Thank You, Janie

"Sounds good to me," Janie sighed.

None of them bothered to shower. Jason went into the bathroom, taking an extra few minutes to let the girls change.

As they headed out to the parking lot, Janie threw him her keys. "You're driving."

"Why?"

"Because we really need a margarita, and you're underage."

"I could be drinking tonight."

"We need a designated driver and I will rat you out in a heartbeat," Melissa teased.

They got a private room in the back of the restaurant with a score of their friends.

"So how did your ring go?" Janie asked, sliding into the seat next to Jason.

"It was okay," he replied. "I just wish they'd switch us out half way through the day. These two day tournaments are killing me."

The others at the table just smiled. He was eighteen years old and didn't know the first thing about the sore knees and shoulders and back and neck that awaited him when he was forty.

There were a couple of families, and all of them had known one another for a couple of years. The adults had always watched out for Jason, knowing that he was a good kid who could have had the world at his feet if his family had just been a little bit better off.

Everyone was famished; none of the people who spent the day judging got much more than a hot dog or a bag of chips throughout the day. The conversation was subdued, but friendly.

Jason was seated between Mike and Janie. He was a big, jovial guy who liked to give Jason a hard time as the big brother he never had. Or wanted. His wife and ten year-old son were staples at the taekwondo school, and they were red belts on the verge of testing for their black belts.

"So after this we're going out to the Gold Club, right?" Mike elbowed him in the side between the salad and entrée.

"Only if you're paying," Jason shot back with a smile.

"Shit, as long as you mention medical supplies, I can write it off as a business expense," his friend returned.

Mike's wife rolled her eyes, accustomed to the loud-mouthed antics of her husband. He had always been a lot of bluster, especially when it would get a rise out of those around him. Still, he was as loyal a friend as anyone could ask, and generous to a fault.

"Jason doesn't need to go to the Gold Club; he's got a room full of girls waiting for him at the hotel!" Janie interjected loudly, pretty much to the surprise of everyone at the table. She latched on to Jason's arm, and her eyes were almost glazed over, partly from having spent all day at a taekwondo tournament, and partly from the pair of margaritas she had already downed.

"We should all be so lucky," Mike winked at his friend, and let the matter drop, lest Janie embarrass herself further.

Dinner seemed to sober her up a little, and they drove back to the hotel right afterwards.

The four of them changed, plugged in their cell phones and then crashed.

Janie was the first to go; she was asleep before Jason was done in the bathroom changing and brushing his teeth. He slipped into the bed as the other girls did their business. The lights went out and he rolled over on his side, his back to the woman of his dreams.

When he woke the next morning, Janie's head rested on his shoulder, her arm draped around his waist.

Her breath felt warm against his neck. Her breasts were mashed against his shoulder.

It took just a fraction of a second for Jason to realise that he never wanted to move again.

*********************

Jason didn't see the foot that connected with his solar plexus. He was occupied with the flurry of punches from his opponent, a student from Jacksonville who was every bit his equal in the sparring ring.

"Point!" one of the judges yelled, the two young men separating and returning to the marks taped on the floor.

"Score!" the head judge called as he checked with the other two judges. Each of them held a long dowel rod with a red flag attached to one end and a white flag to the other. When called upon, they indicated which contestant scored by showing the flag and holding up one, two or three fingers indicating the score.

A kick or punch to the chest was one point. A jump kick to the chest was two points, and a jump kick to the head was three points. Blows landing below the belt or to the back, or punches to the head would result in a warning. Two warnings meant a one point penalty. Three warnings brought forfeiture of the match.

"One point red, one point red, no-see. Score: one point red!"

Jason rested his hands on his knees, taking a couple of deep breaths. The other boy had very nearly knocked the wind out of him. They were about the same age, and had a friendly ongoing rivalry since they were green belts.

Often when one finished first in forms or sparring, the other finished second. Jason already had the first place forms trophy and wasn't about to "settle" for second in sparring this time.

"The score is now three points red, three points white. Ready?" the head judge called, giving both fighters about ten seconds to set themselves. If Jason couldn't shake off the kick to his gut, he would have to forfeit.

