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From: "Rev. Cotton Mather" <RevCottonMather@excite.able.boy.com>
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NNTP-Posting-Date: Thu, 15 Nov 2001 14:53:04 GMT
Subject: {ASSM} rp Hard Promise, Ch. 4-6/14 (mf rom) by Rev. Cotton Mather
Date: Thu, 15 Nov 2001 16:10:04 -0500
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Welcome to the Church of The Right Reverend Cotton Mather.  This story
is the sole property of the author, and may not be copied or 
downloaded for the intent of profit.  Permission is freely given for 
anyone to download or copy for their personal pleasure or use, as 
long as there is no intent to charge money or barter for the privilege
of acquiring this material.

(Copyright 2001, Rev. Cotton Mather)

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HARD PROMISE
Rev. Cotton Mather




- 4 -

After our last home game the whole gang was invited to a party at 
Brittany and Jared Felson's house.  Brittany was a junior on the 
cheerleading squad, and her brother was our star running back.  Since 
everyone was going to be at the game, we agreed that we would go to 
Fabrice's for our usual post-game pizza, and then head over to the 
Felson house.  That would give Brit and Jared time to get home and 
get things set up the way they wanted before everybody showed up.

At the pizza parlor, Melissa was nervous about her parents finding 
out about the party, even though her curfew had been extended for 
this evening.  She ended up calling home from Fabrice's so that her 
mother could hear all of us in the background.  This way, according 
to Melissa, her mom wouldn't think she was with just one boy, but 
was safely enjoying herself in a large group.

We headed over to the party.  Brad and Lindsey were only going to stay
for a little while, and then they were heading off to one of their 
secret hideaways by themselves.  They promised to be back at the party
in plenty of time to give Missy and I a ride home, as usual.  We got 
to the house as two more cars pulled up, and the whole large group of 
us walked in and joined about 20 kids already at the party.  We found 
where the sodas and snacks were put out, and helped ourselves before 
wandering off to find some of our friends.  The radio was playing and 
there were some kids dancing in the family room.  We chatted and 
goofed off with a bunch of people scattered throughout the family 
room, kitchen and living room of the first floor, until somebody 
mentioned that there were more kids in the finished basement.  We 
found the stairway and went down into a large room, lit only by one 
light by the staircase and a few scattered candles.  There was a 
stereo playing softly, and we could see that this was a much quieter 
crowd.  There were a couple of groups of kids, but mostly this was 
the "couples" area.  Once our eyes adjusted, we could detect couples 
scattered on the floor around the perimeter of the room, taking 
advantage of the surroundings.  We stopped to talk with some friends 
by the couch for a little while, but it was plain to both of us that 
we were drawn toward an empty dark corner.

Eventually we found our way over to the corner, taking our sodas with 
us.  We sat on the floor side by side and watched the dynamics of the 
room for a little, occasionally commenting on some surprising pairings
that were being temporarily created by the tides and eddies of the 
party.  I slipped my arm around Missy, pulling her closer to me.  She 
rested her head on my shoulder, her hand resting casually on my knee.

"We're nearly alone again," I said softly to her.  "Are you still 
afraid?"

She turned to look up at me briefly, and then relaxed back against me.
"Not yet," she replied.

I cupped her chin in my hand and gently lifted her head up and leaned 
down to give her a tender kiss.  She reached up with her right hand 
and tangled her fingers in my hair behind my ear as we kissed.

"But then, we're not exactly alone like we were last time," she said 
with a smile.

"True," I agreed.  "But I don't think anybody is paying any attention 
to us anyway," I added.

She looked up at me seriously for a moment.  "And a good thing, too," 
she said as she pulled me down for another kiss.  We both slid to the 
floor, facing each other.  Missy was next to the wall and I had my 
back to the room as we rolled into each other's arms.  Our kisses 
became sweeter and hotter and more demanding as the room, and its 
other occupants, seemed to dwindle away from us.

