Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.

A Rose By Another Name - Part 4 By Jeremy Spencer
   True to her word, Heather called me at home the evening after my choir
concert and the two of us made plans to attend her rock concert together.
It was a band I'd not heard of, but according to Heather they were a local
group and had made it pretty big.
   "I can't believe you haven't heard of them," she said in amazement.
   "What kind of band are they again?" I asked.
   "I told you.  Hardcore punk with some rap thrown in."
   "And there are enough people in Omaha to fill the Civic Center just to
see them play?" I questioned.
   "They're really popular right now and besides, I said they're local. 
Dan, you're not thinking of backing out on me, are you?" Heather accused.
   "No.  A promise is a promise," I said, throwing my arms in the air in
surrender.
   "Good."
   "Besides, you promised me a good time."
   "And I always deliver," she laughed.  We chatted for a few minutes but
Heather was almost late for work and had to hurry off.
   The next week went by in a rush and before I knew it the day of the
concert had arrived.  Heather picked me up at my apartment and we drove the
few miles into downtown Omaha, managing to find a parking place in a small
lot up the hill from the Civic Center.
   "This is great!" Heather exclaimed as we hurried down the street to the
venue.  "Parking is always insane for concerts here," she said, once again
proclaiming our good fortune.
   "What kind of a crowd are they expecting?" I wondered out loud as we
passed a policeman on horseback sitting on the edge of the curb.
   "Oh, don't worry about that," Heather answered.  "He's just there to
keep us off the streets during rush hour."
   The two of us showed our tickets and had our hands stamped and before I
knew it we were inside the arena.  I was surprised to find out that the
venue had no seats on the main floor.
   "Isn't that cool?" laughed Heather.  "We can get as close as we want!"
   "Should I have brought earplugs with me?" I teased, remembering that
Heather had asked me the same question about my concert.
   "Nope," she said, reaching into her purse.  "I brought two pairs with me
tonight."
   "Why?" I asked, looking at her in confusion.
   "Because they're loud, silly!" she laughed, handing me the pair of soft
foam earplugs.  "And because we're going to be right up front."
   "Are you sure about this?" I asked as I allowed myself to be pulled
toward the front of the auditorium, pushing past clumps of teens, seemingly
all of them dressed completely in black.  I had never in my life seen as
much body piercing and I made a mental note to ask Heather if she had any
extra bits of metal pounded through her skin.
   "Of course I'm sure," Heather answered.  She finally settled on a spot
fifteen or twenty feet from the stage and promptly sat on the ground.
   "Marking our territory?" I asked.
   "No, just resting," Heather answered.  "Once the show starts we'll be a
lot closer, but staying back for right now keeps us from getting trampled."
   "Trampled?" I asked, wondering if I should be watching my back instead
of paying attention to the stage.
   "It's happened before," Heather shrugged.
   "To you?"
   "Yeah," she answered.  "But it was no big deal."
   "No big deal?  You got trampled!  You have any scars?"
   "Just one, but I can't show it to you here."
   "Why not?" I asked, before I realized the answer.  Heather just grinned.
   "Daniel!  It's private," she whispered loudly, smiling at my discomfort.
"But if you ask nicely I'll show it to you later."
   "Really?" I asked, my mind running wild at the possibilities.  To my
horror I felt my cock swelling to attention as I imagined Heather
undressing to show me her scar.  Why she would need to be completely naked
was beyond me, but it was a fantasy so I let the inconsistency slide. 
Unfortunately the erection in my jeans was anything but a fantasy and as
Heather pulled me to my feet I saw her eyes flick over the bulge.
   Fortunately there was little time for Heather to say anything as we
found ourselves pressed forward in the crush of the crowd.
   "Hold on!" she shouted over her shoulder as the band took the stage to
the thunderous roar of the crowd.  I grabbed at her offered hand, finally
managing to catch hold of two fingers.  I pulled myself close behind
Heather who was already jumping up and down to the rhythmic drumming of the
first song.
   Heather grinned over her shoulder at me, catching my wrists and placing
my hands on her hips.  Heather was wearing a low-slung pair of jeans and a
thin white shirt that threatened to give way with each wobble of her tits.
