Chapter 8: Deflowering Pauline

"So," Alan asked, "What do you want to do?" He and Pauline were in his car. He hadn't yet started the engine, so they were still in the Van Devanter's driveway. Usually when Alan took a girl out he came with a plan, either a movie or some activity, but his recent adventures had left him little time to prepare.

"Oh, I don't know," Pauline began, "There really aren't any good movies out now, and I feel like doing more than just sitting around at a coffee shop and talking. Hey, how do you feel about bowling?"

"I haven't been bowling in years. I think the last time was at Tim Elroy's twelfth birthday party. Sure, that sounds cool." Alan started the car and pulled out.

"So," Pauline asked, "Have you heard about my sister?" Alan put up his guard, wondering if Pauline knew anything about him and Kate. "She got the letter today. She got into Barnard. The two of you will be going to college together. Maybe she'll start being less rude to you."

When they reached the bowling alley Alan jumped out of the car and went around to open the door to help Pauline out. He leaned down to take her hand, and as she came out of the car their faces were at the same level, an unusual occurrence since Alan was an inch shy of six feet, and Pauline was barley two inches over five feet. Pauline leaned into him, her lips pressing against his, and Alan was a bit taken aback because he hadn't used any mental commands on her, and in effect this was a first date. Even though they had gone out briefly last year Alan knew that Pauline didn't kiss on the first date, and he also knew she was a virgin, so he had figured he would have to rely on his mental powers to warm her up. They kept kissing as Pauline emerged from the car, and continued even as he managed to close the door behind her. Alan had to bend his knees a bit in order to keep in contact, and Pauline had wrapped her arms around him, her hands rubbing up and down his back. The were startled out of their reverie by the blast of a car horn, and a the yell from the car's driver, "Hey you two, get a room!"

Pauline backed away from him slowly, her face burning with embarrassment. As she and Alan walked to the entrance of the bowling alley she ran her hands over her hair, neatening it.

Kate was in her bedroom when the phone rang; it was Chad. She had no idea what to say to him, but he spoke first. "Uh, how long has this thing between you and Alan been going on?" Kate didn't know if she would be able to answer. She had tried talking about her "relationship" with Alan to others before, but for some reason she found herself unable. She didn't know that Alan had altered her mental commands so that she could talk to Chad. After pausing for a minute to form her answer she was surprised that she was able to get the whole story out.

She told him about that first day in the newspaper office at school, how he fucked her and took her in the ass, breaking her anal cherry. She told him about the first time Alan had shaved her pussy, and the visits to the mall, to Dirty Dan's Piercing Parlor, and how when Dan had pierced her second nipple she had had an orgasm. She told him everything. As she was nearing the end of her narration she heard Chad grunting on the other end of the line, and she knew that he had come, and she could almost picture him stroking his cock, but for that the picture in her head was not Chad. It was Alan.

Alan was having a blast. Bowling strikes was easy if you had the power of the Seed and were telekinetic. "I can't believe how well I'm doing!" he said to his date as he bowled his fifth strike in a row. "I've never broken a hundred before." Pauline smiled at him as she sipped her Coke through the straw. "One day soon those pretty pink lips will be wrapped around something bigger," he thought to himself. By the time he was bowling his tenth frame a large crowd had formed around his lane, cheering him on as he approached perfection. The bowling alley manager was standing at the rear, camera at the ready to take Alan's photo for the "Wall of Fame." As all ten pins fell competing the 300 game the crowd began cheering, and Pauline gave him a hearty hug. The manager told him that he always sent the photos of the 300-gamers to the local paper, and they often published them.

"That was great, Pauline." They were walking back to his car, his arm around her shoulder, and hers around his waist.

"Hey jerkoff!" someone yelled from behind them. Alan turned and saw a half-full beer can flying at them, too late for him to do anything about it because he would not use his telekinetic powers in public so conspicuously. As the beer can bounced off his forehead and landed on Pauline he saw that there were four guys stalking them, including his "friend" Geoff Sherman. He handed Pauline his car keys, and instead of speaking to her he just mentally commanded her to run to his car, get in and lock the doors, it was faster this way, he reasoned to himself. He stood between the retreating Pauline, who was dripping with beer, and their pursuers. Why the hell was Geoff trying anything with him? He scanned his mind and read that Geoff thought he could stand up to him if the odds were four to one in his favor. As they neared him Alan was able to identify the other members of the mob. All were teammates of Geoff's: Matt Castro, Philip Herzog, and Walker Jackson, and all four of them had at least thirty pounds and three inches on Alan. He wasn't worried.

