall. Do you mind if I come over for dinner after all? Mom is heading out of town to visit her sister."

She sounded excited. "Oh, Nate, I would love to have you. The house smells wonderful with the pot roast cooking. I am going to make some mashed potatoes. How does that sound?"

"Better than a Big Shef at Burger Chef."

"Oh, Nate. You should not be eating that kind of thing. You need to keep your strength up for the Army with healthy food. You come right over, and I will give you what you need. To eat, I mean." She giggled to herself.

"Sure, Mrs. Hartwell, I will be right over."

Eddie only lived two blocks from me, so I started to walk there, even though it was a little muggy that evening. Mrs. G's house was on the way. When I walked past her driveway, she was just leaving her back door, which opened onto it.

She wore a white, ribbed, sleeveless sweater over her D-cup breasts and little belly, and had on a yellow skirt and sandals with a white leather strap. Her gray hair was styled with a yellow ribbon tied in a bow on top of her head. She smiled and waved at me.

"Yoo-hoo, Nate Stovall! Where have you been, stranger?"

I walked up her driveway. "Hey, Mrs. G., I have been out and about. Went to see my grandmothers before I am supposed to go to Basic. How are you doing?"

She stopped just a couple of feet from me with a bright smile and a playful look on her face. I could smell her floral perfume wafting off her, and my cock began taking notice, remembering the handjob she gave me a few weeks before. "You are so formal, Darling. Give Mrs. G. a little kiss." She closed her eyes and puckered her lips.

I nervously looked around. My Mom was not home, so I did not need to worry about her seeing, but the busybodies in the neighborhood would be sure to report me kissing the neighbor, who was the same age as my grandmother, while standing in the front yard. Mrs. G. opened her eyes, and it was like she was reading my mind.

"Don't worry about the fuddy-duddies around here, Nate. They would probably make up something about us even if we are just standing here chatting. So why don't we give them something to sink their teeth into? Kiss me, Nate."

Who was I to contend with that kind of argument? I leaned over to kiss her lightly on her lips.

She smiled happily. "That was not so terrible, was it?"

"No, Ma'am."

"So, when are you coming by to see me again? I feel like we have some unfinished business to take care of."

I smiled back at her and nodded. "I think you are right, Mrs. G."

"So, where are you going, walking on a hot evening? How come you aren't taking your sexmobile over there? Don't look so concerned, Nate. Everyone in the book club knows all about how your front seat folds down into a bed."

I lifted my hands in shock. "The book club? The book club is talking about me and my car?"

She patted my hand. "Don't worry about those Nosy Nellies. You and your exploits are the most exciting thing to happen in this town since they put in direct dial. We ladies of a certain age like to discuss goings-on around here, one-on-one, not in the midst of the mind-numbing discussions about 'Looking for Mr. Goodbar,' mind you. Although that was a scandalous one, I will admit."

"But still, Mrs. G., I am not sure..."

She patted my hand again. "Chalk it up as the price of fame. Now, you still haven't told me where you are going."

"Uh, over to my friend Eddie Hartwell's house."

Mrs. G. looked at me suspiciously. "Edward Hartwell is in the Navy. And as far as I know, his sister, Sharon, is still in the Peace Corps in Africa, I think." Mrs. G. had been our high school librarian, so she knew all the kids in town, going back many years. "So you are going over to see that gay divorcée Elaine Hartwell?"

I began stammering. "Uh, well, she invited me over to read Eddie's, Edward's, letters from Boot Camp, and she said she had some pot roast. And..."

Mrs. G. smiled and put her index finger with a beige-painted nail to my lips. "You don't need to be coy with me, Nate. I am well aware of your prowess as a cocksman in this neighborhood. I saw you climb into your sister's treehouse with that older woman..."

I thought to myself in a panic, "She saw me go up there with Aunt Peggy?" However, I did not have much time to ponder that, as she continued.

"And I saw you climb over the fence and disappear into Mrs. Su's house while her daughter was at work. Not to mention what you did with Mrs. Sponset. Which was quite surprising for me to discover, especially after she was so upset that you brought her daughter home all disheveled from that night at the skating rink. I think Edward Hartwell had a role in that, as I recall. And if you remember, you spurted your spunk all over me in my own bedroom. I should have figured that Elaine Hartwell would be the next on your list. Instead of 'Love, American Style,' we have 'Love, Nate Stovall Style,' right here in our own neighborhood!" She laughed and clapped her hands together.

