I'm just finishing up lubricating my pedals when Lindsey's RAV4 pulls into my driveway and I see her wave. There's a surge of motion in the back seat, Lance, obviously, even if I can't see him clearly because of the tinting. I can see a bike on the back of the vehicle, and while it's not the standard 'Mom with Kid Special' that I've seen some parents riding around with, it's certainly a step down from her custom-fitted Specialized she used to roll on.
“Hey, guys!” I call out. I haven't had a good ride in a few weeks, and this is going to be fun. “You're a bit early.”
“Hi, Aaron!” Lance calls as Lindsey sets him down, running around the front of her vehicle and rushing over. He stops, and I can see that he wants a hug, but he isn't sure if it’s okay.
“Come here, buddy,” I reassure him, holding my arms open. He laughs and jumps in my arms, knocking me on my ass and making me laugh, and we roll around in the grass.
I see a flash of red in the corner of my eye, and I turn my head. I'm stunned, left breathless seeing Lindsey standing there. She's not dressed for hard biking, that's for sure. Instead, she's wearing a pretty red smock-like top that is kind of tight around her shoulders and breasts before flowing out like a dress to about her mid-thigh, too short to be a real skirt but still mostly covering the shorts she has on underneath. I can just barely see the white hem of her shorts.
“Hey, Aaron,” Lindsey greets me, tucking a stray bit of hair behind her ear. She's letting it flow today, and while she's not wearing any makeup, she’s never needed it. Her lips are looking moist and inviting, even more than I remember.
Fuck, I'm popping wood, and I haven't even said anything. I stay down on the ground, pulling my knees up to allow my cock to stay hidden inside my shorts, and instead, I smile. “How was your morning?”
“Good,” Lindsey says, squatting down and taking a seat next to me on the grass.
Her presence is like a burning heat near my body. “So what ever happened to your old Honda?”
“I got rid of it when Lance was two,” Lindsey says, looking over at her SUV. “I got tired of fighting his car seat in and out of the back, and when he got big enough that he needed to sit up and have a real seat, I just said I’d had enough. So, I traded it in. I didn't get much for it, as you can guess, and I picked that up.”
“And the bike? Don't tell me you totally got rid of that Specialized that you used to ride.”
Lindsey nods sadly, then shrugs. “When I got to Lewis and realized what was going on, I knew it was going to be a long time before I got a chance to ride like that bike deserved again, so I sold it to a reservist who was into bikes. When she offered me six hundred for it, I jumped at it. What about you?”
I'm in control of myself now, at least enough that I'm able to get up without embarrassing myself, and I brush off my shorts, offering Lindsey a hand to get up. When our fingers touch, it feels like old times, and I can see it in her eyes too, but we don't say anything about it. “Take a look. It’s a lot like your old one.”
Lindsey squats down, and I have to stop myself from staring at her legs. They’re luscious, and I want nothing more than to run my hands up them like I used to. My cock gives a warning twinge, and I remind myself that no matter what, I'm going to have to ride where I can't see her ass. Now is definitely not the time for this to be happening. “Looks good. And it looks like it’s helped keep you in tip-top shape.”
The look in Lindsey's eyes does nothing to calm the growing hunger inside me as she gives me a little half-smile. She opens her mouth to say something when Lance speaks up. “Come on, let's ride!”
“So Lance, what’d your Mommy bring for dinner?” I ask as we put up our bikes. “What, is it a surprise?”
He grins and nods. I give Lindsey a glance, and she just gives me a smile. “You two just relax and let me handle the food,” she says.
“Okay. But if you need help, just ask. My kitchen, well, you know where most everything important is.”
Lindsey holds something wrapped in a towel that looks somewhat heavy, and we go inside, where Lance already has his book out for me. We sit on my couch, and I tell him the age-old story of the engine that could while Lindsey puts together plates of whatever, bringing out three bowls of what I take at first to be lasagna. “Didn't know you knew Italian food.”
“Oh, my grandmother would beat you for that!” Lindsey says with a laugh. “It’s Greek.”
“Good to know. What is this, then?”
“Moussaka,” Lindsey says. “Looks a lot like lasagna, but it’s a little different. Enjoy.”
We dig in, and it's delicious, rich, and just a little spicy, but lighter than a lasagna. Lance keeps grinning as he eats, and as soon as his bowl is finished, he doesn’t waste any time. “Can I watch TV now?”