The Benefits of Friends - Cover

The Benefits of Friends

Copyright© 2012 by Memory Heap

Chapter 25: The Prom

Coming of Age Sex Story: Chapter 25: The Prom - We had been best friends since the day she was born. We had grown up together, played together, and learned together. Now, she was proposing that we teach each other about sex.

Caution: This Coming of Age Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including mt/ft   mt/Fa   Fa/Fa   ft/ft   Fa/ft   Consensual   NonConsensual   Spanking   Light Bond   First   Oral Sex   Masturbation   Petting   Sex Toys   Exhibitionism  

The day after the barbecue, I asked my Dad to do me a favour. I got him to help me rent a room at the hotel in which the prom was taking place. He didn't ask me many questions, simply assuming that some kind of party would be taking place. Of course, now that the day had arrived, he also knew that we were engaged, and it was obvious how the hotel room would be used. He had made the reservations through the hotel chain's web site, so that part of the preparations was easily accomplished.

With the graduation ceremonies over, we now needed to actually check in, and get the room key, so he and I were now on our way downtown to the hotel. After we had been driving for a few minutes, he looked over at me, and I could tell there was something on his mind. I looked back and raised an eyebrow, waiting for him to say something. I was beginning to think that I was going to have to start grilling him when he finally opened up. "You know I don't mind helping you out by renting the hotel room for you, but I do have to ask you, just out of idle curiosity, why you're going to the trouble."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, I know that prom night is the traditional time when virginities get exchanged, and wild parties happen, but that doesn't seem to apply in the case of you two. You've openly admitted that the virginity ship sailed two years ago, and you know that all of the parents are fine with that. So, why bother with a hotel room? I know that neither of your mothers would be completely thrilled at the thought of you two sleeping together under one or the other roof, but is it really worth the expense?"

"I think you just answered your own question. Neither mother would be thrilled at all ... but it's actually a lot more than that."

"How so?"

"It's a little hard to explain, but it boils down to the fact that we've woken up together any number of times, but we've never gone to sleep together."

"I'm not sure if that makes any sense."

"It's like this ... since the very beginning, when we first started to have sex ... that summer ... she used to sneak into my bedroom in the middle of the night, and climb into bed with me. I'd wake up in the morning, usually with her laying on top of me, or with me wrapped around her, and snuggled in close. Waking up like that is the greatest thing in the world ... even without the wake up sex." I had to pause for a moment to realize what I had just said. "Damn, it is so weird to talk to your father about having wake up sex with your girlfriend."

"I can understand how it would be good to wake up next to her; she is quite a woman. Why wouldn't you have that if you stayed home?"

"Because ... what we've never had, what we've never done, is to settle into bed, snuggle up together, talk a little with the lights off, and then fall asleep together. And we wouldn't really be able to do that at home, because we'd both be too nervous that somebody's mother would be about to open the door to check on us and make sure we're all snug in our bed. Of course, there's also the issue that we've never had sex in the house when someone was home. It can get a little loud, and ... uh ... energetic." I had to pause again because of the singular strangeness of this entire conversation; teenaged boys were not supposed to have conversations like this with their fathers.

My dad paused as well, and I guessed that he was absorbing what I had said. After another moment, he chuckled a little, then said, "It just hit me ... you're an old-time romantic. As much as you're a scientist, and ... forgive me ... a geek ... you've got the soul of a poet, at least when it comes to that girl."

I was momentarily stunned at his words, then laughed to myself as the thought sunk in, and I realized that I had to agree with him. "Yeah, I guess I might be that romantic. She brings it out in me ... I look at her ... that crazy hair, the green eyes and the freckles ... and I stop breathing. Being away from her hurts so much I don't know how I can go on until I can see her, and hold her again."

My dad was quiet for a long moment, then softly, his voice sounding a little choked, he said, "I know son ... I know. It was that way when I met your mother ... it still is, actually. I just don't tell her that often enough.