Once again my hand found the bare skin of her lower back under her 
sweater, a sensuous strip of nakedness that created a delicious heat 
in my solar plexus.  I knew that this was not the place to continue 
our explorations of before, so I contented myself to this small 
pleasure.  As her tongue and mouth became more insistent, I felt her 
reach down to my belt and tug my crotch into hers as she once again 
wrapped her leg around mine.  My rigid cock, standing up in my jeans, 
pressed against her pubic area.  It seemed like I could feel the heat 
and moisture emanating from her crotch, and the sensation went right 
to my bloodstream, making my cock even harder, making my hips rub 
into her.  Her hips started to bump into me, creating an exquisite 
pressure pulsating between us, and I lowered my hand onto the firm 
cheeks of her ass and pulled her into me.  She moaned into my mouth, 
and sucked my tongue into her mouth.  She reached down to the small of
my back with both hands and clenched me tightly to her.

I don't know if it was a conscious decision on her part or not, but 
she had chosen to wear a pair of cotton blend pants with an elastic 
waistband this evening.  The harder, thicker material of my denim 
jeans only had to transmit through two thin layers of cotton to create
a rough and intense rubbing sensation against Missy's virginal slit.  
Almost without volition I slipped my hand under the elastic of her 
pants, and under her silken panties, to caress the bare skin of the 
ass I had admired for so long.  As I ran my hand down onto her butt, 
she broke our kiss and pulled my lips to her throat.  I kissed and 
licked her from her ear to the base of her throat, thrilling to the 
softness of her skin, as she held me even tighter and jerked her hips 
into me.

All of a sudden she tensed, then frantically rubbed her pubic bone 
against my erection, and her breath caught in her throat.  I looked up
at her to see her eyes wide and unseeing, her bottom lip caught
between her teeth, her face tensed up in anticipation.  She rubbed
against me, and then her hips gave me one more hard bump.  The force
of that last jerk caused my erection to hit and glide across her
flowered pussy lips, stimulating her clitoris, and it sent her over
the edge.  She bit down on her lip harder, and she started to let out
a squeak that climbed the register, until it became a soundless
exhalation.  My hand on her smooth ass pressed lower and harder until
I could feel the secretions of her orgasm soaking her panties and
oiling my fingertips.  

As she slowly relaxed and came down from her high, I slipped my hand 
out from her pants and hugged her to me.  She rested her cheek on my 
shoulder for a moment, and then lifted up to kiss me softly and 
sweetly.

"I guess I got a little excited there," she whispered.  "Are you
okay?"

"Oh, yeah," I said softly.  "I'm probably going to walk funny for the 
rest of the night, but other than that I'm okay.  Maybe even more 
than okay."

"Oops," she said sheepishly.  "Am I leaving you in pain?"

"It's okay, kiddo.  Nothing that about an hour in a cold shower won't 
cure."

She reached down between us and rubbed my erection through my jeans 
for just a second.

"I don't think that's helping," I said to her in a bit of a panicky 
voice.

"No?  I'm sorry, Ray, it's just that all this is new to me.  Am I
doing something wrong?"  She had a worried tone in her voice that 
calmed me down, even as her hand kept on running up and down my 
erection.

"No, you're doing something too right, but please stop.  I'm going to 
have an accident in my pants if you don't," I said as I held her hand 
still on my rampant cock.

"I don't want to be the source of your discomfort, Ray.  What would 
you like me to do, considering the surroundings?"

"What I'd like to do is continue what we've started, but somewhere 
else.  Considering the surroundings, though, I guess I'm just going 
to have to put up with blue balls for the time being."  Missy looked 
hurt at that, so I hurriedly added, "I'm just kidding, Missy.  I'm 
really fine...or at least I will be in a minute."

I smiled at her, and gently removed her hand from my crotch, then 
kissed her again.  We sat up against the wall and looked for our
sodas.

"Was that the first time you've cum?" I asked her quietly.

She blushed and lowered her head, and looked up at me shyly through 
her eyelashes.  "Well...not the first time I've cum...but the first 
time I've had help."

"Wow, really?  I'm glad it was me, then, who was here to help you."

"I'm glad, too," she replied.  She had a mischievous smile on her face
that made her look very wise and very sexy.  I wondered what she was 
thinking.

