Alan Ch. 13

away. The more he thought about it the better he started to feel. Yeah!

They *didn't* know, and I'm sure as fuck not gonna tell them. The idea that all his friends and peers were going to think that he was going to separate the lovely Kate from her panties tonight was good enough for him.

"BUCK UP," he ordered to himself. "ACT LIKE A MAN." He managed a smile at last.

Before he knew it they were in the limo. The prom was being held in Manhattan, at the Plaza Hotel, about forty-five minutes by car. Chad mostly kept quiet, staring out the window. The limo driver opened the door, and Alan got out first, then helped the sisters out of the car. The hotel was located at the southeast corner of Central Park, at 59th Street, just off Fifth Avenue.

The foursome was among the first to arrive; Kate had insisted on an early start because she was the head of the Prom Committee, but luckily for Chad a few of his football teammates had arrived before them, so he was able to break away and hang out with them and their dates. It was a blessing almost, that Kate was chairing the committee. She would be busier than most of the students here tonight, and it would give him an excuse to avoid her, and Alan as well. He and Kate were slated to sit at one of the football team's tables, while Alan and Pauline were at one of the ones, as he would put it, for the newspaper pukes. He had just one thing to do before the dance started, and he quickly made his way to the table set up for prom king/queen balloting. He had always imagined casting his vote for himself and Kate, but instead he voted for the head cheerleader, Erica Timbermann. "Serves her right," he thought hatefully, hoping enough of his classmates would vote as he did, denying Kate the crown..

* * *

Alan, Pauline, and Kate each had a marvelous time. Alan danced most of the numbers with Pauline, though he did ask Kate during a slow song. Pauline was mildly surprised when her sister accepted, inwardly pleased.

Kate was thrilled; she had been hoping Alan would ask her. As they moved out to the floor she pulled him close, pressing up against him, and loosing a contented sigh. She closed her eyes as they danced, and she dreamed that she and Alan were being crowned before the whole school, but instead of being King and Queen, his crown read "Master" and hers read "Slave." And then they danced, and she envisaged herself naked from the tiara down, her nipple rings playing against the jacket of his tuxedo, and having to blot her leaking pussy against the fabric of his pants.

Their dance was the last one before the dinner was served. Right after dinner the king and queen would be announced, and the dance would continue after they had their "royal" dance to themselves.

"Can I have everyone's attention?" Dr. Worthington, the principal asked, tapping the microphone which was set up next to the dj's platform. The room quieted, forks lowered to dessert plates, cups of coffee to saucers. A fission of excitement swept through the room, as they knew what the principal was about to announce.

"Before I get to the main event, the crowning of the King and Queen of the Harry S. Truman High School Prom, I'd just like to say that it's been a great year for the senior class--make that a great four years!" The room erupted with applause.

"I hope you will join me in thanking Mr. McDaniel and Ms. Lewittes, faculty advisors for the class of '02. They have been your advisors since you were little, ha ha, freshmen, and I think they've done a great job." More applause as the pair of teachers stood.

"Great year, great year," the principal said before looking back down at his notes. "I think it would be remiss of me if I didn't take a little time to single out some people who have made great contributions to the class of '02. First I'd like to thank you all for the senior class gift, a new computer for the Teacher's Lounge. It will be a welcomed tool for us to use in preparing to teach the future classes of what is soon to become

your alma mater. Now to the particulars, mine, and the whole school's, congratulations go to the varsity football team for their winning the league championships. I'd like for the team members here in attendance to please stand." The team stood, basking in their admiration.

"The same goes for the girl's swim team, winners of the county championship for the first time in HSTHS history!" The swimmers rose and took their kudos from the prom-goers.

"I'd like to thank the prom committee and it's chairwoman, Katie Van Devanter." Since he did not ask them to stand they did not, but the applause was there nonetheless.

"Congratulations to Anne Sweeny and the rest of the Annual's staff. I'm sure I say this every year, but this year's yearbook was the best ever!"

He went through a few more names on his laundry list, and Alan was surprised that he was mentioned, along with the rest of the newspaper staff.

"And now the announcement you're all waiting for: Prom King and Prom Queen. The votes have been tabulated and here are the results." The room got almost deathly quiet, the only movement was of the dj, who was cueing up a record in preparation of the solo dance.