Heather seemed not to notice, although as I gripped at her smooth flesh,
pulling her body tight against mine she must have felt the result of the
distraction.
   I'm sure my face was crimson with embarrassment but Heather allayed any
fears I might have had as she ground her ass against my erection.  I felt
my pole slip between her firm butt cheeks as our bodies molded to one
another.  For the next ninety minutes the two of us may as well have been
one body, we were that close.
   At one point the stage went dark and I realized the band had left for
the obligatory encore break.  Heather took the opportunity to grab my
hands, which had not strayed from her midsection.  She pulled me upward and
I gasped as I suddenly found myself with a handful of soft tit.  Even
through the shirt I could feel Heather was wearing no bra and the hard
pebbles of her nipples pressed hotly into my palms.
   I leaned forward and - even over the chanting of the crowd - I could
hear Heather sigh lightly as I fondled her breasts.  Once she was sure my
hands were not straying from their current positions she released my
wrists. One of her hands reached between our bodies to stroke the shaft of
my cock through my jeans.
   As she was doing this, the lights went on and the band came back onstage
for one or two more songs.  I tried to pull away, noticing the stares of
some other concertgoers but Heather would have none of it.  Her free hand
moved quickly to my hands, pressing me more firmly against her breasts and
held me there during the encore.
   "So what did you think Daniel?" Heather asked innocently as we walked
back to her car.  She grinned at me knowingly, leering at the front of my
jeans, thankfully now showing no signs of my previous arousal.  It had
taken a full ten minutes alone in a bathroom stall for me to will my
erection to go soft, but I was now able to walk around in public without
drawing undue attention.
   "About what?" I asked distractedly.  Heather laughed and reached back to
pinch one of my butt cheeks.
   "The band silly.  I know what you think of the rest of it." She grinned
as I blushed although in the dark I'm sure she couldn't see my features
turn crimson.
   "Oh...  they were fine, I guess."
   "That's it?  Fine?  This was one of the best concerts I've ever been
to!" Heather exclaimed.
   "Me too," I laughed.
   "What?  I thought you didn't really care for the band."
   "Honestly?  I didn't." They were okay, but the rest of the concert..." I
grinned, taking Heather's hand and holding tight.  "The rest of the concert
was superb."
   We walked back to the car in silence.  After the short drive back to
campus I invited Heather into my place for a drink, but she begged off,
saying she had to study for finals.  We made tentative plans to get
together before the holidays and with one last kiss goodnight the evening
was over.
   *****
   "So, what's up?" Heather asked a couple days later.
   "Not much," I sighed.  "All of this end of semester stuff is getting to
me though!  I always thought it was horrible having tons of finals so close
to Christmas, but it's ten times as bad now that I have to grade everyone's
term papers.  And all of my work is in addition to getting my own projects
completed." I groaned as I realized I still had piles of work to do and not
too many more hours of office time to get it finished.  "It sucks."
   "Oh, you poor baby," Heather cooed.  "How can I make it all better?"
   "You could cook for me," I suggested hopefully.
   "That's right!" Heather exclaimed.  "I'd almost forgotten that I owe you
a meal!  What do you want?"
   "Whatever's fine," I answered.  "I'm easy."
   "Guys!" Heather laughed.  "You should all just make up your minds for
once...  all of you!"
   "What do you mean?" I asked.
   "You're always so wishy-washy about everything!"
   "We are not."
   "Are too!  Nothing is every all that important to you.  It doesn't
really matter to you what we do, or what we eat."
   "That's not true," I said, trying to sound hurt.  "I care."
   "Oh, do you?" she asked skeptically.
   "Of course I do!"
   "Then why don't you make a decision for once?"
   "Wait a minute...  are you talking about guys in general, or me in
particular?"
   "All of you!"
   "Sheesh...  what's up with you?  What brought this on?"
   "I offered to cook you a meal, and you act like you don't really care!"
   "I do care...  I just...  I don't know what kind of stuff you have at
home, and I don't want you to go to a lot of trouble just for me."
   "It's no trouble," Heather stressed.  "I want to do something nice for
you.  After all...  you put up with my concert, didn't you?"