When Lindsey and Brad came back to the party, they were both breezy 
and friendly.  I, on the other hand, was suffering from a bit of 
sexual deprivation, brought on by our session in the basement.  Missy 
grabbed our coats, along with Brad's keys, and told Lindsey that we 
were going to warm up the car for them, and suggested that she and 
Brad take their time.

We got out to the car and Missy started it up and put the heater on 
high, then climbed into the cold back seat with me.  She immediately 
wrapped me up in a hug.

"I'll try to make it up to you sometime, Ray, I promise.  Be patient 
with me, okay?" she whispered.

I put my arms around her and bent down to kiss her.  She pulled my 
arm from around her waist as we kissed, and took my hand in hers.  
She then placed my hand on her soft breast underneath her coat, and 
then dropped her hand onto my thigh.  My cock immediately inflated 
to capacity and began throbbing.  Still kissing me hard, she moved 
her hand up to rub my erection through my pants.  I could feel the 
precum bubble out, moistening my underwear, just at this almost 
incidental contact.  As she stroked my rigid cock, I squeezed her 
breast, feeling her nipple expand and poke through the layers of 
cloth.  Missy unzipped my pants and reached in to pull my fat cock 
out through the opening in my shorts.  It was my turn to groan and 
moan as my temperature climbed and my swollen cock pulsed in her 
tiny hand.  She looked over my shoulder and saw Brad and Lindsey 
walking out of the party, so she lay down on the back seat and rested 
her head on my lap, facing the seat.  She grabbed my coat and pulled 
it down to hide my erection, and brushed her hair across my lap.

"Tell them I'm tired and that you think I might be asleep," she said 
to me quietly, a gleam in her eye.

Brad and Lindsey got into the car, and glanced at us in the back seat.
In answer to their unasked question, I told them that Missy had fallen
asleep, tired from the long week.  They looked doubtful, but turned 
around and started driving off without comment.

Missy, meanwhile, had not relinquished her grip on my turgid cock.  
As soon as she felt the car moving, she resumed stroking me, taking 
care to cover her movements as much as possible.

For my part, I was having considerable trouble keeping quiet during 
her ministrations.  I was breathing through my mouth, trying not to 
scream out loud, as the sensations coursed through me.  She was 
inexperienced but enthusiastic, and I had been on the edge for hours 
at that point, so the end was near.

Suddenly I felt my balls constrict, and I clutched Missy's upper arm 
in warning.  She was prepared, though, and continued to stroke me as 
I started to cum.  She held a wad of tissues in her hand over my cock 
as I spurted, her other hand continuing to milk me.  As the last 
feeble spurts pulsed, she removed the soaking tissues and gazed at 
the drops of sperm spilling down from the head to land on her fingers 
as they were wrapped around me.  She reached out with her tongue and 
licked the drops off, tasting a boy's cum for the first time, then 
lowered her lips around the head of my flushed cock, covering the 
entire head, and sucked hard.

I very nearly lost it right there.  My eyes nearly popped out of my 
head from the sensation her sucking caused, and my hips pressed up at 
her.  She held the pressure of her lips on me for a moment more, then 
pulled my cock slowly out of her mouth and licked her lips as she 
looked up at me with laughing eyes.  She tucked my deflating cock 
back into my pants and relaxed back down into my lap and closed her 
eyes, pretending once again to sleep until we got to her house, where 
she slowly raised up, as if groggy, and said good night to Brad and 
Lindsey.  She kissed me and held me close.

"I didn't want to leave you to suffer from blue balls.  Good night, 
sweet dreams," she whispered to me.

I was astounded.  It was the last thing I expected to happen that 
night.  I was thinking that I would be jacking off half the night 
trying to relieve myself from the party, fantasizing about Melissa, 
instead of enjoying a post-orgasmic laziness in the back of Brad's 
car.

She surprised me that night, and I think that was the first time I 
started to think that I might be in love with her.




HARD PROMISE
Rev. Cotton Mather


- 5 -

"Hey, Doofus!"  

I turned around at hearing the familiar voice.  Jared Felson was 
walking toward me down the hall.  His locker was just down from mine, 
and we often stopped to talk before our first-period class.

