Chapter 8

Bob looked at the tall, powerful boy, thoughtfully.

"I suggest we go home and talk about it. I'm quite sure my wife would love to meet you."

Troy laughed.

"Do you want me to meet her?"

"Not particularly, but since men like you exist in the world, I guess I have no choice. My wife is just going to have to control herself."

"Did you bring your car?"

"That would be a bit of a slap in the face in this neighborhood, don't you think? I wasn't slumming."

Troy walked over to his Harley, and kicked it to life. He handed Bob a helmet.

"Let's go," he said.

Bob got on the back of the motorcycle gingerly, and they sped away, leaving behind a group of aghast boys.

They pulled up in front of the Jones's house, and Troy parked the bike.

Bob let himself into the house.

"June? I'm home!"

"Hello, dear! I'm in the kitchen!"

Bob walked out to the kitchen, the tall, booted boy following. His lovely wife turned around with an anxious smile on her face, which quickly turned to an expression of shock.

"Bob, what's he... ?"

"I invited him here."

"Oh!" June said in a small voice.

"Sit down!" Bob said, pointing to a chair. Troy sat.

"I suppose you drink?"

"Like a fish," Troy said.

"Listen!" Bob snapped, going to the cupboard to get a bottle of scotch, "I'm not playing any games with you. Don't play any with me."

June looked at her husband adoringly, and then at Troy with some fear.

Troy laughed. "I drink, moderately. I've never raped a girl, or hit one. I've never beaten my mother or my sisters, and once in awhile, I've been known to mix it up in a bar. I have, on occasion, been known to throw the first punch."

"Thank you," Bob said, sitting down with the bottle, and some glasses filled with ice. He turned to his wife.

"I brought him here because Cathy likes him. I cannot pretend that I don't know why. He's intelligent, honest, and industrious. The only thing that makes him different from Jimmy, is that he was born on the other side of town, and he has to work for everything he gets."

"You forgot something. My companions are different."

"No different than Jimmy's on occasion when he wants to swing, or Gerald or Whitey's, and who's that other boy who always hangs out over there?"

"Ron Biltmore," Troy volunteered.

"Yes. Now, Cathy has gone out with Wayne, and Ron. I don't know about Whitey."

"Whitey only goes out with girls who put out."

June was bewildered.

"What are your intentions with regard to my daughter?" Bob asked, pouring the scotch.

"Strictly honorable--until she's sixteen."

"Well, we have no choice in that matter, do we?" Bob said, handing his wife a glass of scotch.

June was very grateful for the liquor. She remembered her husband from his wild days, and to her, it appeared that he was getting just as wild in his approaching middle age.

"Why--why don't we have any choice when she's sixteen, Bob?" June asked her husband.

"Because Cathy apparently promised herself to him when he was sixteen."

"Oh, my God!" June exclaimed softly.

"Well, dear, we were at it at the same age. What did you expect?"

"Bob, darling, I don't know what to expect. Why did you bring him here?"

"Because he's a thorn in my side, that's why! Because my daughter, whom I love dearly, is pining for him. Because deep in my father's heart I know that somewhere along the line, if she feels that strongly, she's run amiss. I had to see what it was she liked."

"Oh!"

Troy laughed again. "She just wants a date for the senior prom," he said.

"I told you not to play games with me," Bob said, angrily, slamming his hand on the table.

"Forgive me. I'm in the habit of mocking. It's not true."

"Of course it's not true. She had a chance to go to the prom, and she turned it down. She wanted to go with you!" Mrs. Jones said.

"Well, that's why I brought him home. I didn't intend to bring him home. I just wanted to see what he was like, that's all," Bob said. "But I like him after all," he finished, taking a deep draught of the liquor.

"Dear, are you saying you want Cathy to go to the prom with him?"

"I don't want Cathy to go with anyone. She's fourteen. I'm jealous and possessive, which is typical of fathers. But yes, if Cathy wants to go to the prom, I'm quite sure the young man will take good care of her, and bring her home in one piece."

"And what about her reputation?"

"I have a feeling it will soar enormously, and she'll be the belle of the ball. Can you dance?" he asked Troy.

"Yes," Troy said.

