A Change With Sam Ch. 03

It was a quarter to three before I knew it, and I broke my trance to see my Government teacher glaring down at me. The ring of the bell was my safety net, and I broke into the hallway among a rowing throng of smashing bodies before anyone could catch me to talk. I knew Sam was on the other side of the school at that moment, getting out of class. We each had one more before the day ended for good, yet I was already contemplating skipping so that I could get a few things done. The way I saw it, if I used the next forty-five minutes to quickly get to the store and back I would be able to do some shopping without bothering Sam with it, and we could focus on cleaning up her house and getting ready for dinner. Her mother would be home at four, and her girlfriend Alicia was supposed to swing by a little after six.

I was pushing through the front doors of the school before the next bell rang, my satchel banging against my hip with the weight of my books. I found my car in the parking lot, slid my key into the door, unlocked it, through it open, tossed my satchel into the passengers seat, and was pealing out of the lot before the door was shut. If Sam was with me she would've been asking me what the hurry was, and honestly I wasn't so sure. The entire day was putting me on edge, I couldn't recall a time when I was so constantly excited. I was nervous about meeting her mom, and her mom's girlfriend, but I was also a little nervous to see Sam. Every day I was nervous to see her again. She did things to me.

I pulled into the parking lot of one of the local groceries (but not the one Sam worked at). I stepped through the automatic sliding glass doors and made my way straight to the wines. I wasn't sure what her mom was into, but I knew what I liked, and that seemed like the best bet. I grabbed a Chardonnay and a Merlot, both from California, and took off down the other aisles. I tried to remember what it was that Sam and I had snacked on the few nights we had been at her house. A loaf of bread, a loaf of cheese, some yogurt, a few fruits and vegetables. It didn't take long for me to throw everything in the basket and make a determined line for the cash registers.

And that's when I saw Janet.

For some reason I knew, I knew that she worked at this store and I had known for some time. Why wasn't she at school? I looked around for another open register. It was slow yet in the store, and they only needed the one, and Janet stood there like some passive guardian just waiting to stare me down while I fumbled for the cash to pay for my goods. It would have to be that way, and I silently sulked as I dropped my basket on the little conveyer belt that moved each customer's product towards the inevitability of payment.

"Brett," she said coolly, as if we had seen each other only hours earlier and not months. "You look well."

"Hey, uh, Janet. Yes. You aren't at school?" I asked, then mentally I kicked myself. Why was I engaging in conversation with my ex?

"No, I can't afford to waste my time there. You know how it is Brett, or have you forgotten?"

I hadn't forgotten, I knew about Janet's home life. I knew she emancipated at sixteen and was abused by former boyfriends. Yet at that moment all I could think about was escaping from her with my skin intact. Janet always had a way of dissecting me, especially when I didn't want it. I handed over a few crumpled bills and she gave me my two grocery bags and change.

"Looks like you are going to have a nice night with Sam. Enjoy yourself," she said icily. I wondered what it was that she wasn't saying, what was it that she knew? I convinced myself it didn't matter, and left the store, heading towards my car.

Sam was there on the steps of the school when I arrived, and I realized that I had overshot myself by about ten minutes. She slid into the passenger's seat and threw her bag in the back. She was wearing a pale blue blouse, a skirt that went down to her knees, and tights. It was the sort of outfit she wore on days where she felt especially brave, or especially pretty. I kissed her and told her she was beautiful and she returned a pout.

"Why did you go to the store without me?" she asked.

Oh.

"I wanted to get a few things off my list without having to drag you along. I figured we'd have more time to clean up the house before your mom gets home and maybe start on dinner?" I said.

Sam weighed my answer while staring into my eyes. She rifled through the bags of groceries and sighed. "You bought us food, didn't you?" she asked.

I shrugged. "It's not a big deal. I just bought what I ate over the last few weeks. And some wine, for dinner," I said. "A few things I like."

"You didn't have to do that," she said in a small voice. I couldn't tell if she was hurt or not, and she looked away. I decided not to tell her about Janet in that moment, it wasn't a big enough deal. Sam and I had never fought before. Was it possible that I underestimated her sensitivity concerning their financial trouble? I was honestly just trying to be kind. Shit. I knew I should've just hidden the food items from her.

We drove the five minutes to her house in silence, and when I pulled up the street and turned off the car, Sam turned back and stared at me. Her eyes were watery and she had the slightest frown on her face. She was wearing a pale pink lipstick and had used moderate make-up that day.