"You talking to me, Shit-for-Brains?"  I grinned at him.

"Shit for brains?  Me?  I'm not the one who's got the brown eyes, oh 
observant one."

"Just because the eyes are brown doesn't mean I'm full all the way 
up to there with bullshit, like a certain overconfident running back 
I happen to know," I shot back.

"Hey, not overconfident, just sure of my abilities," he replied. 
"Besides, I'm not the one who was walking out of the party Friday 
looking like I was constipated and in some serious pain," he added 
with a grin.

"Well, that was Friday, and I'm feeling right fine on this Monday 
morning, but thanks for your concern," I said.

"So, Ray, what's up with you and the delectable Miss Melissa?  Brit 
tells me you guys disappeared into the basement for quite awhile, 
and didn't hardly come up for air."

"You know," I said, looking up and down the hall.  I really didn't 
want any eavesdroppers on this conversation.  "I saw your sister 
down there too, but I'm surprised she even noticed us.  She looked 
like she was too busy liplocked with Donny to pay attention to 
anything else."

Jared looked pained when I said that.  I knew he wasn't terribly 
fond of Brittany's boyfriend.

"Ah, shit, you had to go and tell me that, didn't you?  Well, at 
least it was our house, and there were a bunch of us around.  That 
little fuck wasn't gonna try anything much with most of the 
football team there.  I just wish Brit would get tired of his 
skinny ass soon.  I'm tired of his smirks, but I can't kick his 
ass while she's still hanging on to it," he said.

"Maybe she just needs a little of the good lovin' from the Ray 
Machine," I said to him, giving him my best Groucho Marx eyebrow 
shimmy.

"Nope," he said with a smile.  "You're too tall and big for Brittany.
She likes 'em skinny.  Besides, the Ray Machine is, I believe, in 
the process of being wrapped up and stamped with a big 'Hands Off' 
sign by someone else in a letter sweater."

"Does this mean that Melissa is coming off your list now, buddy?" 
I asked.

"No way!" he called back as he walked toward his first-period 
classroom.  "She stays on the list until she finds out what a true 
doofus you really are, and decides to try the obvious quality of a 
star running back instead!"

"Ain't gonna happen, Jared.  She doesn't know any quality running 
backs!"

We waved at each other across the sea of heads starting to fill the 
hallway as we went our separate ways.
	


Later that night I just couldn't resist.  I was tired and cranky from 
doing homework and not being able to talk to Missy.  Fuck it, I said 
to myself, and I called Melissa's house.

"Hello?"  It sounded like her mother had answered.

"Hi, is Melissa there?"

"Who is calling, please?"  She sounded suspicious.

"Um, this is Ray.  I'm in her Algebra class, and I have a question 
about our homework," I said.

There was a pause.  "Just a minute," she said.  I heard the handset 
hit something hard.  There was a loud thunk, then silence.

A small voice came on.  "Hello?"

"Hi, it's me," I said.

"What are you doing?" she fiercely whispered.  I think she had her 
hand covering her mouth and the microphone on the handset.

"I just wanted to talk to you.  I told your mother I had a question 
about Algebra."

"Algebra?" she said louder.  "Just a minute, I'll get my notebook."  
Then, quieter, she whispered, "Don't hang up."

After a couple of minutes I heard another telephone being picked up, 
and Missy's voice called out, "Mom!  Hang up the downstairs phone! 
I've got it up here!"

She waited until she heard the click of the other telephone hanging 
up, then whispered to me, "What, are you nuts?  You know how my 
parents are!"

"I missed you.  I didn't see you all day today, except at lunch.  
Besides, they're going to have to find out about us someday, aren't 
they?"

"Yes, of course, but not TODAY, you goof!  What am I going to do 
with you?" she said, almost to herself.

I lowered my voice into what I hoped was a seductive tone.  "Would 
you be open to some suggestions?" I asked.

"Ray!  You are terrible!"  But I could hear just a trace of a giggle 
in her voice.  Score another point for the Ray Machine.

"Listen," I said quickly.  "A bunch of kids are planning on getting 
some rooms at the Holiday Inn for after the Snowflake Dance in 
December.  Do you think you can talk your folks into letting you stay 
out all night?"

