People look at my wife and then they look at me and wonder why in the world is that gorgeous woman with him. Most would never believe the real reason; they assume that I have a twelve inch cock or a super long tongue, but the real reason is that I let her be what she is - an absolute slut. I give her love, a comfortable home and I let her be who she is.

Holly has always been a slut. She had her cherry popped by her stepfather. She liked it so instead of running to her mother to tell on him she spread for him anytime he wanted, and he wanted a lot over the next two years. Finally he (and Holly) got careless and mommy came home one day, caught them, and threw them out on their ass.

Holly went to live with an aunt and started dating boys and soon the word was out that Holly was an 'easy' piece of ass. By the time Holly was a junior in high school her reputation was well established - she was a slut with a capital S. Unlike some girls who put out because it was the only way they could get attention, Holly put out because she loved to fuck. I'd gone to school with her from the sixth grade on and, while we knew each other, I'd never been the recipient of her favors. There were several reasons for that chief among them the fact that I wasn't a very good-looking guy. Add to that the fact that I was very shy and not comfortable around girls and I also had the worst case of acne on the planet.

Holly and I had several classes together, we belonged to the chess club, we both worked on the school newspaper and while friendly, we were not exactly friends and we didn't travel in the same social circles. My circle was my fellow jocks; I was a letterman on the basketball, football and baseball teams and those are the guys I tended to hang with. Holly's circle was who ever was the latest to get her pants down and whatever circle he ran with.

We both did share something though - neither one of us got asked to many parties unless it was being thrown by someone we knew well. I didn't get invited because I wasn't comfortable around girls, and Holly didn't get invited because she was a slut and the other girls didn't want her around - or more specifically, they didn't want her around their boyfriends. The reason I wasn't comfortable around girls was that I'd been shot down too many times when asking for dates - not just shot down, but brutally shot down. Like the time I asked Betty Ann Metzler out, "Go out with you? (laughter) Me go out with you? (more laughter) You've got to be kidding." So I tended not to waste my time on girls and kept myself busy with sports and other school activities.

One afternoon while Holly and I were working on the school paper she asked me if I would do her a favor. When I asked her what she told me that there was a party that she wanted to go to, but she hadn't been invited so the only way she could go would to be as the date of someone who was. It just happened to be that this party was one of the few that I got invited to. The question was obvious:

"Why me? And why would you want to go to a party where you are apparently not wanted?"

It turned out that Holly had set her sights on a guy and the girl throwing the party was after the same guy and he was going to be there which would give the other girl 'an unfair advantage' as far as Holly was concerned. I just looked at her and she could see what I was thinking.

"No baby, it won't be that way. I go with you and I'll leave with you. I just want to be there to keep the playing field level."

I nodded my head, "So, I get to be the stalking horse?"

She winced and said, "Don't be that way baby. We've known each other far too long for bullshit. You never take a date to parties, and when you get there you and all the other jocks will gather around the beer keg and never move until it's time to leave. This party isn't going to be any different for you so you don't lose anything and you help me out. I'll owe you one."

I don't know who was most surprised at the party, everyone who saw that Holly was my date or me for the way the party went. I expected that I would be the 'key' to get Holly in the door and then I'd do just what she'd said - go over to the keg with the rest of the jocks. Holly had other ideas. She drug me out on the dance floor and kept me right by her side for most of the evening. I knew that it was so that the guy she really wanted would see us and maybe get a little jealous, but what the hell, I was having a good time.

About three hours into the party I walked away from her to have a few words with my buddies over by the keg and when I came back there was some guy I didn't know talking to Holly. I was set to walk away and give them some privacy when I noticed the expression on Holly's face - it was angry, very angry. The guy reached out to grab her and she smacked his hand away and he reached for her again. For some reason that pissed me off; what the hell was he doing messing with my date? I walked over just in time to hear him say:

"You ain't nothing but a fucking slut."

I tapped him on the shoulder and said, "Best you watch how you talk to my date."

He spun around and said, "Listen asshole" and that was as far as he got before my hand shot out, grabbed him around the throat and lifted him up on his tiptoes (the advantage of being 6'3" and two fifteen is the strength that goes with it) and I said:

"I may be an asshole fuck face, but I'm a meaner asshole than you are. Now apologize to my date and make me believe that you really mean it and you just might get out of here in one piece tonight."

He did and I set him down, but not before I said, "Best I don't catch you bothering her again. Next time I'll break your arm." As he retreated I said to Holly, "I sure hope that wasn't the guy you came here to see."

She looked at me and shrugged, "It was."

I looked at his retreating back and said, "Boy, you sure can pick them."

She stared at me for a couple of seconds and then smiled, "Oh I don't know. I picked you, didn't I? Come on baby, dance with me."

When we left the party and I was driving her home she sat silent until I pulled up in front of the house and then she said, "Why don't you like me?"

"What makes you say that?"

"I've known you for years and you've never asked me out. Tonight you take me to a party and then bring me straight home instead of parking somewhere and necking and then trying to have sex with me."

I turned to face her, "In the first place" and then I explained why I didn't bother asking girls for dates anymore. "Secondly, I do like you, I always have. We just haven't traveled in the same circles. Lastly, our date tonight wasn't a real date. It was just a way to get you to a place you couldn't have gone otherwise. As far as necking goes, I fully intended to try and kiss you goodnight when I walked you to your door. Who knows, we might like it and if we do I might be able to work up the courage to ask you for a real date."

I did kiss her goodnight and she returned it with a tad more passion than I expected.

Two nights later I saw her at a chess club meeting after school and I had drawn her as my opponent. We tossed for color, she won and surprised me by taking black. You always - always - wanted to take white so you could immediately go on the offensive. I opened with the standard pawn to kings four and asked why she had chosen black.

"To surprise you" she said, "That way you'll be a little off balance when I surprise you again by asking you to take me out of here and fuck me tonight."

She had accomplished what she had set out to do - she had most definitely surprised me. I looked at her, all thoughts of chess gone from my head, and all I could do was stare at her and ask why.