"That's one of the lessons I've learned already. You have to tell her that you love her, but it's not just saying the words. You have to show her, in all kinds of ways ... the way you touch her when you don't need to ... the way you look at her ... hugging her or kissing her when she doesn't expect it. It's all those things, and they all add up." I was getting a little choked up myself as I thought about her, and realized how much I was looking forward to what the night would bring.

Two minutes more and we pulled up in front of the hotel. At the registration desk, the clerk kept giving me a strange look as my father went through the usual administrative bits of the check-in process. I was fairly certain that I knew what was going through his mind since he could see that my Dad had a local address, and he was well aware that there was a prom going on in the hotel that night.

The biggest surprise came when my Dad ordered a bottle of champagne to be delivered to the room, and placed on ice at midnight. The clerk stared at me when he heard the request, and my Dad looked at me and said, "Your mother will really like the surprise when she and I get back to the room after the party has ended. Who knows ... maybe I'll get lucky if she has enough to drink."

I played along with the cover story he was fabricating. "Uh ... excuse me ... that's my mother you're talking about, and I really don't want to hear anything about your sex life. I may be a teenager, but I have no interest in what old people get up to when they're drunk."

The clerk's expression changed during this little byplay, and he quickly asked my father, "This room is for you and your wife, sir?"

"Well, yes, who did you think it was for?"

"I'm sorry, Sir, I misunderstood. There is a high school prom going on in the hotel tonight, and many of the students have been renting rooms. It usually causes us a lot of trouble because of the noise they make. Since this isn't for a prom booking, I'll make sure that your room is well away from the floors that we've been putting all the high school students on. I'm sorry for the mistake, but since you have a local address I incorrectly assumed that you were booking the room for your son."

"I understand the confusion. No, it's not for him. My wife and I are going to a surprise anniversary party down the street, and we just thought it would be better to stay in town at a hotel rather than worrying about driving or getting a cab once the party's over."

"Excellent idea, Sir. I wish more people did that ... and to make up for my mistake, I've upgraded you to a junior suite at no extra charge. I think you'll find the room more comfortable for you and your wife."

"Well, that wasn't really necessary, but I certainly won't turn the offer down. Thank you very much, but please make sure that the champagne is on ice, ready for midnight, with a couple of glasses."

"Not a problem, Sir. I've noted it for Room Service on your booking. They will have it ready on time."

My Dad finished signing the paperwork, and getting his credit card registered, then accepted the key cards and thanked the desk clerk for everything. We headed for the elevators to take a look at the room, not saying anything within range of the clerk's hearing. After the elevator doors had closed, I looked at him and started to laugh. "I didn't know you had that kind of deceit in you. Well played."

"I've still got a few tricks up my sleeve, and if I can't convince someone barely older than you are, then I should just quit." He handed me the key cards and said, "Well, let's see what my play-acting got you," as the elevator doors opened. We headed off down the hall, and I unlocked the door.

The room was very large, and divided into separate living and sleeping areas. The bathroom was decorated in various hues of marble, with a large whirlpool tub dominating one section. I had visions of the two of us delighting in each other's flesh while jets of hot water played over our bodies. Remembering who I was with, I quickly pushed the thoughts aside, but my father had already noticed the sudden hitch in my breathing.

"Yes, tubs like that are a lot of fun for two people, or even more when the mood strikes." I could hear the grin in his voice even without looking at him.

"There will be no more than two in it tonight, I can guarantee you. Once we leave the dance, all partying will be private."

"So, does this mean that I have to tell your Mother to cancel her plans for a hot tub and champagne evening?"

I spun to look at him, and saw the smirk in his eyes, and the crooked grin on his face. I was suddenly seeing a side of my father that was completely new to me, and I wondered if this was an indication of my acceptance into the adult world, even though I barely qualified. "Yes, and I don't want to hear another word about any plans that involve my mother and anything like a lack of clothing."

He burst out laughing, then clapped me on the shoulder, so I knew that I had not overstepped any bounds. We looked around the room for another moment, then turned and headed for the elevators in a companionable silence.