"Oh, God.  I doubt it, I really doubt it.  Besides," she added 
pointedly,  "nobody's even asked me to the dance yet."

"Hey, not my fault," I said hastily.  "Your parents haven't let you 
date yet, and I didn't want to be turned down, you know?"

"Well, they might make an exception for one of the big events of 
the school year.  I'll work on them.  Does this mean that you're 
going to ask me out if I can convince them that I'm old enough to 
go out on a date?"

"You could ask ME out, you know.  It shouldn't always be up to the 
guy anymore."

"With my parents, that'll be the day," she grumbled.

"Okay, if you insist, then I'll do the asking.  Melissa Samuelson, 
light of my life and holder of my heart, will you accompany me to 
the Snowflake Dance?"

There was a pause long enough that I wondered if she was still on 
the line.

"Do you mean that, Ray?" she asked quietly.

"Of course I do, Missy.  I would like you to go to the dance with me.
What did you think?"

"Not that part, dummy.  The other part."

"What?  Light of my life and holder of my heart?"

"Yes, that part.  Do you mean that?"

Suddenly I knew that this was very important to her.  The glib answer 
I had ready died on my lips.

"Yes," I said softly.  "I mean it.  I belong to you until you send 
me away."

There was another long pause.  Then, so softly I barely heard, she 
whispered, "Thank you, Ray.  And I am yours, too.  Good night."

And with that the line went dead as she hung up the phone.

Oh my God, what did I do? I thought to myself.  Suddenly I was 
nervous.  Did I just commit to something?  Did my mouth just make a 
promise that my body wouldn't be able to keep?  Christ in a Bucket, 
I hope I didn't just step into some very deep shit, I thought.



I didn't sleep very well that night.




HARD PROMISE
Rev. Cotton Mather


- 6 -


Two weeks later I was going to eat dinner with Melissa, her little 
sister Megan, and her parents at the Samuelson house.  All week long 
Missy was coaching me about her parents, desperately wanting me to
make a good first impression.  I was pretty desperate, too.  I was
having nightmares about dribbling ice cream down the front of my suit,
or sneezing a big goober out all over the table, or some such other 
calamity during dinner with her parents.  I was nervous as hell about 
it, but no matter how bad it got for me, I knew it was worse for 
Melissa.

She was getting a lot of flak from her parents about bringing a boy 
to dinner, and her sister was incessant in her taunting.  For an 
11-year-old (never a good age anyway, in my book), Megan seemed to be 
particularly annoying and spiteful, and I hadn't even met her yet.

"Missy," I finally said in exasperation, "you're 15 years old.  What 
do they want to do, keep you in a convent until you're 21?"

"Probably," she muttered.  We were in the library, having gotten 
passes out of our respective study halls so we could be together for 
a little while.  "But until I can talk some sense into their thick 
heads, we've got to do it this way.  So lighten up, Raymond."

We had only been seeing each other for a couple of months, but I knew 
when she called me Raymond, that I had better pay attention.  Who 
says a 16-year-old hormonally charged jock couldn't learn anything?

"Remember.  With my dad, a firm handshake is necessary, but don't 
squeeze so hard you crush his fingers.  Look him in the eye when 
you're shaking his hand, but not in a challenging way.  Don't disagree
with him if he says something you think is wrong; just keep your mouth
shut.  I know it isn't right, but just do it, for my sake, okay?"  She
looked at me with those big blue eyes, her head down so she was 
looking askance through her eyelashes.  Who could resist?

"Okay, I've got it.  Meek and mild, that's me.  Agreeable right down 
to my shoes."

"And don't let Megan get on your nerves.  She will try, you know."

"Yeah, I know, but really, how much trouble can an 11-year-old really 
be?"

"Hoo, boy, do you have a lot to learn," she said.
	



