Chapter 1

An annual dinner that her rich parents, the Kristensens, gave around New Year's Day. A night of chumps in suits drinking brandy, smoking cigars, and patting themselves on their backs while the women gossiped and backstabbed to maneuver up the social ladder. The air saturated with enough forced friendliness and hidden verbal barbs to chock on.

It was the night that I had dreaded since me and Lizzie had first started going out earlier that year. I was a sophomore just getting the hang of college life in UCLA, she a beautiful freshman just starting her "four years of freedom", as she would always put it. We met one night when she dropped in the campus bookstore where I worked as a cashier to buy her textbooks. We got to talking, and immediately clicked. Although from different sides of the tracks, Elizabeth and I shared many common interests. It wasn't long before we started going out. Working from casual dates to movies to romantic candlelight dinners in the park, the relationship finally turned serious (and sexual). Wanting more, we considered moving from our present residences (me from the dorm and her from a shared apartment) to an apartment. Though it was a shared idea, she confessed a flaw in the plan one day at our preferred coffee house, JoJo's Jo.

"We're gonna have to get my mom's approval first," she said, chewing on her low lip. "I want to break it to her at the party. That'll probably be the best time." It was the first time she had even mentioned her mother in our four months relationship.

"You have parents?" I asked, feinting astonishment.

She let out a giggle and punched me playfully in the shoulder. "Of course, you moron. Where did you think I came from?"

"I've always wondered about the origin of this beautiful girl sitting in front of me."

"Shameless lecher," she grinned. "You could make a rock blush with that tongue of yours"

"I don't know about rocks, but you sure seemed to enjoy its talents last night," I teased. Now she was the one blushing profusely.

"Stop it. We're in public here."

I redoubled my efforts. "Stop it? I don't recall ever hearing that request last night. All I remember was someone poking my sides and whispering 'more' in my ear."

"Josh!"

"Well, I did! Every time I went back to sleep the insistent poking came back. I woke up this morning tired but strangely relaxed. My muscles should be exhausted from overuse. Or should I say 'muscle'?"

"Josh, you stop that right now!! You're making me blush!!"

"Actually, it should be 'muscles', shouldn't it? Isn't the tongue a muscle too?"

"JOSHUA SHEPARD STOP!!!"

I laughed. I've always enjoyed making her blush. The redness just seems to add to the radiance that is her face surrounded by luxurious blond curls. She possesses a beauty that, in my opinion, is best left uncovered by makeup. Makeup is only for people who lacked the loveliness or the self-confidence. Elizabeth lacked neither.

The clock tower toiled, signaling that it was approaching ten o'clock.

"Holy shit! It's almost ten! I've got a conference to get to!" She grabbed her jacket.

"Leaving, Cinderella? Are you gonna leave a slipper? That car of yours ain't turning back into a pumpkin, is it?"

She treated me to one of her famous warm-you-to-your-toes smiles. Her eyes, however, exhibited a gleam that betrayed her wicked intent.

Walking over to me, she sat down on my lap. "When are you getting back tonight?" she asked, putting her hand on my chest. Lazily, she traced circles with her finger.

I grabbed it and placed it on my lips. "I don't know. Is there anything for me to come back to tonight? I'll close up early if there's anything worthwhile at home." I swirled my tongue around the tip of her finger. She moaned softly, then lightly gasped as I gently sucked.

"I can't tell you. It's a surprise." She breathed into my ear. "But I will tell you one thing: it's definitely worth your while."

"Tell me. I LOVE surprises."

She giggled as she leaned back against me. As my face pressed into the gold mass that was her hair, I felt as if being embalmed alive in the sensuous smell of her shampoo. Honeysuckle, I think.

"If I did, then it wouldn't be a surprise, now would it?"

I gave no reply, concentrating instead on the neck that was before me. Planting my lips on the baby-smooth skin, I tenderly sucked. Unlike others, I abhor the idea of leaving hickies. I see it as a disgusting way of marking your territory. God! We men could be such dogs sometimes. I guess it's at least better than to piss on girlfriends.

I was rewarded for my efforts with a moan that was muffled by the hair around me, but clearly audible to the people around us. Retracting my face, I saw many giving us glances coupled by knowing smiles. Embarrassed, I started to get up. Knowing my intent, she pushed herself forcefully down on my lap. My will wavering, I hesitated. As a final blow, she shook her hair out behind her, flipped it into my face, and then over my head. Defeated, I resume my attack of her neck.

"Do a good job, little boy," she moaned, "and I'll be generous."

Interested, I began to frolic with gusto. Planting kisses all the while moving upwards, I flicked my tongue along the ridges of her ear. "And what would be the rewards for this task, my mistress?" I whispered lightly.

She twisted around bodily until she faced me. Gazing at me with those beautiful hazel-colored eyes, she whispered breathlessly. "This is the reward." And pressed those lips against mine. I kissed her softly, waiting seconds before moving my tongue slowly forward. Touching the insides of her lips, I ran it back and forth, all the while tasting the smooth membrane and feeling the back of my tongue rubbing against her teeth. I withdrew for an instant, then shot it forward once more. Her tongue darted out to meet mine this time, and I swirled the tip of hers with mine.

Sucking lightly on her tongue and lips, I nipped at them a little. Using my tongue like an instrument to taste her mouth, we both became extremely aroused. Though a sweater separated us, I still felt her nipples slowly hardening until they were like two pebbles pressed against my chest. Not to be outdone, my other instrument shot to attention, and strained uncomfortably against the fabric of my jeans as it pressed firmly against her thigh. I felt her smile with my lips.

"Well, well. I guess we aren't too tired from last night's excursions after all, now are we Mr. Shepard?" she teased, grinding herself against the hardness. I moaned.