In the car on the way back home, we talked of inconsequential things, and I made sure to remind him to let me know about all of the charges on his credit card so that I could reimburse him completely when the time came. He seemed a little distracted, and I somehow had a feeling that he was trying to think of some way to plan a romantic evening with my mother.


In keeping with tradition, I had rented a tuxedo for the evening with all the normal trim of fancy shirt, bow tie, studs, and dress shoes. When I came down the stairs my mother was there with a camera, and my father was standing beside her, grinning. I rolled my eyes at him when he said, "Well, if she's half as pretty looking as you, then the two of you should make quite the cute couple."

"At least you're having trouble keeping a straight face while you make comments like that." His grin got wider at my remarks, and I resolved to just accept this side of my father's personality; it was either new, or I had not noticed it before, but I decided that I liked it. He had never been stern or harsh with me, but this seemed to soften him and make him more of a friend than a parent.

My mother's trigger finger had been hitting the shutter release on the camera throughout all of this, and I knew I had to get next door or her memory card would be filled in no time. I quickly retrieved the corsage from the refrigerator, and made my way to the front door.

Her mother was lying in wait for me, also with a camera in hand, although I did my best to avoid rolling my eyes at her. Her father came up and shook my hand, wishing me a good evening, then turned to let my love know that I had arrived. I was ushered into the living room to wait, but only a moment went by before I heard her enter the room.

I turned to look at her, and time stopped. I had never seen anything so beautiful, even counting the first time she had stood before me without her clothes on. Her eyes sparkled and swept mine into her gaze, and her soul. Her hair was partly piled on top of her head, then cascaded around her freckled face, and on to her shoulders, left bare by the cut of the dress. The neckline of the dress swooped between those wonderful breasts that I knew so well, displaying their inner curves. The material seemed to shimmer in the light, its colour a perfect match for her eyes and her tresses. The body of the dress molded to her curves as if it was nothing more than a layer of paint. Her legs were displayed by slits in the skirt of the dress, and I could see them perched on high heels; the heels were high enough that she nearly matched my height, and I briefly wondered when she had practiced walking in them. The entire effect simply left me stunned, and I stared in silence at her, lost in this vision.

"Breathe son, it's okay to breathe. She's still just the kid next door." Her father had leaned over to speak quietly in my ear, and his words finally broke the trance.

"No ... she's ... a ... she's..."

The object of my affection raised an eyebrow and said, somewhat archly, "I believe the word you are searching for is 'Goddess'." An instant later she lost the battle to keep a straight face, and started to giggle.

The giggle, and the sarcastic comment finally broke through to me, and I said, "She's the girl I am going to spend the rest of my life with, right after I put her over my knee."

Her father started laughing uproariously, while her mother looked a little shocked. The target of my gaze crossed her arms under those delectable breasts and said, "Promises, promises..." then she stuck her tongue out at me, and started to giggle once more.

I moved to take her in my arms, and kissed her soundly, then whispered in her ear, "You are stunning, and I love you." I stepped back and looked from the top of her curls to the tips of her new shoes, then locked eyes with her. "You certainly do clean up well, I have to say."

She reached out to straighten my bow tie, then placed her hand flat on my chest in a gesture I remembered from two years previously. "You're not so bad yourself. It's hard to tell you're that somewhat geeky kid from next door." She giggled again, then leaned in to kiss me quickly. "I love you."

Stepping back, she looked at her mother and said, "Haven't you taken enough pictures yet?"

Her mother had been snapping away the entire time, and finally lowered the camera. "I want to remember how pretty you look, so I can show my friends that I really do have a daughter, and not just some urchin who only wears t-shirts and shorts and comes home splattered in mud and holding a snake." She turned to me as she made the final comment. "I blame you for that, you know. You only ever taught her boy things, and she would never listen to me about being more like a girl."

I was a little surprised by the comment, but I could see that she was smiling, so I wasn't too worried. "Well, I never taught her how to pee standing up, so she isn't all boy."

"No, I learned how to do that all by myself." As her mother gasped and turned to look at her, that impish grin that I knew so well crossed her face, and she said, "Gotcha," then went into a fresh round of giggles.