So there I was that Friday night, driving in my dad's car over to 
Melissa's house for dinner with her family.  I had a fresh haircut, I 
was showered and shaved, and so nervous I thought I'd sweat right 
through my suit coat.  I kept on wiping my sweaty palms on my pants, 
vainly trying to will myself to calm down.  I managed to park in her 
driveway without knocking down any trees, or driving over any rose 
bushes, which, considering my mental state, was an accomplishment.  I 
knocked on the door, half hoping they had forgotten about this and had
gone out somewhere.  I was relieved when the door opened and Missy was
there.  She was dressed in a simple black sweater with gray pants.  
There was a fine gold chain with a small pearl pendant around her
neck.  She had curled her blonde hair so that it lay on her shoulders,
soft and lustrous.  She had never looked lovelier.

"Pow," I said, gazing at her in awe.

She blushed, shook her head, and dragged me into the house by my arm.
She looked around quickly, then reached up and gave me a quick peck 
on the lips, careful not to smudge her lipstick.

"Take it easy, Ray.  You look like you're walking to your own
execution.  It's only dinner," she said with a bit of a smirk.

She led me into the living room.  Her father stood up and strode over 
to us.

"Daddy, I would like you to meet Ray Kennedy.  Ray, this is my
father."

"Pleased to meet you, Mr. Samuelson," I said as I held out my hand.

"Ray," he acknowledged, as he grasped my hand and shook it.  'Melissa 
has been telling us about you."

"Only the good parts, I hope," I said.  I glanced at Missy, but she 
seemed fairly calm, not really nervous at all.  Maybe, I thought,
things will go okay after all.

"Sit down for a moment, Ray," said Mr. Samuelson.  "Dinner will be
ready in a few minutes.  Melissa, would you like to offer your guest
something to drink?"

She jumped slightly, caught by surprise, and asked what I would like.

"Uh, just water is fine with me, thanks," I said.

"I'll take a glass also, please, Melissa," said her father.  He turned
his attention back to me.  "So, Melissa tells me you are in the 11th 
grade."

For the next half hour he grilled me on school, my grades, football
and basketball and baseball, my college choices, my career choices,
and a dozen other subjects.  About the only thing he didn't ask me was
my hat size.  By the time he was done, I felt like I had been wrung
out and hung up to dry.  Missy's mother dropped it briefly to be
introduced, and then she hustled back toward the kitchen to finish
preparing dinner.  Missy sat by me on the couch when she was not
needed in the kitchen, which probably tempered her dad's questioning
somewhat.  I was grateful for her presence.  There was still no sign
of her sister Megan.

Finally, Mrs. Samuelson announced that dinner was ready to be served.
We all stood up, and Mrs. Samuelson ushered us out of the living room 
and into their dining room.  There were only four places set at the 
table.

"Oh, by the way," said Mrs. Samuelson, "Megan is eating dinner at
Ivy's house tonight.  She'll be home at about 7:30."

We sat down, and Mr. Samuelson said grace, and we started passing food
around the table.  The conversation became lighter as we ate, now that
he ice had been broken, and I started to relax a little.  Missy gave
me a quick secret smile as she passed the vegetables.

Mrs. Samuelson was a good cook, and I was effusive in my compliments.
She tried to pass it all off as a normal Friday ritual for them, but I
thought she looked pleased with my comments.  Mr. Samuelson looked on,
all seriousness, but I think he was a bit amused.  The good news, in
my opinion, is that I made it through dinner without sneezing out a
big goober all over the table.  I took it as a small victory over my 
nightmares.

After dinner we wandered into the family room for coffee and dessert.
I heard the front door open and a loud voice called out, "I'm home!" 
The door slammed, and we heard the sound of feet pounding up the
stairs.

Mrs. Samuelson got up and went to the bottom of the stairs and called 
up, "Hi, dear.  Come down and meet Melissa's friend from school."

The feet came pounding back down the stairs, and a small, thin and 
gangly dark-haired girl walked into the family room.

Mrs. Samuelson introduced us.  "Megan, this is Ray.  Ray, meet 
Melissa's younger sister, Megan."

I said hello to her, but she just stared at me without saying
anything.

"Megan?  What do you say?" asked Mrs. Samuelson.

"Did you kiss her yet?" Megan asked sarcastically.

"Excuse me?" I said.

"I said, did you kiss her yet?" she repeated.  "Or should I use
smaller words for you?  You don't look all that bright."