   "Well, yeah...  but you put up with mine too," I laughed.  "So we're
even.  Fair enough?"
   "Whatever," Heather answered softly, and I wondered if something else
was going on besides my apparent inability to make a decision.
   "Heather?"
   "What?"
   "What's going on?"
   "What do you mean?"
   "I mean...  I'm sorry, but you're kind of overreacting here.  Is
everything okay?"
   "Yes," she answered after a moment's hesitation.
   "Liar," I said quietly.  "Everything is obviously not okay.  What's
going on?" I asked again.
   "It's...  I don't really know.  Life is just really complicated all of a
sudden.  I think I need a new job for one thing.  Selling flowers just
doesn't cut it, and I'm barely paying my bills on time, and I'm even late
on this month's rent.  Then my classes are all hectic and I'm trying to
juggle all of that with you..." she trailed off.
   "I'm sorry," I finally managed.  "I definitely don't mean to be a
burden."
   "Oh, God...  I didn't mean it like that!  You're the only good thing
happening right now."
   "Good to hear," I said, laughing a bit.  "For a minute I was worried."
   "Don't be," Heather sighed.  "I'm sorry...  I just...  it's all too
much. Sometimes I just want to be pampered."
   "Shit, and here I am, making you figure everything out.  You don't have
to cook for me, you know."
   "No, it's not that.  I really want to...  you just...  I think you
caught me at a bad moment is all."
   "Are you sure?"
   "I suppose...  yes, I'm definitely sure," Heather replied.
   "Good," I answered.  "Because I didn't go grocery shopping last night
because I knew you were cooking.  And don't worry about it, okay?  I'm sure
whatever you make will be fine.  I'm really looking forward to dessert at
the very least.  You promised me it would be good, and I don't even know
what it will be!"
   Suddenly Heather's voice became sultry over the phone - apparently her
concern over life's hassles had evaporated - and even without seeing her I
imagined her eyes getting heavy with passion as her voice deepened.
   "That's right, I did say something about that, didn't I?" she said
throatily.
   "What did you have in mind?" I asked.
   "What do you want?" she countered.
   "What do you mean?"
   "For food, silly!  You do have to make a decision.  I wasn't kidding
about that!"
   "Fine...  how about lasagna?" I asked.  "Too much?"
   "Finally!" Heather laughed.  "I knew it was that simple...  just get a
guy thinking there's sex involved and suddenly the decisions come that much
quicker.  I knew it!"
   "You're so mean," I said, shaking my head.  "Don't you realize that you
have it all wrong?"
   "What are you talking about?  You know I'm right!"
   "Not at all...  you want to know why guys are so easy-going and
noncommittal around you?"
   "Why?" she asked suspiciously.
   "Sex."
   "Sex?  What are you talking about?"
   "Guys...  at least in my experience...  are so desperate to get into a
girl's pants that they'll agree with anything, in order not to piss off the
girl."
   "I should be offended at that, right?" Heather asked in a wounded voice,
although I could hear the grin behind the words.
   "Why?"
   "You just admitted that you're trying to get into my pants!" Heather
laughed.
   "Well, it seemed like the next logical step," I said, laughing along
with her.
   "Oh really?"
   "Sure.  I was practically inside your shirt at the concert.  It seemed
like the pants should be the next thing."
   "You're so bad," Heather laughed.  "But I suppose you're right."
   "I am?" I gulped.
   "I did promise that you could see my scar."
   "What scar?" I asked.
   "The one you couldn't see at the concert."
   "Ah, that's right!"
   "So you see, you have a couple things to look forward to.  Getting into
my pants - but only to see the scar - and dessert."
   "Sounds good," I said.  "When should I come over?"
   "How about tomorrow night?" Heather said.  "I don't work...  are you
busy?"
   "Well, yeah actually, but for lasagna and dessert and a free peep show I
can stay up extra late to cram."
   "So bad!" Heather laughed again.  "It's a date then.  I'll see you
tomorrow?"
   "Sure."
   We chatted for a few more minutes before I begged off, pleading an
excessive amount of work to get done before the next evening.  After a few
hours of intensive work - on both my own projects and grading assignments
for the music department - I went to bed, my head filled with thoughts of
the next evening.