"Geoff, what the fuck is going on?" He could see the apprehension in Geoff's look, and noticed that of the four he was at the back of the pack.

"Shut your fucking mouth, loser!" Phil screamed as he charged at Alan. Alan took a half a step to the right as Phil attempted to tackle him, and they came in contact, though his side step distracted Phil, and he was unable to get his arms completely around Alan. Alan stiff-armed him, and he was pushed away by Alan's outstretched hand. Phil was crouched in tackling position, lowering his center of gravity like Coach Tompkins had taught him in football practice, and his eyes were squarely focused on Alan's torso, so he didn't see the fist hurtling towards his chin as he charged again. Alan's punch landed straight on his chin. The force of the blow was so great the Phil's feet left the ground and he flew about a yard and a half back, landing flat on his back, groaning and nearly knocked out. Matt and Walker then charged him, fists flying, and Alan ducked and weaved to avoid the blows. He hit Matt, the biggest of the quartet, about six and a half feet tall, and almost two hundred fifty pounds, all muscle, right in the gut, and Matt crumpled to the asphalt, doubled over in pain, and the wind knocked out of him. Now it was Geoff and Walker, and as the latter approached for another pass Alan raised his right leg and brought his foot down directly on Walker's knee, gratified by the crunching sound of sinew and bone coming apart.

"Please," Geoff had ceased his approach, and was almost dumbstruck at the scene before him. "Please." He was rooted in place, unable to do anything but to beg. "Please." Alan saw a tear form at the corner of his eye.

As Alan approached him Geoff began to back away, but Alan told him to get on his knees. "Please don't hurt me. Please."

"Down, NOW! On your knees!" He screamed at Geoff, and the bully complied. "Do you want me to break you right arm or your left arm, asshole?" Tears of terror were streaming down Geoff's face, and he was breathing labouredly. Geoff was right handed, and he was so afraid at this point that he wasn't thinking straight. Instead of thinking of a way out of his situation he was trying to decide which arm he wanted broken. He held up his left arm as if to shield himself, but also to offer it up as the arm to be broken. Alan grabbed it with both of his hands and gave it a mighty squeeze, but before it was even close to breaking he released it, and shoved Geoff over so he was prone. "I'm not a fucking bully. I don't break people's arms for kicks.

Assholes like you think it's fun to hurt people, and you're all going to hell for it."

He could see that Geoff was weeping freely, and that his body was in mild convulsions of fear. As he turned his back on them he called over his shoulder to Geoff, "Make sure you clean up this trash," gesturing to his three friends laying on the surface of the parking lot, "I don't want to get a summons for littering." As he reached his car he turned and looked and saw that Geoff was in the midst of helping his friends to their feet.

Pauline unlocked the doors as he approached, and he could see that she was trembling in fear, but a little goggle-eyed at what she just witnessed. He got in the car, and Pauline threw herself at him, burying her face in her chest, crying softly. He tilted her head up and kissed her on the mouth, her tongue slipping between his lips, her breathing ragged. He eased her off of him and started the car, pulling out of the lot and into traffic. Pauline was silent during the drive back to Alan's house, still dealing with the lingering fright within her.

Once inside the house he poured her a soft drink and brought it to her at the couch. Pauline was at last able to speak about the incident. "I can't believe those jerks! Coming at you four on one! How did you fight them off? I couldn't believe what I saw." Alan kissed her, and then led her to the bathroom so she could clean herself up, going to his bedroom to get her a shirt to wear instead of the beer-soaked blouse she had on. When she emerged barefoot a few minutes later she found him in his room, the lights dimmed and reclining on his bed. She curled up next to him and he flicked on the television using the remote. The NCAA tournament was under way, and they watched an early-round game in silence. Pauline wove her fingers through his, and for the first time since leaving the bowling alley she felt safe. Soon they were necking, their mouths exploring each other hungrily.