"Megan, you are such a brat!" cried Melissa.

"Oh, did I hit home?" said Megan.  She sashayed over to sit on the
floor by the fireplace.  "Or are you just too much of a Little Miss
Perfect to sully your lips with someone else's germs?"

"Mother!" cried Melissa.  "Can't you do something with her?"

"Megan, you must be nice to Melissa and her friend," chided Mrs. 
Samuelson.

"Oh, all right, I'll be nice," she sulked.  "I always have to be nice 
'cause Missy is always so perfect.  'Why can't you be like Missy?'  
I don't WANT to be like Missy.  I am myself.  I'll NEVER be like 
Missy."  She looked around the room, daring anybody to disagree with 
her.  "So, Ray, what do you do?  You look like a jock.  What do you 
play?"

"Ummm...well, I was on the varsity football team, and I'm on the 
basketball team, and then in the spring I'll probably play
baseball..."

"I play soccer," Megan interrupted.  "None of those other sports 
interest me.  Have you ever played soccer?"

"Well," I said hesitantly, "I played for a couple of years, but I 
wasn't real good at a game I couldn't pick up the ball in, so I 
dropped it."

"Figures," she muttered.  "Just another brainless jock who doesn't 
understand a game he can't play."

I turned to Melissa.  "What a sweet sister," I said to her.  "I think 
I know now why there are only two kids in this family."

Mrs. Samuelson choked on her strawberry shortcake, and Mr. Samuelson 
nearly spat out a mouthful of coffee.  Melissa looked as if I had 
struck her.

Oh shit, I thought to myself.  I've really cooked my goose now.  I was
just about to apologize when Mr. Samuelson burst out laughing.

"By Christ, that's a great comeback, Ray," he said, still chuckling.  
"Megan, I don't think he is quite as brainless as you think he is.
And he's right, you have been a brat.  It's past time you apologized
to Ray and to Melissa for your behavior."

Megan looked sullen.  Finally she said, "Okay.  You're right.  I 
apologize.  I'm sorry you're a brainless jock."  She stood and walked 
out of the room and up the stairs.  We heard a door slam.

Mrs. Samuelson turned to me and said, "I am so sorry for that, Ray.  
Megan, I'm afraid, is quite headstrong.  I'll go talk to her."

"No, no, please," I said.  "Don't go up there and make matters worse 
on my account.  I was out of line, and I apologize to both of you, Mr.
and Mrs. Samuelson, and I will be happy to personally apologize to 
Megan, too."

"Sit down, Ray, and stop talking nonsense," said Mr. Samuelson.  
"Megan deserved it, and she's going to have to accept the consequences
of letting her mouth run.  Linda will handle her, and I will have a 
little chat with her, but you have nothing to apologize to her for.  
Now, tell me about this Snowflake Dance that Melissa has been bending 
our ears about."



	
An hour later, I felt like I had been through a negotiating session
with Yasser Arafat.  I was exhausted from the experience of dinner
with the Samuelsons, but by the end of the evening both Missy and I
felt very good about how it all went.  Her parents had accepted me,
and Missy could stay out until 2:00 AM the night of the Snowflake
Dance.  It wasn't perfect, but it was a lot more than Missy ever
expected her father to agree to.  I said good night to her folks, and
she walked me to her front door.  We stepped through, and she softly
closed the door behind her, then wrapped her arms around my neck and
stretched up to give me a soft, sensuous kiss.  I hugged her tight to
me, glad the ordeal was over, and playfully grabbed her earlobe
between my teeth.

"Careful," she whispered huskily.  "Don't start something you won't be
able to finish tonight."  She rubbed her hips against me then, and 
kissed me hard, then let go and turned to go back in.  She turned with
her hand on the doorknob and said, "Way to go tonight, Ray.  You were 
a star."

"Just trying to come through for my Missy girl," I said, the very 
picture of modesty.

"Well, you did come through, but I think it was for both of us," she 
said with a smile.  "Tomorrow at Fabrice's?"

A grin traced itself across my face.  "Tomorrow it is," I said.


(Continued in Chapter 7)

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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