Her mother put a hand on my shoulder and said, "Go ahead and spank her, with my blessing. Maybe she'll learn to obey you."

"Obey? Are you kidding? I can barely get her to listen to me, unless there's a collar and cuffs involved." Oops ... that slipped out without thinking. I need to be more careful here. I saw the look of concern on my love's face, but no one seemed to be reacting to my slip.

"Excuse me, but I am right here, and I can understand everything you're saying about me."

I pulled her back into my arms and spoke into her ear, but loudly enough that her mother could hear. "It's okay, dear, you don't have to start obeying until after you say the wedding vows." She started to struggle loose, her green eyes flashing at me, when I smiled and said, "Gotcha," then kissed her soundly. Her body language changed during the kiss, and I felt her relax into my arms, and return the kiss.

After a moment, I moved back and turned to open the box for the corsage. I reflected that most boys of my age would be very nervous right now, being this close to a girl's breasts while her parents were watching. Since I had spent a lot of time with those breasts, and her parents now knew about it, I was not nervous at all. The placement of the corsage proceeded properly, and I stepped back to survey the result.

She looked it over and pronounced her approval, then smirked at me. "You didn't even try to cop a feel; I'm impressed."

I heard her mother gasp again, and this time it was she who said, "I may have to spank you myself, just for being so rude."

"It's all right, Mom. He knows that I love him, and we talk to each other like this all the time." She reached for my hand, and we headed for the door. My parents were waiting outside talking to the limousine driver. As the parents greeted each other and the mothers gushed about their children, my love and I got into the limousine and headed for the hotel.


Before going into the dinner and dance, I took her upstairs to show her our room, and to drop off our 'morning after' clothes. We had each packed a small case with our more regular attire for the next day, so that we wouldn't have to wear gowns and tuxedos for a second day.

She gasped as we entered the hotel room, and wandered through the suite as if she were in a trance. "This is ... amazing, but it must have cost a fortune. You didn't need to do this." She turned and came into my arms, her eyes shining, and I held her tightly, breathing in the scent of her hair, and the subtle perfume she was wearing.

"It didn't cost anywhere near what you might think. The desk clerk managed to embarrass himself a bit, so he upgraded the room for free as a way to redeem himself. In the end, we got the benefit, and I wasn't about to do a dental examination on a gift horse."

"Hmm, I guess not. I love that you put this much thought into the evening. I feel like a fairy princess in this dress, and in this room."

"You look like a princess; I always knew that you were beautiful, but this dress just brings out all of the best things about you. The overall effect is just unbelievable. I really do feel like a loutish brute next to you."

She hugged me tighter, her face next to mine, and I heard her say in my ear, "You are my loutish brute, and no one else can have you. That privilege is reserved for me alone." She pulled back far enough to lock her lips on mine, and we kissed for an endless time, alone in the world.

Finally, as we started to run out of air, she said, "I think we either have to go downstairs, or start taking each other's clothes off. I did pay good money for this dress, and I would like to show it off a little. Besides which, I'm hungry."

"And I'm supposed to be the practical one. You are correct, milady; 'tis time to dine and dance and be among friends." I took her arm in mine, and we left the suite, heading for the elevator to the main ballroom.

The ballroom had been richly decorated, and was currently set for dinner, with a long buffet table down one side and various servers replenishing the food. A chef was poised at one end of the buffet, carving from a huge hip of beef. I led her down the line, filling her plate as we went, and topping it all off with a large slice from the hip of beef.

As we looked for a table, we were waved over by a group of friends, and ended up in the middle of a boisterous gathering of well-wishers. They were commenting on our valedictory address, and the reactions that they had heard from parents and teachers afterwards. The girls in the group were all quick to notice her engagement ring, and all mentioned that they didn't even know she had had a boyfriend until this evening.

We had begun eating, but she couldn't resist jumping in to correct the stories going around. "Well," she said, "I guess that just means that our plan worked out well." When she explained that we had been together for two years, none of the girls believed it at first, but gradually came to accept the simple truth of our relationship.