"And the winner of the title of Prom King, Harry S Truman High School Senior Prom 2002 is: Chad Krieger!" The quarterback rose, very pleased. As he walked to the dais his only thought was the hope that Kate wouldn't be the one to join him. Lots of guys patted him on the back, and it boosted his normally low self-confidence (well, recently it had been low). Mrs. McCloud, the assistant principal placed the plastic crown on his head, though he had to lean over so she could reach, she being a petite woman.

"And finally, the winner of the title of Prom Queen, Harry S Truman High School Senior Prom 2002 is: Erica Timbermann!" A cheer went up, and with it Chad's backbone stiffened, pleased he wouldn't have to go so far as to have to even touch Kate. Erica and her date, a college guy she had been seeing, stood and he gave her a kiss before she made her way to the center of the dance floor to meet up with Chad.

"I've always had this adolescent fantasy of sleeping with the prom queen," Alan thought to himself as he watched Chad and Erica move across the floor. "Hey, what the hell? I mean I am an adolescent after all!" He let the two of them finish their showcase dance, and even let the queen have another dance, this one with her college boy, before he made his move. Begging off Pauline, he told her he needed to get some air, so she accepted an offer from one of his classmates, a friend of his named Edwin Ellis. "Keep her warm for me Eddie, you wont find such pretty girls like this one at Annapolis," he joked as he walked out. Pauline and Ed laughed.

* * *

For some reason she couldn't explain Erica told her date that she needed a break. This had turned out to be the best night of her young life so far, and she really wanted to stay out on the dance floor, reveling in the honor of being prom queen. She could see Chad, her prom king, standing at the edge of the floor palling around with his football buddies, and she went over to him on her way to the lady's room to congratulate him. As she was at the edge of the ballroom she saw that Wally, her date, was dancing a fast number with Kate Van Devanter, and though it was fitting that her guy was dancing with Chad's girl. "I can't believe I beat Kate Van Devanter out for prom queen. And by just one vote, no less!"

The lady's room was empty. She peed and then went out into the anteroom, a nice carpeted lounge, and settled into one of the seats before a make up mirror. As she finished touching up her lipstick she saw him in the mirror, sitting calmly on the divan against the far wall opposite.

"Jesus," she gasped, "What are you doing in here, Alan?" Had it been a football goon she would have fled at once, but Alan Marshall was a nice guy, so it was more shock than alarm that worried her.

"You look great, Erica," he said evenly.

"Thanks," she blushed, "Come on, I'm about to head back. Let's go together, and I'll let you dance with me." Alan in the women's bathroom was really weirding her out. He rose and crossed the room to her, and she held out her hand, assuming he was offering to help her out of her seat, but instead he grasped her at the wrist and leaned over and kissed her. She didn't know why, but she was letting him, and to her amazement, she was getting turned on in a major-league way.

"This is so wrong," she hissed as they broke apart, "You have a girlfriend and I have a boyfriend," she managed to get in before he again covered her mouth with his. She surrendered to the kiss, he ass squirming in her chair.

"This is so wrong," she repeated.

"But it feels so right, doesn't it?"

"Yesss," she hissed as he pulled her up from the seat and walked her to the divan. "Ohmigod, Alan, what if someone comes in and catches us?"

"I locked the door." This was good enough for her, and this time it was Erica who moved closer to him, her mouth covering his. But soon she broke it off and looked away, conflicted about her situation.

"I can't," she sobbed, her chin sinking to her chest, eyes closed tightly. Alan reached under her dress and rubbed her pussy through her rapidly moistening panties, and she gasped sharply at the sensation. "I can't. You don't understand. I want to, but I can't." She sniffled. "I really really want to, Alan, but I can't."

"But Erica, you're the prom queen, and I want you. Can't you feel it? Why? Why can't you?" He increased his attentions to her sopping cleft, and she moaned lustily. Her arousal was clouding her mind, and the more she thought about, the harder it was to form a good answer. Still, she persevered.

"Don't, ah ah ah, don't make me say it. Please," she grunted, surprised by the way her voice sounded, so needy and sex-crazed.

"I'm sorry, my queen, but I must insist. Why?"

"I'm a v-v-v-v-v," she whimpered.