   *****
   I woke the next morning, bleary eyed and not at all refreshed from my
sleep.  My dreams had been haunted by horrible visions of Heather.  In my
dreams the two of us were standing in her living room, surrounded by roses
and lasagna, loud punk music blaring from her stereo.  Heather began
unbuttoning her blouse in order to show me her scar and in my dream I grew
more and more excited.
   My anticipation quickly turned to revulsion however, as her entire upper
body appeared to be covered with pasty white scar tissue.
   "It's okay," she said in my dream.  "It doesn't hurt.  You can touch it
if you want."
   Unfortunately, in my dream I was not as gallant - or as tactful - as I
like to think I would be in real life, and I recoiled in horror.
   "Don't you like it?" Heather asked as she advanced on my retreating
form.
   "It's fine," I said lamely.  To my dismay, in my dream I bolted from her
apartment, Heather's cry of disappointment still ringing in my ears as I
woke with a start.  I found myself tangled in my sheets, my body covered
with sweat.
   "Get a grip," I said to myself as I showered.  "It can't be that bad,
and besides, Heather seems fine with it."
   I was still preoccupied with my dream - or rather my nightmare - as I
walked into the music department.  It had been a disappointment to both Dr.
Bergerud and myself that Estelle had decided to take off the rest of the
semester after her nasty fall, and I was not looking forward to another
early morning confrontation with Ms.  Parker.  I braced myself for the
harsh voice of the replacement secretary, but to my surprise there was a
new face at the secretary's desk.
   "Hi Daniel," a chipper voice called to me, and I had to look twice
before I realized that I recognized the new office worker.
   "Katie?" I asked incredulously, "Is that you?"
   "I look a little different, don't I?" asked Professor B's daughter.
   "You sure do!" I exclaimed.  "You look so...  so..."
   "Professional?" she smiled.
   "Yeah...  what happened?" Katie Bergerud had been in the music office a
few times during the first semester, but until recently I had not been
aware that she was Professor Bergerud's daughter.  She had usually been
through to get help with assignments, although I hadn't had that much
direct contact with her, although I had seen her enough to see she
generally dressed like any of the college freshmen.
   "My dad said if I wanted to earn a few dollars he had an opening for me
for a week or so," she said.  "But I had to get almost an entirely new
wardrobe!"
   "You look good," I said truthfully, admiring the sharp lines of her
business suit.  Katie was a beautiful girl, although the Professor always
joked she got her looks completely from her mother.  I had never seen Mrs.
Bergerud, but if her husband was telling the truth - and I had no reason to
believe otherwise - the Professor had one fine looking family.
   "Thanks," Katie said, just as the phone rang.  She motioned for me to
stay where I was for a moment while she answered the call.A "Music Office,"
she said crisply.  "This is Katie speaking."
   I stood as she dealt with the caller, transferring whoever it was to her
father's phone.  When she hung up she looked at me intently for a moment.
   "What?" I asked.
   "Nothing," she said.  "My dad's told me a lot about you but we've never
really chatted that much."
   "Oh.  Um...  I guess not.  How's college going?" I asked.
   "Great!" she laughed, her cheeks dimpling slightly.  "I just love my
classes, although my dad's kind of a harsh grader."
   "I should probably take part of the blame for that," I said guility.  "I
grade a lot of the assignment.  Although, if you don't mind me asking, how
did you end up in his section anyway?" I asked.  "Isn't it kind of strange
to have him as a teacher?"
   "Not really.  I mean, it was strange at first, but now I think it's
great!  How many other students have access to their teachers 24/7 like I
do?"
   "Is that a good thing?"
   "Sure!  Well, I guess not always, especially when I'm not doing so
great. He can be pretty tough, but still...  I love him!"
   "That's cool," I said absentmindedly as I walked back to my office,
again curious at how close the two seemed.  Most people around my age -
myself included - wanted nothing more than to get out of the house and put
as much distance between themselves and their parents as possible, but
Katie seemed just the opposite.  She seemed so devoted to him it was
strange.  But who was I to argue or disagree?  Even though I'd escaped the
house as soon as I could, I had always been very close to my own family.