He nodded, set his feet and raised his arms.

"Go!"

As soon as the word was out of the judge's mouth, Jason lunged forward, his foot snapped off the floor and straight into his opponent's charging face, his footpad connecting with the other's headgear.

"Point!" the three judges shouted in unison.

"Score!"

Jason smiled as much as his mouthpiece would allow.

"Two points white, two points white, two points white. Score: two points white!"

Both young men bowed to one another, and then shook hands. The head judge moved between them, retrieved the red cloth marker from the other boy's belt and raised Jason's gloved hand. "Five points white, three points red. Winner: white!"

Those watching from the bleachers cheered, none of them louder than Janie Collins.

As with day before, the white belts went first with the black belts competing later. The women's brackets were nearly done, as were some of the men's brackets. Janie finished third in forms and didn't place in sparring. Melissa took third in forms, second in sparring. Sharon was third in forms, and was just beginning the sparring part of her competition.

His semi-final win put Jason in the final sparring match for first degree black belt division for men aged eighteen to twenty-five.

The other semi-final match was getting ready to start. He looked over at Janie, Mike and Janet, who all waved. Mike flashed him a thumbs-up, but it was Janie's wink that made his heart race.

Jason forced himself to return his attention to the sparring match so he could scout out his potential opponents.

Both were taller than he, meaning their arms and legs had a greater reach than his. But neither moved as quickly, and it seemed that both were content to range all over the ring, trying to score with their kicks, rather than their hands.

Plus, he had some extra time to rest.

The winner of the match was a boy named Aaron Byrd, whom Jason knew fairly well. Like a lot of the other regular tournament competitors, they met a handful of times a year and respected each other as fair opponents.

Since Aaron had just finished a sparring match, the head judge declared a five minute rest period. Mike came up to him for what was sure to be either a smart ass remark or some actual constructive coaching.

"Your arms are twice the speed of his, and he telegraphs his kicks from a mile away. Move in close and you can jam his knee before he can get a kick off. Then block like hell until you can land a hit." Mike leaned in so that no one else could hear him. "And while you were sparring, he spent all that time staring at Janie's ass and trying to look down her jacket at her tits."

Then he patted Jason on the shoulder and walked away, clearly knowing which buttons to push.

Jason scored the requisite five points in two moves: three points with a jump kick to Aaron's face, and two points with a roundhouse kick that connected with the back of the other boy's head.

He beamed with pride as he was presented with his two first place trophies, which garnered a visit from Master Robertson, the highest ranking black belt in the region.

"This puts you in the top twenty for your age bracket. If we can get you to a few more tournaments between now and May, you'll qualify for nationals." Master Robertson was as friendly as he was deadly. Short and unassuming, he had started studying taekowondo when he was stationed in Korea. A retired Command Sergeant Major, Master Robertson opened up several branch of taekwondo schools in the central Florida area after he left the Army. He was a shrewd businessman, and was widely respected within the martial arts community. "We need someone in the Southeast Region to take the title back from that kid in Indianapolis."

Jason smiled nervously. "I will see what I can do, Master."

Master Robertson leaned in and patted him on the shoulder. "If money is the only reason you can't got to nationals, let me know. I'm sure we can find a scholarship for you."

"Thank you, Master Robertson."

"Now I'm going to have to see if I can get you some better competition for the Lake Mary tournament next month." Master Robertson laughed and went on to congratulate the next round of winners.

"We're so proud of you!" Janie ran up and gave him a big hug.

Mike reached out to shake his hand, and others from their school came by to give him a high five or a hug.

It was late afternoon on Sunday by the time Sharon finished sparring. The van was already packed with things and they all changed in the gym locker rooms. They skipped the closing formalities of the tournament, loaded up their trophies and got back on the road, still facing a three hour drive home.

Jason fell asleep in one of the captain's chairs, exhausted from the tournament.

*********************

When he awoke, it was dark. He was still sitting upright in the second row captain's chair. The van wasn't moving.

