Designated Driver - Sex Stories

Designated Driver

My phone rang at about 12:30am. It was my mom’s friend Kristine. “Hey Pete, it’s Kristine. Can you come pick up your mom and I? She was supposed to be our DD but ended up getting drunk with the rest of us! I’ll give you $20!” Kristine kind of yelled into the phone over the noisy bar in the background. I was home from college for the weekend and was looking forward to doing a little relaxing after a tough week of classes and exams. I decided to not go out with my friends and stay home so as luck would have it, I was home alone and completely sober when Kristine had called. This was a new thing. My mom had divorced my father during my junior year of high school. It was nothing dramatic but things just were not working out so they decided to split. While I was still living at home, she rarely went out and seemed to just be happier around the house with the constant fights and tension that were always present before the divorce. After I left for college, she reconnected with some friends in the area and got her social life back. I pulled into the parking lot about twenty minutes after the phone call and texted my mom: Hey, I’m here. Minutes later, she and Kristine stumbled out of the bar. I got out and opened the passenger side doors for them. Kristine climbed in the front and my mom got in the back and kind of laid down across the seat. “Pete, you have to take me home right now. I don’t feel well at all,” my mom slurred from the back seat. “You can drop off Kristine after, ...

... but I have to be home A-S-A-P!” I’d never seen my mom this drunk so I glanced at Kristine. “Do you mind?” “No, not at all - she got into some kind of ‘who can take more shots’ with one of the other ladies. Believe it or not - she won! Ha!” Kristine replied. “Alright, mom, just hang in there. I’ll take you home right now.” I sped through our little town, hoping my mom would not get sick in the back seat. I got home in record time and helped my mom out of the back seat and into the house. After making sure she was fine, I went back out to the car and found Kristine looking through my center console. “And what do we have here?” She said in a teasing voice, while holding up a glass pipe. She sniffed the end and closed her eyes - like she was trying to place the scent. Shit, I’m busted. I had packed it shortly before leaving to pick them up and decided it would be best to wait until after I picked them up to smoke a little weed. Kristine continues, “You know, I haven’t had any of this since I was in college myself. My husband still smokes every once and a while. He doesn't think I know but remember this, Pete - women know everything.” With that she started cracking up laughing. She continued rummaging around the console and found a lighter. “You mind?” “Uh, no, of course not. Be my guest,” I replied as I pulled out of the driveway. Over the next few minutes, nothing was said as Kristine lit and hit the pipe a few times, coughed every time she inhaled the pot. She passed it to me a ...