A Geek Grows Up - 2. Chapter 2

James McLeod's moving day was something of a trial for his young
brother Stephen: His father Neil had probably caught him wanking off
in bed when he had stuck his head round his son's bedroom door.

"Come on. Wakey wakey. We've got to get your brother moved today".

Stephen snatched his hand away from his cock - leaving a telltale tent
in the blankets. "Okay! Okay! I'll be there in a minute".

"Whew that was close!!!" Stephen mumbled to himself as he got out of
bed and waved his hardon at the reflection in the mirror.

The bad start got worse once he'd shot a load, showered and
dressed. Stephen was worried what James was going to do after the
previous night's confrontation. He rather nervously knocked on
James' door.

"Can... Can... Can I come in" he stuttered?

James snatched the door open and glared at Stephen, "What do you want
poofter?"

Stephen's heart sank, this was going to be bad. "Uhhhmm. Ahhhh. I was
wondering", Stephen subsided in embarrassment. He didn't know how to
ask if James was going to tell their parents Stephen's big secret.

"What I'm going to do about last night?" James finished Stephen's
question.

"Ahhhmmmmmmm, yeah." Stephen mumbled.

"Well little poofter. I'm not going to do anything"

"You're not?", a puzzled Stephen asked "Why not?"

"I realise it would be kind of fun to torture you a little, but I'm
not a complete arsehole you know; and anyway, I don't need the whole
world to know that my little brother is a homo. So I'll keep quiet and
I'm sure you'll keep quiet."

"Ahhhhh....thanks (I think)".

"So little poofter, why don't you go get breakfast, and then"

"I wish you wouldn't keep calling me that" Stephen interrupted.

"What? Poofter? Homo? but that's what you are. You're a cock sucking
little poofter."

"No I'm not" Stephen whispered fiercely. "I told you I've never
done it"

"Yes; but you sure wanted to last night". James grabbed his own
crotch showing off the outline of his cock through his jeans. "Hell
even now, if I were to drop my jeans, you'd be on your knees begging
me for a taste of this. Wouldn't you?"

Stephen turned away, trying to hide his embarrassment. He knew that
his big brother was right. He'd fantasised about his older brother and
his big cock for months. Even after the previous night's confrontation
the sight of his naked athletic body and the memory of that one
fleeting lick on James' cock had fuelled this morning's wank. Stephen
admitted to himself that he was seriously attracted to guys; but he
rejected all those labels that had been applied to him with such
ferocity.

            *    *    *    *    *

The actual move didn't take long, James didn't have a lot of stuff to
move. Dad and James were setting up James' bed in his new bedroom, and
Stephen knew he'd just get in the way if he tried to help. So he went
to see how Andrew was getting on in his room next door.

"Oh hi, just what I needed. Can you help me put these up?" Andrew
asked, pointing to a set of three large posters lying on the unmade
bed.

"Sure thing, what are they?" Stephen asked, moving over to take a
look.

Andrew froze, hardly daring to breathe. Getting these posters for his
new bedroom was the most daring thing he had ever done. This was the
first time someone was going to see them. They were a set of 3 mildly
pornographic black and white posters, 36in by 28in landscapes. The
first depicting a nude man, lying in the front of a rowboat, looking
out to sea. The sun catching the definition of his calf, buttock and
shoulder muscles.

The second showed another male nude lying on his stomach on a double bed,
peeking through the blinds at something out the window. The contrast
of dark tanned upper body and untanned bum captivated Stephen.

The third showed three muscular men in a communal shower, water
running down their backs highlighting the contrast between dark tanned
bodies and legs and untanned bums.

All three photos were highly erotic, concentrating on showing off
muscular male bodies, without showing cock or balls. Stephen was
captivated.

Eventually, Andrew broke the silence. "Well? What do you think?"

"They're beautiful". whispered Stephen, without lookup from the
posters that were now spread out on Andrew's bed. He couldn't pull his
eyes away from the middle picture of the guy lying on the bed, peeking
through the blinds, his mind went into overdrive "I wonder if he's got
a hardon? maybe he's perving at some cute guy outside?"

"So you like them then?", asked a relieved Andrew. "Do you think James
will like them?"

Andrew's second question bought Stephen back from his reverie. He
thought quickly; judging from James' reactions last night, James
wasn't going to like them very much at all. In James' words Andrew was
very definitely 'A queer homo poofter' who liked looking at men's
bums. How could he warn Andrew to be careful without letting on how he
knew? Stephen really hoped Andrew hadn't moved in with James with
ideas about getting him into bed.