He blinked back the haze, looking around. It took him a moment to focus in the darkness. There were no streetlights and the van's power was off. The windows were cracked, letting some fresh air circulate. Neither Sharon nor Melissa were around. Janie must have dropped them off earlier.

Janie sat in the chair next to him, leaning back against the headrest. Her eyes were closed. Her breathing regular.

She looked so beautiful.

He reached over and gently caressed her cheek. She smiled in her sleep and stirred.

Jason jumped slightly when she turned her head and kissed his hand. She suckled on his finger, making his heart race. His cock hardened.

Trembling, he withdrew his hand when Janie started to nibble down to his wrist.

"Hi," she whispered.

He lost himself in her eyes. Even in the darkness, from the moonlight that shone through the tinted windows, Jason could see her eyes. He had stared into their hazel depths before.

But never like this.

Never had she stared back at him with the same kind of dough-eyed wonder that seemed to be his usual disposition of late.

"Hi," he managed to return, once the lump in his throat passed.

Neither moved. Neither spoke.

Maybe they were both afraid to break the spell.

Her eyes never left his, but she slowly moved. Jason shifted in his seat as she raised the armrests to the captain's chairs.

His eyes widened as she leaned in to kiss him. Her lips were so soft. Her body pressed against his.

Janie settled on his lap as she nuzzled up against him. His cock felt like it was going to burst as her rear end settled against it.

"What—"

"Shhhhhh," she silenced him with a kiss. "We'll talk later. Let me do this. . . . Please, Jason . . ."

Any reply that was forming in his mind was gone the second she took his hand in hers and pressed it against her breast.

The part of his brain that eschewed reason took over. He pressed his lips against hers. Their tongues intertwined.

Jason squeezed the soft, supple breast in his hand through her thin t-shirt. The nipple hardened at his touch. He pinched it through her sports bra, drawing a delighted squeal.

He leaned in again to kiss her, but was surprised when she pulled away.

She got down on her knees on the floor of the minivan. Janie's hands tugged at elastic waist on his sweatpants. Jason put up no resistance as she hungrily lifted his hips off the seat just enough to pull this pants and boxers down.

His cock stuck straight up in the air.

Her hand wrapped around him and he let out a feral moan.

"Do you like that?" Janie whispered. "Do you like me tugging on your cock?"

His reply was interrupted when her mouth settled around the head, her lips forming a vacuum-like seal around his tumescent sex.

Jason's hand clenched until his knuckles turned white. He had to fight the urge to grab Janie by the hair push her further down on his lap.

Instead, unconsciously thrust his hips up into her mouth.

He felt her tongue swirling around his head. Along the soft underside.

"Janie," he moaned. "Oh, god, please . . . please don't . . . don't stop!"

"Mmmmmmm," she purred, her lips still wrapped around Jason's cock. He heard her take a deep breath, then let out a low, throaty moan as she took his entire length down her throat.

She choked a little bit as she giggled. Jason felt his toes start to tingle as his friend—and now lover—continued her oral ministrations.

His fingers dug into her shoulders and she backed off.

Again and again, she used her mouth to keep his rock-hard cock on the edge of orgasm, stringing him along.

Each time he thought his cock would burst in her mouth, she let him down, then slowly built him back up.

Never once did her hands touch his shaft, balls or head.

Her hair hung down over her face, her curls brushing his thighs.

In the darkness, his eyes lost focus. Jason sank back into the chair, hovering between the pleasure of Janie's tongue making love to him and the torture of not being able to cum in her mouth.

On and on she went. Jason lost track of time.

She never stopped moving. Her lips. Her tongue. Up and down.

Again and again.

Once more, she took his entire cock in her mouth, her lips and nose pressing into his pubic hair.

Instinctively, he knew she was about to finish him off.

Janie picked up her pace, but this time did not relent. Her head bobbed up and down in his lap.

Faster.

Harder.

Faster.

"I'm . . . I'm . . . going to . . ."

His voice trailed off when she once again sealed her lips around the head of his cock. He felt her tongue press against the slit on the end of his cock.

Jason couldn't help himself and bucked his hips up as he felt his balls constrict.