She knew that Alan's parents were going to be out for a while; they were in New York, at his dad's law firm's annual banquet, and she was considering how far she would let their fooling around go. When Alan's hands began to slip "below the equator" she didn't protest, and she loosed a small moan as he cupped her ass through her denim jeans. And when he began to pull off her top, she didn't object, but instead began to take his shirt off. This was going farther than she had planned, but her foremost thought was that she was happy that she had the aforethought to have chosen a pretty bra that night as she was getting dressed for her date.

She was very close to stopping him when he began to unfasten her bra, but she was feeling so good she said nothing. Alan's kissing technique was so masterful, she was as turned on as she had ever been in her life. The feel of her hardening nipples against his firm chest was exquisite, and the feel of his hands as they roamed her back was causing her to lose herself in the moment. She felt his hands at her waistband, and he unbuttoned her jeans and slowly lowered the zipper, and she lifted her ass up an inch off the mattress to let him pull down her pants. Once they were off he tossed them over the side of the bed and put his hands on her again. His touch was driving her arousal to never before seen heights, and she blushed, not only face but her whole body reddening, a tingling sensation spreading throughout her. She clawed at his waistband, yanking open his belt, and then opening his pants, frantic to get them off. She still wasn't sure if she was going to go "all the way," but since he took off her shirt, and then she his, and then he took of her jeans, she thought it was only right that she take off his chinos. As Alan began to run his hands all over her, over her naked chest and over her panty-covered behind, she began to moan rhythmically, her tongue vibrating in his mouth.

Alan laid her back on the bed face up, his body over hers as he licked and kissed her. He started around her neck, and then moving to her chest. "Yesssss," she hissed as he took one of her pink nipples between his lips and began to suck on it. After giving the other nipple the same treatment he moved further down; she giggled softly as he licked around her navel before sticking his tongue into it. Her entire body was covered with goose pimples, and she was shivering with arousal. She froze when she felt his hands on her hips, his fingers under the elastic waistband of her pale pink panties. He looked up at her, right into her eyes and paused, wordlessly asking for permission to remove them. Pauline knew this was going too far, but she was more sexually stimulated than she had ever been before.

"Take them off, Alan. Take down my panties," she told him, her voice weighted with equal parts excitement and worry. Alan slowly pulled them down, his hands caressing her thighs and legs as he eased them off. Pauline's breath caught in her throat, partly from the sensuousness of Alan's hands on her legs, and partly from her anxiety. No boy had ever seen this much of her, and confusing thoughts were running through her mind. She had always though she would be older than sixteen when she surrendered her virginity to a man, and that part of her mind wanted to stop this right now. However, whenever she did fantasize about her first intercourse it was Alan who was sharing her bed. In many ways what was happening in his bedroom was her dream come true.

She had had a crush on Alan since her first day of high school, when she saw him walking down the hall with his friends. She really hadn't seen very much of him since the year before because she had one more year of junior high after he had started at Truman, and she had been surprised at how grown-up he had become in that year, losing his baby face and becoming much taller. It was because of this crush that she joined the newspaper, and she waited almost three years for him to finally ask her out, despite the numerous hints she had dropped over the years. It was only because of Kate's meddling that their previous relationship dissolved, and now in a way she was getting a second chance to be with him. "If Kate hadn't interfered last fall maybe Alan would've taken my virginity then," Pauline thought, the idea warming her. At this point she knew that she wasn't going home a virgin tonight.

The feel of Alan's tongue on her vagina snapped her out her daydreams. The touch was electric, and she began to mutter his name over and over again, "Alan, Alan, Oh! What are you doing? Oh, that feels soo-ooo-oo goooo-ooo-oo-ooo-od." She was shuddering so hard it sort of sounded like she was trying to speak through a particularly bad case of hiccups. Alan licked the surface of her pussy, the tip of his nose gently pressing into her clitoris. Slowly he worked a finger into her, quickly feeling her intact hymen and putting a small amount of pressure against it. Pauline gasped at the pain of the stretching of the thin membrane, and Alan relented, causing her to sigh in relief.