"Uhhhhmmmm. He's not too keen on gay guys." Stephen prevaricated, "I
saw him freak out pretty bad when one made a pass at him." Stephen
hoped that was warning enough. He looked at Andrew, and smiled,
trying to soften the blow. "But I like them. I like them alot. I'm
wondering what the guy on the bed is peeking at through the blinds."

Stephen busied himself with helping to hang Andrew's posters. He hoped
this sudden burst of activity would ensure Andrew didn't notice the
hardon that had sprung up in his jeans. "We'd better get them up on
the wall where they belong. Have you got a chair for me to stand on?"

Stephen and Andrew got the three posters hung on the wall. At one
stage Andrew brushed his hand across Stephen's bum, and gave it a
gentle, questioning squeeze while Stephen was up on the chair. Stephen
squealed in mock horror and turned his head to look at his
admirer. Andrew gave his bum another squeeze; Stephen could see the
desire in Andrew's face. This was serious!! Andrew wasn't fooling
around. He was really making a pass at him. Andrew wanted him!!!

Stephen was sorely tempted to give Andrew the okay, tell him "Don't
stop.", to give a moan, push his bum back against that gently squeezing
hand, anything to let him know that he wanted more. But he couldn't.
Admitting he wanted it was one thing; encouraging it and letting it
happen was too much. He didn't want to hurt Andrew, but he had to say
no. How to do it without hurting his feelings?

Andrew, relieved that Stephen wasn't objecting to his ministrations,
grabbed Stephen's bum with both hands.

"Not here! Not Now! Dad & James are in the next room! We better not
start anything we can't finish" Stephen whispered

"Yeah, better not." replied Andrew, taking his hands away.

When the job was done, both boys were still sporting noticeable bulges
in their jeans. They both stood there, staring at the posters and each
other. The two boys didn't know what else to say, when the brother's
Dad, Neil McLeod, walked in and saw the posters.

"I say! They're a set of beauties aren't they?". Neil looked at the
two boys, and noticing the telltale bulges he decided to tread very
carefully. Andrew was obviously telling the world he was gay, and his
son Stephen was totally captivated.

Stephen walked back across the room, to stand beside his Dad and
looked at the posters again. "Yep. They sure are." Stephen said, he
was relieved his dad didn't seem upset at him perving at the pictures
of naked men.

Neil let the silence last a little while longer; he thought that maybe
Andrew would say something and that would prompt Stephen to confess
his big secret.

In the deafening silence, Stephen toyed with the idea of saying
something like "Well Dad, you don't seem upset at us standing here
looking at pictures of naked men.". His dad didn't seem to be in the
slightest bit nervous, let alone upset or angry. Maybe he should just
come out with it? Stephen desperately wanted to know what his Dad was
thinking.

But in the end Stephen remained silent and after a few seconds looking
at the pictures, Stephen and his dad said their goodbyes, leaving
Andrew in a state of trepidation, of what James' reaction would be
when he saw the posters.

"So what did you think of Andrew putting up those posters, son?", Neil
asked as he drove them home to lunch.

"Well that sure is one way to tell everyone you're gay. You do know
that he's into guys don't you?"

"Yes, your mother and I have suspected for a while. We're pretty sure
James isn't, which is going to make things interesting for a while in
that house."

"Yeah I suppose it will." Stephen was getting nervous; the subject of
who was and wasn't gay was too close to home. He realised that he had
probably given the game away by unashamedly appreciating Andrew's
posters when his dad had been right there.

Neil observed that James and Andrew didn't really have any choice,
they couldn't afford to live alone, and their pride wouldn't let them
admit defeat and move back home. He didn't press Stephen to discuss
his obvious attraction to Andrew's posters. He'd given Stephen a
number of hints that it would be okay to admit that he was attracted
to guys, and very probably gay. But it was obviously still a step too
far. Stephen could remain in the closet until he was ready to come
out. And god knows it was going to be difficult enough when he finally
did.

            *    *    *    *    *

Academically, Stephen had never had to work particularly hard in order
to progress through school. 50% was a pass and would allow him to
graduate to Form VII - the last year of high school. So why put all
that extra work in to get 80% or 90%?

In mid summer, the week after his 17th birthday, Stephen's exam
results arrived. Stephen wasn't confident he'd passed. Both his
parents were there watching as he played with the government issued
envelope. "Well here goes." he muttered, opening the envelope and
reading quietly.

"Well come on, read it out" said his mother, Alice, growing impatient.

"English 45%; Maths 54%, Science 53% French 50%, German 47%" Stephen
read out.

"Not exactly outstanding! What's the rule for moving to Form VII?"
asked his dad.