"I don't want to fight, Brett. Can we just not fight? I won't be upset with you anymore, I promise. Thank you for the food," she said, and opened her door and exited the car.

I was bewildered. I grabbed the three bags of groceries and followed her into the house. She opened and closed the door, removed her shoes, and grabbed a bag from me. We walked into the kitchen and I sat the bottles of wine on the countertop. Sam started putting things away on the counters, in cupboards, into the refrigerator. She was holding the loaf of cheese when she turned around abruptly and kissed me.

"I'm difficult," she admitted.

"No," I said.

"I am. I don't mean to be. I have more issues than a normal girl, don't I?" she asked.

I thought back to Janet and shook my head. "Definitely not. I like you the way you are, Sam," I replied. "You are being a little silly."

She nodded. "I am, aren't I?" she said. Glancing at the ticking clock mounted on the wall above the sink, she took me into her arms and breathed in my cologne. "It's not even three yet."

"Your mother gets home around four. We have to clean this place up," I told her.

She was on her knees in front of me quicker than I could stop her, her hands on my belt, her nimble fingers unbuckling the clasp and lowering my zipper. With experience that belayed more than the few weeks we had been together, she had my cock out of my boxers and semi-hard. She began stroking in earnest, desperate to please me. I put a hand on her cheek and she looked up at me.

"It's okay Sam. I'm fine. See my smile? I'm fine," I told her.

She nodded, finally believing me. Her hand stayed wrapped firmly around my cock as if it was her anchor to peace and happiness, and once I could hear the clock ticking again she resumed stroking me. I glanced around, suddenly fearful of doing things in the daylight, but I could not stop Sam's desires. She had a way of always getting what she wanted with me. I just didn't have the heart to stop her, and with her small and clammy hand on my cock, I didn't have the willpower. Her skin was always a little cooler than mine, and it felt fantastic wrapped around my member.

Then I felt moist, warm breath and the softness of her lips. Her tongue licking up and down the shaft, the head, and her other hand cupping my testicles inside my boxers. She bobbed with rhythm on my cock, taking most of it into her mouth while one hand stroked me and the other played with me. Sam had a frantic, inexperienced way of moving her tongue while giving me head that I loved. Frankly I was in love with what she did not know, I was in love with watched her learn, with feeling her explore me. And yet she knew so much about my body and my desires already. What I wanted was what she wanted. She knew what to give a cock to make it happy, she just mirrored her own desires.

I had my two hands gripping the counter, anchoring myself to the counter and she desperately pleasured me. She wasn't doing this for foreplay, I could feel her desire for me to cum. We had both decided that we didn't mine the taste of cum and we wanted each other to feel release, so I didn't have to worn her of my impending orgasm anymore if I didn't want to. Sometimes she enjoyed the mystery, the unexpected flood of taste and warmth and sensation. Usually she could tell it was going to happen, though. The cock tenses up right before release, and I had a habit of making little noises that Sam found adorable. My grip intensified as Sam continued to lick, suck, and stroke me, and I groaned as I neared that fine moment.

Sam bobbed faster, stroking the base of my cock and firmly (but gently knowingly) gripped my testicles in her hand. I let out a moan as I felt myself cum, my orgasm built strongly. I felt the force of it, knew it was going to be a lot of cum, and put my hands on her face. She shook her head imperceptibly and latched on with her mouth, and I watched her cheeks work in and out as she sucked me, swallowed me, and didn't let a single drop of my semen leave her lips. After what seemed an eternity she swallowed for good, wiped her lips with the back of her hand, and stood up. I kissed her immediately, tasting myself, sticking my tongue into her mouth and letting our two tongues dance with each other. She grabbed my ass with her free hand and I could feel the hardness of her cock press against me through my layer of denim and her silky tights.

"Your turn?" I breathed into her hair.

"No. We have to clean up, remember? We only have about an hour. That was for you Brett, it was just for you," she said to me, and I hugged her tightly, never wanting to let go.

We cleaned up the house quickly, and it wasn't as bad as I expected. Her house was the sort of messy that was only surface-deep. Blankets and clothes thrown about, dusty furniture, the need for vacuuming. It really only took us about forty-five minutes to put everything in order, and then we were holding each other in her bed. It was ten minutes to four. I had my hand down her pants, more of a comfort than a sexual signal. Her cock was soft and small, and I rolled the spongy skin around in my fingers, stretched her foreskin, pinched the head of her cock between my thumb and forefinger. Sam just stared into my face as I played, and after she became hard I took my hand out of her tights. My fingers smelled strongly of her sex.