"What about your conference?" I asked, though not caring one way or the other.

"Fuck it. I've found something better to occupy my time with."

We kissed some more. I stole a glance at the clock tower. Goddamn it, almost 10:05.

"Lizzie, I gotta go. Class starts at 10:20."

She pouted. "Can't you ditch it today? I've just decided to move your surprise from tonight to now."

I pouted back. "No can do. There's a test today. One that can't be missed." I added when she open her mouth again.

"Fine. Be that way."

I eased her gently off my lap. She flopped down onto an adjacent chair, crossed her arms around her chest, and looked away. I smiled at this picture of immaturity before me. Though nineteen, she can be such a baby when sulking. I walked over and hugged her from behind. She turned around.

"Come on. Don't be like this. Aren't you familiar with the concept of delayed gratification?"

"But that's more than eight hours from now," she complained. "That's too delayed, if you ask me."

I smirked. "You think it's going to be an easy eight hours for me? I gotta go through class and work with the North Pole in my pants."

She laughed, and it sounded like bells twinkling in the wind. "Well, maybe I could relieve some of the pressure for you... "

"Here and now?" I asked, letting my eyebrows arch up in challenge.

"Why not? There's tablecloth on this here table. I'll just get under and... "

I kissed her. "No. I'll pass. I don't want to be arrested for public lewdness."

"Oh! You're no fun!"

"Don't worry. You caused the swelling. There'll still be plenty of stress for you to work off tonight by the time I get back."

She blushed. "Oh, just get out of here. Get to class, you lecherous pig."

I laughed as I ran for the parking lot.

It wasn't long before I would start to regret turning down Elizabeth's offer. Sitting in class for two hours with a monstrous hard-on is not an easy task. I was not looking forward to it. In fact, this particular hard-on was now interfering with my ability to operate a vehicle. I stared down with displeasure. "You stay down!" I commanded sternly to my penis.

Yes, we men have this little problem; we like to talk to our penises. Some of us might even go as far as naming them, giving them ridiculous pet names like Richard (as in 'Dick') or the love machine or whatever else men could think of. I, however, am not that deprived. Though conversations with my male organ occur occasionally, the relationship is strictly owner-to-penis. It remains nameless.

I returned my attention to the road just in time to see a figure on a bicycle appear in front of my car. Cursing, I slammed on the brakes while twisting a hard left. The tires squealed in protest between the strain of stopping and turning at the same time. The distance seemed to trickle by like sand through an hourglass. Finally, the body of my car passed the bike, but not before the rear bumper grazed its tires. With a scream, the figure and the bike made a radical change in direction, and collapsed into a heap on the grass.

"SHIT!" I was out the door as soon as I can, not even waiting for the car to come to a complete stop. I ran to the mass of flesh and metal just as arms began to untangle itself from the bike. I threw the ruined bike aside.

"Ohmigod! Are you all right?" I shouted as soon as I located a head to shout to.

"Liegsss spkreained," the figure hissed.

I froze in confusion. "Excuse me?"

"I said 'Legs' sprained', you idiot! You don't understand English?" The figure tried to stand up, but immediately dropped heavily to the grass with a string of colorful curses.

"Here. Let me give you a hand." I offered my arm down to the form.

What I perceived as a head whipped back so fast that the hood of the sweatshirt fell away to reveal a tangled mass of long red hair. "You can offer more than a hand, you blind moron! You can offer me your home phone number and insurance company's name so I can call and sue your ass for running me down!"

Now I'm usually a pretty calm guy with the temperament of Gandhi and Martin Luther King Jr. combined. But with an important test that I am now ten minutes late for on my mind, I exploded. "Blind moron my ass! You're the one who practically asked me to hit you by riding your bike into my car! What the fuck were you thinking, crossing the road with a car coming toward you? You could've gotten yourself killed!"

The girl looked at me blankly, then started to tremble in sobs.

My anger melted away. The sobs sounded very young. In fact, she could've been anywhere from thirteen to sixteen. "I'm sorry. You're right. It was my fault." I've always been partial to a pretty girl's tears.

The sobs just increased. It wouldn't be long before it turns into a full-blown bawling. I had to stop it now before it did. Putting my arms around her, I cooed. "I'm sorry. Really, really sorry. Please don't cry."

After a few more sobs, I felt the girl quiet down to sniffles. I pulled myself away. "You all right now?"

"No. My ankle still hurts like hell, and I'm late for my errand."

That was when my test came crashing into my mind again.

"Oh, shit! My test! I gotta... " Damn. I can't leave her now. Not like this. "I'll take you to the hospital."

"I can't! I have to give something to my mom first. She'll be worried if I don't show up by 10:40."

Damn. More bad luck and delays. The nearest hospital is about ten minutes away. "It's ok. I'll deliver it for you after I take you to the hospital. Where does she work?"

"She doesn't work. She volunteers at the library."

Damn. That's about another ten minutes from the hospital. My test... "Ok. Let's go to the hospital first and make sure you're fine. Can you stand up?"

"I'll try." She made a valiant effort, but got a sharp pain for it.

"Never mind. Here, put your arms around my neck. I'll take you in my car." I picked her up carefully, avoiding the sprained ankle. Walking back to my still running car, I opened the passenger side door and gently placed her on the seat.

"Comfy?" I asked as I pulled off the lawn.

Grunt. "Still hurts," she replied in that little girl voice.

I raced to the hospital.

Carrying her to the front desk, I yelled for a nurse.

"Young man, this is a hospital. You can't simply run in and start a ruckus." The receptionist glared at me. "Take a seat."

"Look here. This girl's been hurt. She needs a doctor."