   "How's it going?" I heard Professor Bergerud call out from his office. I
pushed open his door and saw him sitting behind his desk.  I noted with a
bit of satisfaction that his own workspace was - if possible - even more
loaded down with papers than my own.
   "Good," I answered.  "Finally someone pleasant in the office!" I
laughed.
   "What do you mean?" he asked, misunderstanding my comment.  "Wasn't
Katie nice to you?  I'll have to have words with her about that," he
mumbled to himself, so quietly I wasn't sure if he intended for me to hear.
   "No, I was talking about Katie!" I said.  "She was certainly a sight for
sore eyes after the last couple weeks.  That Janet...  excuse me, Ms. 
Parker, was something, wasn't she?"
   "Don't remind me," he laughed.  "So tell me Daniel, do you have any
plans for Christmas?"
   "Not really," I said.  "I'm going to visit my parents in Illinois, but
that's about it."
   "Illinois?" he asked.  "I thought you were from around here."
   "I am, but after I started college everyone else moved."
   "Oh, right...  they moved a couple years ago, right?" he asked, and I
nodded.  "So, what about Heather?" he asked pointedly.  "Are you taking her
home to meet the parents?"
   "Nah," I shrugged.  "I thought about it, but she's visiting her folks
out of state.  Besides, it seemed a little early.  Besides, we talked on
the phone last night, and we're getting together tonight.  We have a little
time before break.  It's fine," I said.
   "Fair enough."
   "So, what size is the pile of work on my desk?" I asked.  "I see you
have quite a bit for yourself."
   "Don't worry," he laughed.  "I saved you some."
   "I'm sure you did," I grinned.  "I'm sure you did."
   *****
   Unbelievably, by the time I got home from school that night, I had
almost forgotten about that evening's dinner date with Heather.  I was laid
out on the couch, in that space between consciousness and sleep when the
phone rang.
   "Hello?" I mumbled.
   "Dan, are you okay?"
   "Heather?"
   "Who else?  Where are you?" she asked.
   "What do you mean?" I asked before the realization hit me.  I jumped off
the couch, frantically checking the clock.  It was already twenty minutes
after seven o'clock.  Somehow I had managed to sleep for two hours.
   "Dinner, remember?" she said, and I could hear the exasperation in her
voice.
   "I'm so sorry," I said as sincerely as I could.  "School sucked today
and I fell asleep on the couch."
   "How soon can you be here?" she asked.
   "Ten...  fifteen minutes," I said.  I looked in the hall mirror, decided
that I had no need to shave and that my hair wasn't too bad, all things
considered.
   "Okay, hurry up," Heather said and quickly hung up.
   I arrived, nervous and out of breath, twelve minutes later.  I waited by
the downstairs door while Heather buzzed me into the apartment building.
   "Sorry," I apologized again when I arrived at her door.
   "Don't worry about it," Heather replied, stepping back from the door to
allow me to enter.  Her apartment was small - barely more than a studio -
but Heather had somehow decorated so that it appeared much larger.  There
was a distinct sleeping area, a television and stereo in one corner, and a
desk piled high with books.  I could see into her closet, which appeared to
be mostly empty and grinned when I saw a chest of drawers sitting
underneath her hanging clothes.
   "What's so funny?" Heather asked when she saw my smile.
   "Your dresser in the closet," I explained.  "I did the same thing in my
first dorm room."
   "It saves space," Heather answered, gesturing to the rest of the
apartment.  "And as you can see, space is really at a premium here."
   "Nah, I like it," I said.  "It's...  it's nice and comfortable."
   "Good," Heather nodded.  "Because as you can see I don't have a table,
so where do you want to eat, on the floor on on my bed?"
   "Couldn't wait to jump into bed with me, huh?" I teased.  "I'm joking,
the bed is fine.  I promise to be a gentleman." I laughed, raising my right
hand as if giving a pledge.  "I swear."
   "Too bad," Heather laughed, making a 'tsk' sound with her tongue.  "I
was kind of hoping you might decide to be a little bad tonight."
   "Oh really?" I asked, raising my eyebrows.  "I can do that."
   "Anything to get into my pants, right?" she laughed.
   "Exactly."