"Why don't you call Cathy down?" Bob asked his wife.

June smiled at Bob, and covered his hand with hers, squeezing it fondly. She couldn't say, as she walked to the foot of the stairs to call Cathy, that she disliked the boy, and reputations were ephemeral things, easily made and just as easily lost.

He seemed solid enough. "Cathy? Cathy, dear?"

"Yes, Mom?" Cathy called, coming to the head of the stairs.

"There's someone here to see you. Come down."

"Yes, Mom," Cathy said, starting listlessly down the stairs. June walked quickly back to the kitchen, anxious to see her daughter's expression when she saw Troy sitting at the kitchen table.

"Do an old man a favor, will you?" her husband was asking Troy.

"What's that, sir?"

"Puh-leez don't knock her up. I'd like her to go to college. I knocked her mother up, and she's never found the time or energy to get her degree."

"Bob!" June gasped, as Troy laughed.

"Oh!" Cathy gasped. She turned slightly pale when she saw Troy sitting with her parents.

Bob rose from the table, filled his wife's glass and his with more scotch, and, carrying the glasses in one hand, he put his arms around his wife's shoulders with the other.

"Yes, Cathy, you can go to the prom with Troy," Bob said. "Mother and I are going to bed. Don't stay up too late, and leave the front lights on. God knows when your brother will be home!"

With that, Bob ushered his wife out of the kitchen, and up the stairs to their bedroom.

Cathy approached the table almost timidly. After her initial shock, it was like Christmas, and Easter, and her birthday, all rolled into one. She felt shy, and she blushed.

"Hello," she said, shyly.

Troy laughed, and reaching out one of his hands, he grabbed her wrist and pulled her to him. He sat her on his lap and looked up at her, his eyes glowing.

"Your father extracted a different kind of promise from me," he said, his voice husky, as he eyed her lush body.

"What?" she said.

"He said not to knock you up because he wants you to go to college."

"Well that doesn't absolve me from my promise to Mom."

"Oh, yes it does. I don't think you promised your mother you'd stay a virgin till you were sixteen."

Cathy blushed.

"How do you know that?"

"Because you're a lousy liar. You didn't say I could have your cherry when you were sixteen. You said I could have you. And no girl who sucks cock the way you do, is inexperienced."

"Oh."

Cathy was getting very nervous. She couldn't look at Troy. She toyed with his glass, which still sat, only partially drunk, on the table.

"What did you promise your mother?"

"I promised I wouldn't sleep with any of the boys in school."

"Absolved!" Troy exclaimed, laughing. "I'm not one of the boys at your school! Who got to you first?"

Cathy sighed. She bit her lower lip. She wasn't about to tell Troy, but she liked him so much, she didn't want to offend him.

"Hey! Don't you like me any more?" Troy asked, turning her head to face him. Cathy looked into his deep eyes, and almost fell into them.

She smiled, and put her arms around his neck. "Yes, I like you. I like you a lot," Cathy said softly.

Troy grasped her by her shoulders, and felt the tremor in them. He pulled Cathy hard against his chest. His mouth came forward and covered hers.

Cathy loved his mouth. It was beautiful, more beautiful than it had been when he had kissed her before. She felt his lips wandering moistly all over hers.

She opened her mouth, wanting more of him, and she felt his tongue snake into her mouth, the tip of his tongue flicking lightly against the tip of her tongue.

Then his tongue went wild in her mouth. He lashed it against the roof of her mouth, and flicked it along the underside of her tongue.

Cathy moaned against his mouth, feeling the warmth of her fluids seeping through her pants. She could feel the hard bulge of Troy's cock against her ass cheeks.

Troy pushed her forward slightly, off his cock.

Cathy wanted him in the worst way, and was suddenly very grateful that she had worded her promise in such a way that she did feel absolved from it.

Her hand went down to the bulge in his pants, and she pressed the palm of her hand into it.

"You want it?" Troy murmured, biting her ear lobe.

"Yes," she whispered.

"Then take it," he said.

Cathy's trembling hand unzipped the fly on his leather pants. She reached in, and gasped when she felt the throbbing hardness of his prick against her eager palm. She took it out, and pumped it a few times. Troy winced.