"You're a cock tease," Sam told me lustily.

"Among many things. I'm a Sam tease," I said.

She kissed me and rolled on top of me so that we were laying stomach to stomach, cock to cock. I put one hand on her ass, underneath the skirt and over her tights.

"My mother will be home in a few minutes. We should be presentable," she said.

"I wish to fuck you, my lady," I replied.

"That is not being presentable."

"Should we be in the living room when she gets here?" I asked.

Sam shook her head slightly. "No. She's actually quite open and understanding about sex, about couples. She doesn't mind as long as we leave my bedroom door open," she said.

"Oh, so she just wants to be able to hear us make love?" I asked. Sam hit me playfully and then stuck a strand of hair behind one ear. Her eyes were gorgeous. She rolled out of my reach.

"Maybe we should be waiting for her when she gets here? I don't know. I wish I was more relaxed," Sam said.

I heard the telltale noises of the door opening and closing, of rustling in the hallway. Sam squeezed my arm and then bounded off the bed, walking barefoot out of the room and down the hallway. "Mom?"

"Hey sweetie," answered a tired voice. I followed Sam, turning the corner into the hallway and coming face to face with a tall, dark haired woman. Sam's mother was quite gorgeous, and she smiled tiredly when she spotted me. She had shoulder-length brown (almost black) hair, bright green eyes, and smiled a toothy white grin. She wore very little makeup and yet was obviously attractive. I could see a few of Sam's features in her face. Sam's mother was womanly, shapely. Joanna was defined by her hips and her breasts, at first glance.

"It's nice to meet you," she said. Joanna held out a hand. Her fingernails were painted a dark red and there was a bracelet around her wrist.

"You too, ma'am," I said, suddenly nervous. Sam giggled, enjoying the show of me losing my suave sereneness for a moment.

"Just call me Joanna, hun. Please," she said with a smile.

"Uh, then just call me Brett," I returned her smile.

"Very good. So what are you two young people doing on this nice afternoon? Did you enjoy the day off?" she asked us.

Sam shook her head. "No, we had school today remember mom? We had to make up for all the snow days this year," she said.

Joanna frowned. "School on a Saturday. Detestable. Well I hope you are being a good influence on my daughter here, Brett," she said.

I nodded. "Of course. We hardly do anything but study together," I replied. Joanna caught the sarcasm in my voice and laughed.

"What are we having for dinner, mom?" Sam asked.

"Oh I figured we would have lasagna since Alice is coming by. I brought some crusty sourdough bread and mixed up some garlic butter before work this morning. It really won't take long to put everything together," said Joanna.

"Can we help you?" I asked her.

Joanna made a point of looking around the house, and then returning my gaze. "Seems to me you two have already spent some time cleaning up the place. Why don't you just relax? It's not often that my Sam here has a cute boy to pal around with. We still have a couple of hours before Alice will stroll in here, and if I know her she's going to be late," she said, walking into the kitchen. She spotted the two wine bottles and thanked me, touching the Merlot and ignoring the Chardonnay.

I followed Sam back to her room, and as we slid into each others arms on the bed I could hear her mom fussing around in the kitchen. I slid my hand down into Sam's tights, and she slid hers into my jeans.

"She seems nice," I admitted. Sam cave my cock a gentle squeeze.

"Yes. I don't see her as much as I'd like as she's often frazzled or worn out from work. I think you being here and us having dinner with Alice has lifted her spirits some. We should be in for a nice dinner," Sam said. I could hear the relaxation in her voice, the giving up of expectation, the melting of anxiety. I palmed her little cock, stroking it under her tights and panties, and then gave it a squeeze. Sam turned over and pulled my zipper down, freeing my cock.

"Mine again," she said.

"But your mom..." I said, staring out the door into the hallway. It was open about a foot. Sam was already stroking me in earnest, and I was losing my ability to stop her. It felt amazing, as it always did, and I closed my eyes as I let her work my cock. I began to lose all sense of time and placement, and only made enough noise to assure Sam I had not fallen asleep. I didn't know how much time had passed by when I felt a different presence, and I opened my eyes to see Sam's mom Joanna watching me from the hallway. Sam was still turned around, facing my chest and away from the door, stroking my cock and kissing my belly. Joanna locked her eyes with mine for just a moment, smiled, and then moved away from the door.

I had a feeling that dinner, if not the rest of my life, was going to be interesting.