   "Well, that will just have to wait," she said, hurrying the short
distance to the stove.  Heather grabbed an oven mitt and carefully
extracted a large dish of lasagna, the melted cheese still bubbling on top.
   "Holy crap!" I said, amazed at the size of the dish.  "Did you make
enough?"
   "Probably not," she admitted.  "Trust me, I love leftovers!"
   "Fair enough," I laughed.
   "Can you grab those plates?" Heather asked, motioning with her head.  I
nodded and grabbed the plates, along with the serving spatula and two
forks.
   The two of us sat on Heather's bed, the dish of lasagna sitting between
us as we waited for it to cool.
   "You know," she said after a bite of one of the breadsticks she had also
prepared.  "I hate to even mention it, but we don't need to use the plates.
I'm so used to eating alone that I generally just eat right out of the
dish."
   "You what?" I said in mock horror.  "I suppose you drink right out of
the milk carton too, right?"
   "Like you don't?" she snorted.
   "Fine...  guilty as charged," I said.  But having decided that table
manners were of little importance, the two of us decided to dig right in
and had quickly demolished just less than half the food.
   "That was really good," I said as I leaned back against the headboard,
careful to keep my feet away from the leftover lasagna.
   "It was indeed," Heather replied.  She had leaned against the wall,
perpendicular to the bed and was now sitting with her legs draped over
mine.
   "You did a fine job of cooking," I said, reaching out to pat Heather on
the leg.  I felt her leg muscles twitch under my fingers and with an evil
glint in my eye I started to quickly knead the soft tissue just above her
left knee.
   "Stop it!" she laughed, trying jerk her legs away from me but I was too
quick and reached out with my left hand, trapping her legs at the ankles as
I continued my assault.  Heather squealed indignantly and again tried to
wrestle away from my grip but I continued tickling her legs, occasionally
moving my hand around and teasing the skin on the back of her knees.
   As Heather laughed under my touch, still squirming on the bed, I
realized that her skirt, which would normally have fallen to just below her
knee, had begun to creep up her legs.  Aware that Heather hadn't noticed
anything unusual, I doubled my assault and soon had Heather screaming with
laughter as she twisted on the bed.
   Just as the clingy fabric of her skirt threatened to slip past the top
of her thighs and reveal the color of her panties Heather noticed my gaze.
To my disappointment she managed to pull from my grasp and lay there on the
bed, panting and out of breath.
   "Pervert," Heather accused, a smile playing over her face as she said
it.
   "Me?" I asked in a small voice, pretending to be innocent of all
wrong-doing.  "What did I do?"
   "You were trying to peek up my skirt," she said primly, tucking the
skirt down over her knees and smoothing it over her thighs.
   "Now why would I do a thing like that?" I wondered aloud.
   "Because you're a boy, and all boys are naughty perverts."
   "Well, if that's what we are, then I probably couldn't help it, now
could I?" I asked, proud of my logic.  "I'm only doing what nature
intended."
   "Is that so?" Heather asked.
   "I think it must be," I said as I slowly reached out a hand to once more
touch Heather's smooth leg.  Heather was well-muscled and her thighs were
firm as I brushed aside the skirt and again rested my fingers just above
her knee.  "Besides, you promised me a peep show, so where's that scar?" I
leered.
   "Keep going," Heather said quietly, silently spreading her thighs apart
as my hand slowly slid up her leg.  She twisted around so she was nearly
facing me and I found myself looking straight up between her legs at the
shiny material of Heather's panties.  They were pink and the material had
stretched over her labia, the outline of her pussy clear to my view.
   "Am I getting close?" I asked softly, my eyes sliding up Heather's body.
Her nipples were clearly evident as they poked through her blouse, which
Heather had somehow managed to partially unbutton while I was otherwise
preoccupied.  I kept raising my gaze until my eyes were locked with
Heather's.  She grinned as my hand slipped further up her thigh and shook
her head.
   "The scar's not on the top of my leg," she whispered huskily.
   "No?" I asked, sliding my hand down until it was wedged between the
bottom of her legs and the bedspread.  "Is it back here?"
   "Maybe," she said in response.  Heather pulled herself up, turning to
face me completely, her knees now straddling my right leg.