Janie sucked him in as the head of his cock exploded in her mouth.

He gasped and rode out the orgasm, which seemed to never end.

The mouth around his cock kept moving, bringing him down slowly.

She swallowed with every pulse until there was no more to be had.

When his cock went slack, Janie gave his head one more nibble and she pulled back.

Jason's eyes were glazed over with pleasure. She sat back and looked up at him expectantly.

He opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out.

It took him several minutes to recover. Janie took her seat next to him, her eyes never leaving his.

Her nipples still stuck out under her t-shirt.

After several long moments, Jason's heart rate came down. His breathing became regular.

Still he sat in the chair, his sweatpants around his ankles, his cock laying flaccid between his legs.

"First time?" Janie whispered.

He could only nod.

"Was I good?"

The second nod was a little more enthusiastic.

"Want me to do it again?"

Jason's cock twitched, making Janie giggle like girl half her age.

"Maybe next time, tiger," she snickered. Part of Jason was disappointed that he was going to get "only" one blowjob that night. Part of Jason was excited that she was promising him another.

Janie got up out the captains chair and climbed into the driver's seat. Jason's eyes never left her firm, round rear end. It was perfect.

She reached for the push-start, the engine and dashboard springing to life. Jason pulled his boxers and pants up, and climbed into the passenger's side front seat.

Neither spoke as Janie shifted into drive. Jason looked around and tried to figure out where they were.

Many years before, at the end of the housing bubble, there were scores of unfinished housing and retail developments in the area when the market crashed. Some developers were in the middle of projects, but when credit became hard to obtain, they ran out of cash. So projects were halted, sometimes right in the middle of construction.

Even eight years later, some of the developments remained as they were on the day the crews walked off the job. It took him a couple of minutes, but Jason realised they were just a few miles from his house.

They had finished the streets, curbs and drains, but no one was paying the bill for the streetlights, and no houses had been started. The grass was high, but someone (probably the city) was maintaining the streets, at least to the point that they were drivable.

All but forgotten, in that moment, the little sidestreet tucked on the backside of a hill was Jason and Janie's Lover's Lane.

Down past a stop sign and around a corner was a half-completed big box store of some kind; at one time Jason heard it was supposed to be a Target or Home Depot or something like that, but all that had been completed was the foundation, four cinderblock walls and the rusting metal frame for a roof.

Turning on to one of the main roads, Janie reached over and took his hand.

Their fingers intertwined for the remainder of the drive.

With a heavy sigh, she pulled into the driveway of his house behind his beat-up old Toyota Corolla. The inside lights were out. His parents were probably still awake, but watching TV in the back bedroom. It was past his little sister's bedtime.

"Janie . . . what . . ."

"Not now," she whispered. "We'll talk about it later. Are you going to the early class on Tuesday?"

"Yes."

"Good, the kids will be at their dad's all week. We'll talk then."

"Okay." His head was swimming. With confusion. With desire. With love.

There was so much he wanted to say. So many things he wanted to ask. But he didn't know where to start.

His duffel, sleeping bag and sparring bag were in the space between the back seats. He reached back for them and opened the door.

Turning once again, his eyes caught Janie's. She smiled tenderly.

He started to say something, but the words failed him.

"Say, 'Thank you, Janie'."

"Thank you, Janie."

She winked. "You're welcome, sweetheart."

Jason got out of the minivan and stood dumbly in the driveway as she backed out into the street and drove off.

*********************

The next two days were torture on him. He went to class and work at the university. The adult taekwondo class on Monday night was late, and Janie wasn't in it.

Jason and the others who attended the tournament were recognised for their participation and lauded for placing in the competition.

When he pulled into the parking lot for the Tuesday night class, his heart skipped a beat when he saw Janie's minivan. He pulled in the space next to hers. The sparring class seemed to drag on forever.

He spent most of it getting pounded by Sharon and Mark, another first degree who was almost ready to test for his second degree black belt.

Janie didn't seem like she was ignoring him, but nor did she go out of her way to be friendly, which was something of a disappointment.