"What are you going to do about college?" asked one of the girls. "I mean, aren't you afraid of meeting someone else, and breaking up?"

Between bites, I jumped into the discussion. "There's little chance of that for several reasons. First, we're going to the same university. Second, we're going to live together in an apartment off-campus. Third, we're getting married next summer. Oh, and finally, we aren't interested in anyone else; we're soul mates, so there is no one else." I turned toward her, and was rewarded with a kiss for my efforts.

"Nice speech. I might actually decide to keep you around for a while."

As I gazed at her smiling face, something in the corner of my vision distracted me, and I swung my head to look. Involuntarily, I said, "Well, well, well. Will you look at that..."

Her head swiveled to follow my gaze, and I heard her gasp when she saw what I was looking at. A young couple had just entered the ballroom. In and of itself, that was nothing—it was the constituents of this couple that had grabbed my attention.

"Isn't that..."

"Jason Wu ... and Clara. I don't believe it."

"Should we go and say hello? Do you think it might be a problem?"

I paused for a moment, thinking about what might transpire. In the end, I decided that to ignore them would be very rude, and that I could likely weather anything that might be said inadvertently. I stood up and offered my hand to my love, and we headed off across the floor.

As we approached them, I could see that Clara was wearing stiletto heels, putting her head an inch or two higher than Jason's, although he seemed to care nothing at the height differential. While Jason was wearing an elegant tuxedo, and looked very dashing, Clara seemed to be dressed in wisps of smoke. Her dress consisted of layers of diaphanous material, draped in such a way that one couldn't tell whether they were seeing her naked flesh, or a pattern in the material. As I got closer, I could see that much of the dress was actually body paint, artfully worked with the material layers, many of which seemed to be glued to her body. What I had originally thought were patterns in the material were actually patterns in the paint on her body.

When we reached them, Clara turned in our direction and saw us for the first time. She squealed and threw herself at my love, hugging her tightly. I turned to Jason and put out a hand to shake his. "Jason ... good to see you, especially all dressed up." I looked over at the two quivering females, still wrapped in each other's embrace. "Although, we both kind of fade into the woodwork compared to our dates."

He grinned at me, and said, "Well, this is all your fault, since you introduced the two of us."

"I can't take credit for Clara—she is her own spirit ... but am I to take this as an indication that you two are a couple?"

"I think it's more like we've been welded together, and are one person. We've hardly been apart since the day we met. My father is ready to disown me, but I don't care. I've got a full scholarship to all the universities I applied to, so I can go anywhere I want without his money. For now, I want to be where Clara is, and she feels the same about me."

"Knowing Clara, it's probably a wonder that you can stand. I'm surprised she let you out of bed long enough to be here. Of course, it also gives her a chance to show off, and to show you off. That's quite the dress she's almost not wearing."

He actually seemed to blush at my comments. "Well, that's mostly your fault as well. You told her I was a virgin, so she has taken it upon herself to completely cure me of that condition, over and over again." He grinned as he said it, so I knew he was happy about the situation. "As to that 'dress' ... her original idea was to come wearing only body paint. It took me two days to finally convince her that she needed some kind of material in the mix, or we'd never be allowed in the door. As it is, I think every girl we've seen wants to scratch her eyes out for even daring to look that good."

I smiled back at him. "Well, she is certainly stunning, although Clara looks good in anything, including just cuffs and baby oil." The remark slipped out before I thought about it, and I turned to apologize to Jason.

He held up a hand to stop me. "It's okay man. I know all about that side of her life, and I've watched a couple of times while she's helped her Mistress work a couple of scenes. I also know that she considers you her Master, and I have no trouble with that. She's explained that the way she feels about me has no bearing on how she feels about you—that the two are separate compartments in her life. Oddly enough, I think I understand it all, and even odder is that it makes her even more attractive to me."