   "Let's see," I said seriously.  I brought both hands into play, each
moving feverishly over her soft skin, drawing a moan of appreciation from
Heather's lips.  Taking a chance I slipped both hands around Heather's body
and took a handful of her firm behind with each.
   "It's not there either," she said, grinning as she ground her ass cheeks
against my hands.
   "Hmm...  I replied.  "The scar isn't on top of your leg, it's not
underneath or behind, so where could it be?" I pulled her skirt up above
Heather's waist, taking my time in "searching" for the scar.  "I don't see
it, I finally said, shaking my head in wonder.  "Where could it be?"
   "Give me your hand," Heather whispered.  She took hold of my right hand,
placing the palm on the inside of her right thigh.  I began trailing my
fingers over the pale white flesh of her inner thigh, steadily moving
upward.
   "Am I close?" I asked, the back of my hand only inches from the bottom
of Heather's panties.  Her legs were spread wider and I could see a faint
damp spot dotting the front of her underwear, the scent of her arousal very
apparent in the air.
   "Very close," she said.  "Just a little bit higher."
   I moved my hand up an inch or two until my fingers ran across a jagged
bump of scar tissue, pencil thin and no more than a couple of inches long.
Just as my fingers touched the old wound my hand bumped against the bottom
of Heather's pussy and she gave out a low moan at the contact.
   "Did I find it?" I asked, looking into her eyes as I began moving my
fingers over the scar, rubbing my hand through the dampness at the juncture
of her thighs at the same time.  "I had thought it might be bigger," I
admitted sheepishly, remembering the horrible dream I'd had the night
before.
   "That's it," Heather hissed.  She twisted her hips, causing my hand to
come into firmer contact with her pussy and gave another low moan.
   "Does it feel good when I touch it?" I asked.
   "Touch what?" Heather groaned as I allowed my thumb to slide between the
covered lips of her pussy.  The material of her panties was sticky with her
juices and as I pressed more firmly against her labia I felt Heather give a
small shudder.
   "Your scar," I grinned as I slowly masturbated her, trying to keep up
the pretense of searching for her scar.  "Do you like it when I touch the
scar?"
   "God, yes," she hissed.
   "How did you get it?" I asked, carefully slipping aside the crotch of
the flimsy panties to touch the smooth, hot wetness of Heather's pussy with
my finger.  She began to tell the story of how she got the scar, all the
while grinding her pussy down against my hand as she brought herself closer
and closer to orgasm.
   "I was fifteen," she said.  "I was at a concert and people started... 
oh God!  People started jumping up on the folding chairs and I did too."
   "Yes?" I asked.
   "Right there...  oh yes, right there.  Anyway," she continued, pausing
to catch her breath as I started sliding my thumb over the nub of her clit,
spreading the sticky juices seeping from her pussy over the tiny bundle of
nerves.  "Anyway, I got up on my chair too, but I was so light that when
someone bumped into me I fell.  And when I landed I fell across the back of
a wooden folding chair and I ripped up the inside of my thigh."
   "Ouch," I said.  "But you're all better now?"
   "Oh God yes," she hissed, beginning to hump her hips down on my hand.  I
felt her climax coming closer and sped my movements.  Oblivious to anything
other than her own pleasure, Heather reached into her blouse and began
teasing her nipples through her bra.
   "Come for me," I whispered, thrusting up into her wetness as Heather
rocked back and forth on my hips, her mouth open in a silent cry.  Suddenly
I felt her muscles clamp down on my finger and Heather's legs began to
spasm as an orgasm washed over through body.
   "Oh fuck," she moaned, collapsing against my chest.  I continued
frigging her clit until Heather pushed my hand away.  Her forehead was damp
against my chest as she recuperated on my chest.
   Slowly Heather came to, her eyes coming back to focus and losing the
glazed look she'd had.  With a grin she looked at the front of my pants and
I realized the bulge of my expected erection was poking Heather in the
thigh.
   "Is this for me?" she grinned.
   "Who else?"
   "Goody!" she laughed and before I knew what was happening Heather had
unzipped the front of my pants.  She tried to reach in to grasp at my cock,
but found the fit too tight and swiftly unbuckled my belt and unsnapped my
jeans.  "Much better," she said as she reached in to gently stroke my
prick.