"A what?" he teased. He slipped a finger around the edge of her panties and into her. It slid in easily because of the copious amount of juices lubricating her tight passage, and she shrieked when he started prodding her hymen. She thought he was going to pop her cherry right then and there, and was relieved when he relented his assault against her thin membrane

"You're a virgin, oh, well, that's a big deal" he said with a note of concern in his voice, though she couldn't tell he was feigning it.

"Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you," she cried in relief as he withdrew his finger. "What, what are you doing?" she bawled softly. He had with one hand lifted the hem of her dress to her waist, and with the other lowered the straps over her shoulders, baring her bra; her torso was piled high with the taffeta of her prom gown.

"Shhhh, don't worry, Erica, I'm going to take care of you real well."

She believed him.

Pulling her up her dress fell off as she stood upright. Before she knew it she was at the divan. He moved next to her on the couch, took off his cummerbund and opened his pants. She gasped in surprise at his girth. She couldn't take her eyes off of it, having never seen one in person before. "Are you nervous," he asked her. She nodded, not trusting her voice. "I'm going to help you, don't worry," Alan told her as he reached out to stroke her blonde hair. "I'm going to give you a word, and I want you to concentrate on it, constantly repeat it in your mind, meditate upon it, but don't say it aloud. OK?"

"OK," Erica whispered in reply. "What is the word?"

"Surrender."

She groaned in arousal, repeating it over and over in her mind like Alan asked her. Her body felt like it was humming, tingly all over. Surrender. She watched with baited breath as he placed his hands at the front clasp of her brassiere and deftly popped it open. Surrender. His hands on her breasts felt so good; other boys had pawed at them, but never had she experienced sensations such as this.

Surrender. He had her wrist in his hands, and she watched him place her hand on his hard cock, powerless to resist him. Surrender. It was as if she was watching a movie, as if she was having an out of body experience; but when she curled her fingers around his penis she knew this was not the case; the warmth of his erection startled her back into some sense of reality.

Surrender.

"Are they all that big?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper, so low in fact that she had to strain to hear her own question above the pounding of her heart. Surrender. He laughed. Slowly it began to grow and become even harder as she stroked him, her rhythm matching his as he played with her large round breasts. Surrender. Surrender. Surrender.

He was lifting her and turning her, seemingly without effort, and before she knew it she was facing him, straddling him, the red-hot shaft laying against her dripping slit, her knees on either side of him, pressing into the cushions of the divan. Surrender.

"What if I don't want to do this?" Surrender.

"You don't?" he asked, a look of genuine surprise across his face.

She bit her lip. Surrender. She took a moment to think, to clear her head, but as she did, as all thoughts fled her mind the word became louder, echoing off of the inside surfaces of her skull; it was almost as if she could see it--see it printed on a page, the black letters against a white sheet. S-u-r-r-e-n-d-e-r.

Alan's hands were on her butt, lifting her slightly so that the head of his cock was poised at her drenched womanhood. Surrender. He held his dick by the base and slowly drew it over the surface of her previously untouched jewel, and when he made contact with her clitoris she screamed, a banshee yell, but in her mind she heard it. SURRENDER!

"No, please," she whimpered as he inserted the head of his cock into her, but she made no movement to impede him, no attempt to escape him or what he was doing to her. Surrender. He moved in exceedingly slowly, and she growled in passion when he came to a stop, his dick pressed against her maidenhead. Surrender.

"Why are you doing this to me?" she asked forlornly, small tears running down her cheeks. Surrender.

"I'm not doing anything. I'm waiting for you, lovely Queen Erica." Surrender.

"Huh?" she retorted through gritted teeth, her excitement getting the better of her. Surrender. "What are you waiting for me to do, Alan?" Surrender.

"That's obvious, isn't it?" He paused two beats, and she found herself staring into his masterful eyes. Surrender. "I'm waiting for you to..." Pause for effect. "...Surrender."

She groaned, and to her amazement her pussy spasmed around the end of his cock, her walls clenching tightly around him, and spurt of juices gushed out of her, wetting his erection. He felt her start. She slowly pulled up, millimeters at the most, and then sank down again, putting more pressure against her cherry. Another attempt, more pressure. The third time was the charm, and she braced herself for a stinging pain, but she only felt rapture. She had done it. She had surrendered.

