Chapter 3

A few nights later they took him to the drive-in movie with them. The small drive-in was one of the few left in the state and Randy wanted Trent to experience movies ala outdoors. The three sat in the front seat, Marsha between the two Kahn men. The movie was a stupid slasher flick with the usual blood and gore and victims doing the most idiotic things to put themselves in danger. They were all laughing half way through and would have become bored if there hadn't been a fair amount of sexual overtones and a couple of rapes as well as murders.

"How about something to eat or drink? asked Randy.

"A diet soda, please," said Marsha.

"Hot dog and root beer!" grinned Trent.

"Back in a minute," smiled Randy who exited the car and headed for the concession stand.

"You know, I could show you a lot better time than she's having," smiled Trent nodding at the screen where a Barbie-like blonde was having her clothes ripped off.

Marsha was stunned, unsure she had heard him correctly.

"What did you say?"

"You heard what I said. I can give you what you want, anytime you want it."

"Trent! That's rude and ugly. What if your father... ?"

"Hey, he knows I think you're hot. Too bad he doesn't think you're as hot as I do."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Just that he's told me your tits and ass are too big. Oh, not too big for me, but I guess you've noticed Dad likes his women young -- real young."

"I can't believe your father would have said..."

"Oh, come on Marsha, Dad said you're naive. Men talk about these things. He did say you were a pretty good lay even though you don't look much like a little girl once your clothes come off."

Marsha's mouth opened in astonishment at both the comment and Trent's hand which was suddenly on her bare leg and moving upward.

"Trent Kahn! Stop that this moment!"

"Come on Marsha, just a little feel. You know you like it."

"I most certainly do NOT like it. Now take you hand away!"

"Okay, okay. You wanna play hard to get. I get it."

"I don't want to play anything with you at all, young man!"

"You might as well just enjoy it 'cause Dad won't be back for a good while."

"What are you talking about? He just went in to get drinks and your hot dog."

"You'll see." He looked at her as if she were a child, the same way Randy often did. "You just don't get it, do you, Marsha? Dad said I could take a shot at you tonight when we were alone."

"He most certainly did NOT!"

"Wanna bet?"

"What are you talking about?"

"Okay, look. There's no line at the concession stand so, say five minutes to get the drinks and hot dog. We'll even allow a restroom break. Say another five. Which means that Dad SHOULD be back in ten minutes tops unless what I've said is true and he's giving me time to get in your pants."

"Trent!"

"Yeah, I know. Dad says I'm not very eloquent at times. But you are one very hot chick and I'd really like to nail you."

"Well it isn't going to happen!"

"Afraid what I said is true?"

"Of course it's not true!"

"But what if it is? Tell you what. If Dad is back here in ten minutes or less I'll drop the moves and you won't hear another word about sex the whole time I'm here. More than ten minutes and -- let's make it easy on you -- I get a kiss from that sexy mouth of yours."

"You can't be serious to think I'd..."

"Scared I'm right?"

"No, but..."

"Then take the bet!"

Marsha looked at the self confident, smiling boy. She should teach him a lesson and get him off her back, she thought.

"All right! You're on! But right now you keep your hands to yourself!"

"Agreed," he grinned.

And they both sat back to endure the awful movie.

Marsha had been sure Trent was bluffing and that Randy would return in no more than five minutes or so. Yet when six, seven and eight minutes had elapsed she began to wonder and the look of unease was evident on her face.

Trent was smiling. "Two minutes. I can already taste those lips."

"Be quiet!" she meant to scream but which came out more of a plea.

He looked at his watch.

"One minute," he pronounced.

She turned desperately to look back at the concession stand but Randy was nowhere in sight. She then turned to look down the rows of cars to see if somehow he might be approaching from another direction.

"I'm telling you, he isn't coming back for at least another fifteen, twenty minutes."

"But ... but..."

"Ah, time's up," he grinned.

"Wait, your watch is fast. I..."

"Okay, to show you that I'm a fair sport, I'll give you another full minute." Her heart which had suddenly speeded up began to relax a bit but its respite was not long. "Of course we have to add a little something to the bet," he continued.

"Add what?"

"Oh, let's just say that in addition to that kiss I get to cop a good feel if Dad isn't back in another minute. Otherwise I collect on that kiss right now."

"No, wait! All right, another minute!" she exclaimed. Anything to delay long enough for Randy to return.

But when not only one, but two more minutes had elapsed Marsha looked with defeat into Randy's smiling face.

"Come here, Marsha."

Reluctantly she scooted across the seat next to him. One arm came around her shoulder while the other hand cradled her chin and slowly drew her to him.

"You're going to like this -- I promise," he breathed.

Instinctively her hands went up to fend him off.

"Ah, ah. I won fair and square," he smiled.

Her hands fell to her sides.

"Trent, don't do this. What if your Dad were to..."

"I told you he won't be back for a while. Now take off your bra and panties."

"No, I can't do that."

"You have to. It was part of the bet. How can I pet that beautiful body of yours if you still have on your bra and panties."

"Trent, please..."

"No more evasion, Marsha. It's time to pay off your bet."

She thought about simply reneging on the bet, maybe even sliding back across, opening the door and escaping to find Randy, but Trent's arms were now firmly around her and she had no idea how Randy might react.

"Maybe just the bra," she begged.

"Both, Marsha. You'll love it."

"No, I won't..."

"Take them off!"

The boy's voice was no longer that of a fifteen year old, but of a man, firmly in charge.

Frightened by the sudden change in demeanor, Marsha quickly unbuttoned her blouse and bra and withdrew the undergarment which she laid on the seat.

"Good girl. Now the panties."

Even more reluctantly her fingers bunched the skirt around her waist and found the elastic top. Nervously she looked around to make sure that Randy was nowhere in sight and no one else was in a position to see. Her eyes closed in disbelief at what she was doing as the small cotton garment, just like what a preadolescent might wear was pulled down and off and deposited with the bra.