I stood blinking at her, only able to muster, "How? How do you know?"

She patted my elbow. "Nate, I have lived in this town my whole life, and I know all the characters, all their mannerisms, all their little 'tells' as the poker players say. I can read their minds just by watching them. Secrets about money are easy to keep, but secrets about sex? They might as well write what they have done across their chests. That is, when they are not just openly blurting out what they did."

"Is that how you found out about me and Mrs. Sponset? She blurted it out?"

"No, Nate. She did not say a thing. But I have known her since she was the town bicycle, twenty years ago. She always got a look on her face whenever she gave someone new a turn. And she had that look, what was it, a month ago? I figured that was you, and you poor dear, you just confirmed it."

She put her arm through mine and walked me to the end of her driveway. I was moving along like Frank Munster from the TV show, my legs stiff, shocked by all the revelations. Mrs. G. did not seem to notice. "You go see Elaine. I would tell you to give her my regards, but I suspect she would not be happy that I know you are on your way to see her."

At the end of the driveway, she tugged my arm, turning me back to her, her face now serious. "And Nate, I am so sorry that your mother caught your father with that little slut, pardon me, Jessica Hainley." She patted my arm again. "No need to defend her. I know she dumped you, and it was just a matter of time before your mother caught your father doing her. You will need to be strong for Marsha. I know you have it in you."

As I was walking away, I said, "Ok, Mrs. G., and thanks."

"And Nate..." I stopped to look at her. She smiled and winked at me. "The offer for a replay of our little interlude is still good."

I smiled back at her and waved before turning out of her driveway toward Mrs. Hartwell's house.

It took me about ten minutes to get there. Mrs. Hartwell's green Olds Cutlass was parked in her driveway behind Eddie's beat-up yellow and white F150 pickup, still in the carport where he left it when he went to Boot Camp. I squeezed around his truck and knocked on the door.

Mrs. Hartwell answered, still wearing her work clothes. She wore a royal blue-and-black knit dress adorned with floral emblems, along with her pearl necklace. Her perfectly round breasts, C Cups, probably, sat high and proud on her chest. She had taken off her pumps, so she was walking around in her sheer knee socks and pink bunny slippers. Her short blonde hair was pulled back behind her ears, and she had pearl earrings. She was a knockout.

When she opened the door, she squealed, "Nate!" then hugged me tightly. "So good to see you, Nate, and thank you for coming over. This house is so empty without a man in it, now that I am divorced and Eddie has gone off to the Navy. Come in, come in!"

Her house smelled great, with the aroma of the pot roast and the mashed potatoes. On her little round breakfast table in the nook, she had set it with two settings of nice China, and two candles were already burning. I had paused to look at the settings when she put her arm through mine, pushing her breast into my triceps.

"It is so rare that I have a reason to cook for someone and to get out the nice China, I figured I would do it up! You don't mind, humoring a lonely old divorced woman, do you, Nate?"

Calling herself "old" shocked me, since I had never thought of her that way, although she was probably a few years older than my mom. "No, Ma'am, Mrs. Hartwell, and besides, you aren't old! And I am happy to eat off your fancy plates, no problem!"

She hugged me again and said, "Oh, Nate, so polite and so well disciplined! You are going to do wonderfully in the Army! Now, sit here, and I will get you a beer."

I pulled back one of the white and yellow chairs and sat, watching Mrs. Hartwell as she bent down to get a Yuengling Lager from a low shelf in the refrigerator. Her butt was as perfect as her breasts. It was like they were all competing to determine which of them was the most perfect globe.

Mrs. Hartwell stood with a glass bottle of beer, turned, closed the refrigerator door, and smiled as she noticed me watching her. She kept her eyes on me as she popped the top with a church key and darted her tongue out to catch the foam that rose from the neck. "You don't need a glass, do you, Nate? Men always drink beer right out of the bottle, isn't that right?"

I grinned at her. "You know it, Mrs. Hartwell." She walked over in her cute bunny slippers and put the beer on the table in front of me, with her hand on my shoulder. Her pearl necklace swung forward, then bounced off her breasts as she stood. Watching all that renewed that tingly feeling in the bottom of my gut that I always got whenever it seemed like a sure thing was about to pay off.

Her fingers brushed mine as she set the bottle down. I took a swig, the lager crisp and tangy, and I watched her as she went back into the kitchen to finish dinner.