"Oh My GOD!" Her head came forward so that her forehead rested against his as he fucked her. She was tight. Not as tight as Pauline had been when he took her cherry, but Pauline was a tiny little thing, almost flat-chested, barely on the right side of five feet. Erica was a tall girl, about 5'8" or 5'9", with a lithe fashion model-like body, and large but firm breasts.

"Mmmmm, yeah," she exclaimed, a smile finally creeping across her lips. She looked straight into him, her blue eyes sparkling. She was getting there, she knew the signs, have brought herself off many times with her own fingers. "Oh, Alan, I'm gonna, I'm gonna..."

"Just go with it, baby, surrender to the pleasure." But by the time he had finished the sentence she had come. It was that word. She had forgotten it over the last few minutes, but hearing him say it brought it all back to her, and her

body seized, and her back arched back until she was perpendicular to him, her back resting on the tops of his thighs. Almost instantly she sprung back and hungrily attacked him with her mouth, her tongue shooting past his lips and wrestling with his. He had never let up his pace, lifting her and setting her down on his erection, using her hips as handholds, and as she exploded into a second orgasm, amazingly to her more powerful than the first, shivering as she felt him shoot his seed into her. Exhausted, she lowered her head and rested it against her shoulder. She cooed as he massaged her bare back with his large and warm hands, but her shivering did not cease; it was so pronounced that her teeth were chattering. Alan put his arms all the way around her and hugged her tightly, and her trembling subsided quickly. In a few moments she was composed enough to sit up, and she let out a squeak when she felt his softening shaft slip from her. She giggled, and looked at him again.

"Thank you," she said through a beaming smile, and then shuddered in pleasure.

He lifted her off of his lap and then stood and help her up. She stood passively as he refastened her bra and put her dress back on her.

"Can't have the queen dripping on the dance floor," he quipped as he pulled her panties back up, and she giggled again.

"Oh my, how long have we been in here? There must be a huge line out there for the bathroom!"

Alan glanced at his watch. "No, just ten minutes."

Her eyes widened. It had felt like hours!

"I'll go first, and you follow in a minute or two," he told her. She nodded.

"I can't believe what just happened. I can't believe what I just did," she thought in wonder.

Surrender.

* * *

"Miss me?" Alan asked Pauline as he returned to the ballroom.

"You were gone?" she joked.

"Yeah, just getting some air."

"Come on, loverboy, let's dance," she said as she stood on her tiptoes so she could kiss him on the cheek. They hit the floor.

After a few minutes Pauline pulled back slightly. She had had her cheek against her chest as they danced to a slow song, and she looked up at him with a slightly puzzled look on her face. "Why is she looking at you like that?"

"Who?"

"Erica."

"No idea," he said, pulling her back against him.

* * *

After many hours the prom finally had to come to an end. Alan, Pauline, Kate, and Chad went up to their rooms. As far as the Marshall, Van Devanter, and the Krieger parents knew, Alan and Chad would stay in one, and the sisters in the other. Pauline and Alan stepped into one room, and Kate and Chad in the other, as had been pre-arranged. Alan left the room almost at once, and knocked on the door of the other. Chad answered. Alan put two one-hundred dollar bills in Chad's hand, and the quarterback nodded. Ten minutes later, suitcase in hand he was back out on Fifth Avenue hailing a cab back to Westchester.

"I'm pooped," Pauline announced when he returned. "I know it's prom night and all, but could we not 'do it' tonight?"

"OK."

"Oh great, I just want to take a nice relaxing bath and get into bed. I can't wait to wake up beside you in the morning."

"That's a promise," he said seriously, and she laughed.

"Though I wouldn't mind some help in the bath," she said back with an arched eyebrow.

It was so romantic, she thought to herself. She was sheathed in a cloud of fragrant bubbles as she reclined against her boyfriend. He was lightly massaging her, and if he kept it up she couldn't guarantee that she wouldn't fall asleep, right here in the tub. Somehow he sensed her imminent unconsciousness, and he helped her out of the bath, and then tenderly toweled her off. Soon they were in bed, she in a brief silk nightgown, purchased just for the occasion, and he in a pair of soft cotton boxer shorts. Mere minutes after her head hit the pillow she was out like a light. Alan waited fifteen minutes before getting up. Quietly