"Ummm....English plus three subjects have to be more than 200."
replied Stephen he started adding up his marks. "45 and 54 that's 99
plus 103 that's 202. Whew !!! Got there!!! Man that was close!!"
Stephen flashed a cocky grin at his parents.

"Yes you got there! But how much more could you have got if you'd
actually studied for once in your life? Hmmmmmm?" his Dad asked.

"Ummmm. Probably should've averaged in the mid 70s I suppose" Stephen
replied meekly.

"Exactly! If not the 80s and 90s! Far too much time on those
computers and not enough time studying, young man!" Alice admonished her
son.

The oft repeated discussion on Stephen's future plans and his need to
actually study for once in his life lasted for a while, and ended with
Stephen's usual, somewhat hollow promises to study more and play on the
computers less.

Stephen and David spent the remainder of the summer almost completely
in each other's company. They would go on long bike rides, during
which they set the world to rights in long and earnest
conversations. Usually their destination was one of the city's many
swimming beaches, where each of the boys would carefully wrap a towel
round his waist while they wriggled out of their clothes and into
their speedos. On a couple of occasions Stephen, hoping it would lead
to some illicit sexual activity, let his towel 'slip' giving David an
eyeful of his equipment.

Once, Stephen went so far as to grab his cock and gently tug on it,
while staring David right in the eye, unashamedly inviting him to join
in, and jerk off. Although David was sorely tempted, and even licked
his lips at the thought of tasting Stephen's rapidly hardening cock,
he couldn't muster the courage to respond to such an open invitation
so he ducked his head pretending he hadn't seen it. Stephen shrugged
his shoulders, and stuffed his now rock hard cock into his navy blue
speedos; if David wasn't going to respond to an invitation as blatant
as that, then he'd better keep his hands to himself.

            *    *    *    *    *

Life for Stephen during his final year at high school improved
greatly. Form VII was for students intending to go on to university
so the thugs that'd made his life a misery for the last 4 years had
left school and Stephen's life at the end of Form VI.

Also, he was lucky enough to score one of the plum jobs available for
high school kids; helping a local milkman deliver bottled milk around
the houses in a neighbourhood across town during the early hours of
the morning. He rapidly got used to getting out of bed to be picked
up at 5:00am. The pay for 3 or 4 days a week gave him more than
just pocket money and was way better than delivering newspapers. The
strenuous work carrying crates of milk around, as well as all the
running required to get the job finished before school, meant that
Stephen's body filled out; his stomach was firm, his arms had real
definition as did his legs. He wasn't a jock, but he certainly looked
good.

At the end of one lunchtime, in mid-winter the Headmaster strode into
the school's small computer lab. The twenty or so boys clustered around
the eight TRS-80s, all scraped their chairs back and stood politely
waiting for the Headmaster's acknowledgment. Boys were all supposed to
stand as a mark of respect whenever any teacher entered the
room. Mostly, this school rule was ignored; boys would make to stand,
and embarrassed teachers would wave their hands telling them to sit
before anyone had actually managed to stand up. But when the Headmaster
was on the prowl, wearing his academic gown, it was a foolish boy who
didn't stand and wait for acknowledgment.

"Thank you boys. Could the boys from Forms VI and VII please remain,
I've got something to discuss with them. Juniors off to class."

The juniors all left, the eleven remaining seniors took a seat, looking
at each other, silently asking "What's all this about? Who's in
trouble this time?"

"Now then boys, you can all relax, nobody's in trouble." The
headmaster could read the nervousness in their faces. "I've just had a
strange phone call from the Polytech."

He went on to explain that the Polytech's Computer & Software
department had cancelled a block course. The lecturing staff were
offering to run a replacement course next week for the boys in the
high school computer club. Who wanted to go? and what subject matter
did they want the course to cover? Parents would have to agree for
their sons to miss up to a week of school to attend the course.

Of course all the boys wanted to go. They quickly decided that they
wanted to learn about writing programmes in machine language. They
already knew how to write in BASIC, but the really fancy games that
they all enjoyed the most were written directly in machine language;
that was what they wanted to learn about.

The following day, the Headmaster was back in the computer lab; The
polytech people had agreed to run a four day course teaching them
about machine language programming. The course would be held on Monday
through Thursday of the following week. There was room for all eleven
of them.

The excited boys hardly heard the rest of the Headmaster's speech "You
will be wearing school uniform and you will all be on your best
behaviour. Now then, take these parental approval forms home, and get
your parents to sign them; have them back with my secretary by
Friday." The headmaster smiled and left the lab.