At that moment the subject of our discussion released my love from her embrace, and turned toward me. She stepped into me and placed her hands on my shoulders, gazing directly into my eyes, aided by the height of her stilettos. "Master, you look very handsome this evening. Is there any service that I may perform for you?"

I smiled and said, "It is hard for me to call you 'little slave' when you are perched on those stilts and can see me at eye level like this. I have to say that you look stunning; I think you may have found a new calling as a fashion designer."

"Thank you, Master. I am glad that you like the effect. Jason seems to like it as well."

"I think that Jason likes everything about you, and it is easy to understand why. You are a wonderful person, and I hope that you and Jason will be very happy together."

"Oh, thank you, Master. I do like him a lot; he's such a nice person, and I thank you for bringing him to me. Are you sure there isn't something I can do for you? I do wish that you'd use my body, because I know that I would enjoy it ... and I'd make sure that you do."

I kissed her on the tip of her nose, and said, "Save it for Jason. Show him what you'd like to do to me, but don't do it out here—keep it private, at least for his sake."

"Yes, Master, and thank you Master."

I turned her toward Jason, and handed her off into his arms with best wishes for a pleasant evening, then turned toward my own companion, and wrapped her in my embrace. "What was that all about with Clara?" she asked. "And why did she keep calling you 'Master'?

"Well, you know how Clara is ... she was trying to offer me her body, I think more as payment for introducing her to Jason than for anything else. And since her Mistress used to refer to me as 'young Master', I guess in Clara's mind the title has stuck." I hated lying to my love like this, but I rationalized that it wasn't really a lie, just a bit of an omission, since I didn't want to explain the whole story just yet.

"You introduced Clara to Jason? When did that happen?"

I looked at her blankly for a moment, then finally remembered that I hadn't told her how I had managed to sidetrack Jason from his plan to become valedictorian. At the time, I had just told her that I had handled it, without any details. "I'm sorry—I completely forgot that I never told you how I fixed the Jason problem. In short, I distracted him. I had him meet me at the toy store, and I introduced him to Clara. The rest, as they say, is history. Jason never knew what hit him, and after Cyclone Clara was through with him, he was no longer interested in becoming valedictorian."

She stared at me open-mouthed. I reached out a finger to lift her chin into position, but she continued to stare at me a moment longer before bursting into laughter. "You are an evil and cruel genius. That poor boy."

Looking over her shoulder at the two people in question, I said, "Well, it seems to have worked out in the end. They both seem to be head over heels with each other. Clara's already thanked me several times, and Jason feels the same way about her. So, I'm not so evil after all."

She came into my arms and kissed me. "I might even have to keep you around. You just may have some use after all."

"That's me ... the potentially useful boyfriend."

She started laughing, and just then we heard the band start playing, so she pulled me onto the dance floor. We spent the next couple of hours in each other's arms, doing something we had never previously tried. We discovered that we actually liked dancing with each other, although we decided that the slow dances were much more fun, as we could maintain close physical contact while we moved around the floor.

As the celebrations drew to a close, we walked around bidding friends farewell, including some close moments with Jason and Clara. I was a little surprised that Clara's body paint had survived the close contact of their dancing, and she laughed when I made the comment. "It's a new kind of paint that doesn't rub off easily, but will come off in the shower with some scrubbing."

"And are Jason's hands capable of providing just the right kind of scrubbing?" I jokingly asked her.

"Oh, Master, taking a shower with him is a lot of fun, although it usually takes a long time, and we both get kind of wrinkled ... but he makes me come so much that I can hardly stand it."

"Well, my little slave, it seems that you have taught him well in just a few weeks. I hope the two of you make each other very happy for a very long time." She pulled me in for a deep kiss, and stepped back only after she heard someone clearing their throat beside us. I knew just who it was, and she had a huge grin on her face when I could see her behind Clara.

"Well, I thought it was my body you wanted, not his." In the next instant she got her wish as Clara spun and surrounded her in a full embrace and filled her mouth with her tongue, their lips mashing together. I could see Clara's hands moving toward my love's ass to pull her in even tighter, and waited to see how long the kiss would last.

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