   Her hand felt hot and as her fingers danced on the sensitive skin of my
erection and I groaned in frustration.  I knew the excitement of bringing a
beautiful girl to a quivering orgasm in my lap would have me on a very
short trigger and I fought to regain control.
   "I want to watch you spurt," Heather whispered, jerking my prick free
from the confines of my underwear.  She brought her hand between her own
thighs and when she returned to my prick her fingers were slippery with her
own juices.  She commenced jerking on my erection and I felt myself quickly
nearing my release.
   "Faster," I moaned as I felt the tightening in my testicles announcing
my imminent orgasm.  Heather sped her pace and to my surprise lowered her
other hand between my legs to cup my balls.
   Feeling her hand gently rolling my testicles in the palm of her hand, I
roared out the arrival of my release and with eyes pinched tightly shut I
felt my load spurt out the end of my cock.
   Heather kept pumping wildly, jerking my cock as I sprayed my seed all
over my legs and chest.
   "Enough," I panted as the sensations got too strong.  The front of my
shirt, damp and sticky from my sweat and ejaculation, seemed almost glued
to my chest.
   Slowly I got up as Heather leaned back against the wall, her legs
splayed obscenely wide and I could see the pink inner flesh of her pussy,
still damp and glistening with arousal.
   I staggered to the bathroom where I found a small towel.  I wiped my
face and neck ad dabbed my semen as best I could.  After rinsing out the
towel I brought it to Heather and helped her clean up.  As my hand swabbed
the sticky swamp of her pussy Heather shuddered once more.  She grabbed my
wrist, holding my hand in place as a second, smaller orgasm shook her
abdomen.
   "Wow!" Heather finally managed as I helped her up.  The two of us stood
there, the smell of our recent activity still strong in the air.  The
silence was unnerving and I started to panic.  It was obvious that we had
both wanted and needed for this to happen, but I found myself unable to
come up with any words.  "Thank you," didn't seem like it would suffice.
   "Wow," I said, finally deciding to mimic Heather's exclamation.
   Heather stood there silently before bursting into a fit of giggles.
   "What's funny?" I asked.
   "Oh Dan, you are."
   "Why?"
   "Look at you!  You look like you're ready to bolt out of here as fast as
possible." She looked down at herself, the blouse no longer tucked into her
skirt, a tiny trail of her secretions coating her inner thighs.  "Don't you
want me anymore?" she pouted.
   "Of course I do, I just..."
   "What?"
   "I don't trust myself right now," I finally admitted.  "I actually do
have to leave pretty soon," I said, glancing at the clock.  "It's quite a
bit later than I'd planned to stay out.  It is a school night, you know," I
grinned.
   "What do you mean you don't trust yourself?" Heather asked in confusion.
   "I mean that if I don't leave right now, then I might never leave.  I
know I want to stay here, but I don't really know if I'm ready for that."
   "Good," Heather grinned.  "So you're not just using me and leaving me?"
   "Never," I growled, moving quickly to stand in front of her.  I grabbed
Heather around the waist and pulled her close for a kiss.
   "Mmm, I believe you," Heather said when we broke our embrace.  She
leaned up for another kiss but I quickly backed away, pressing my finger to
her lips.
   "I really do have to go," I apologized.  I laughed when I saw the look
of surprise on her face.  "Hey," I said in my defense.  "I'm just taking a
page out of your book."
   "What do you mean?"
   "Always leave 'em wanting more," I laughed.  "Consider this me... 
whetting your appetite." I bent and kissed her on the nose.
   "Jerk," Heather laughed as I moved to the door.  "You can't go now,
leaving me like this!  I'm still...  very hungry!"
   "Eat some lasagna," I called over my shoulder as the door slammed behind
me.  As I neared my car I realized we had forgotten something and quickly
pulled out my cell phone, knowing it had only been a minute or so.
   "What?" Heather asked when she picked up.
   "You forgot something," I said.  "You never fed me dessert."
   "Too bad," Heather laughed.  "You'll just have to get some next time."
   "Promise?" I asked.
   "Promise."
   End Chapter Four
  
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