"Wow. This is gonna be so cool" Stephen was almost yelling in his
excitement. "Just think, four whole days off school to learn about
computers. Real stuff, not just playtime BASIC like we do now!!!"
Stephen's friend David and the others all agreed, next week was going
to be so cool.

The headmaster heard the excitement burst out in the lab behind him
and he smiled knowing that his decision to allow the course to go
ahead was the right one. Every student had the ability to excel at
something, these oft overlooked, at times troublesome boys now had
their chance to excel.

Stephen could hardly wait for his parents to get home. They just had
to agree and sign the form. Neil McLeod had barely put his briefcase
down, when he was assaulted by his frenzied son.

"Dad, Dad!!! You've gotta sign this. There's a polytech machine
language course next week. I wanna go on it. Please, Please Please!!
You've gotta sign it." Stephen thrust the form at his dad.

"Hey calm down. What's all this?"

"Come on dad, hurry up and read it. It's all there. Come on just sign
it." Stephen's excitement was barely contained.

"Well, well. Hmmm... four days, computer programming in machine
language... at the Polytech." Stephen's dad read the form half
aloud. "I take it from the excitement that you really want to go on
this course then?"

"Ohh please, Dad!! Just say yes and sign the form!!!" Stephen
begged.

"Well all I can say, is that you're a lucky, lucky bastard. I wish I
was going with you." Neil got a pen from his desk, and signed the
precious form.

"Yes!!!" Stephen shouted, grabbing the signed form and running to the
phone; he had to tell David.

"No! David can't come to the phone, he's been grounded." David's dad
replied to Stephen's request to speak to David.

"What do you mean grounded?" Stephen asked.

"He came home with some rubbish about a polytech computer programming
course, and when I told him he wasn't taking four days off school for
such silliness, he threw a temper tantrum. So you can see him
tomorrow at school, and please don't come around this weekend, David
will not be available." the stern voice continued.

"B B B But it's not rubbish." Stephen tried to intercede for his
friend.

"What you and your parents think of this rubbish is entirely up to
them. Needless to say David will not be attending. Good evening."
Stephen was left holding a dead telephone receiver.

"That is so unfair." Stephen shouted as he slammed the receiver back
down.

"What's unfair?" his dad asked.

"David can't go on the course. His dad thinks it's rubbish. David got
so upset and angry that he's been grounded as well." Stephen looked up at
his dad.

"How can they do it to him dad? Computers are the only thing David's
any good at, like me, and they won't let him do this course?"

"Well, you're right it does seem unfair." Neil commiserated with his
son, "David's parents don't value his interest in computers, and I'd
hazard a guess that they don't know their son very well." Neil calmed
his son, pointing out that if they got involved, it would only make
things worse for David.

When he saw David the next morning, Stephen asked him what had
happened.

"I gave dad the form and asked him to sign it." David told his story:
"He flat out said No. I wasn't taking four days off school to waste my
time on computers. He accused me of spending far too much time here at
your place on your computer. He went on and on; said you and I were a
disgrace because we'd barely passed our Form VI exams. He finished by
saying that I'd bloody well better pull my socks up and get a decent
set of exam results this year, or I'd never get into law school."

"So how did you get grounded then?" Stephen asked.

"When he said I'd never get into law school, I flipped out. I told him he
was fucking crazy if he thought I was going to law school. Told him
I'm doing computer science like you."

"You never swore at him?" Stephen asked David in wonder. David's
family were very straight-laced, and swearing at his parents would be
a pretty big crime in their household.

"That's what got me grounded." David grinned sheepishly. "The stupid
old bastard's already rang the headmaster and told him I'm not going
on the course. I have to be home by 4pm today and I've gotta stay home
all weekend."

Stephen, along with the rest of the computer club loved the course. It
spurred him on, he knew for sure, that this was what he wanted to
study when he went to University next year.

                              * * * * *

With the impetus provided by the computer course at the polytech,
Stephen started to study properly, and surprised himself by finding his
final set of school exams rather easier than he had expected: English,
both kinds of Maths - Calculus & Statistics - French and History.
There was just one more ordeal - graduation week - and he would be
done with school forever.

For Stephen, the week's main event was not the final assembly and
prize giving, he wouldn't be getting any prizes. The main event
occurred the evening before: The Leavers Ball. The high school prided
itself that this was no senior prom held in a badly decorated assembly
hall, closely supervised by teachers and parents to ensure good
behaviour by all.

Rather, it was a proper black-tie sit down dinner & dance held at a
function venue in the city, with no visible supervision by teacher or
parent. The headmaster would be present, and would give a suitable
after dinner speech, congratulating the boys on completing high
school, and admonishing them to go out into the world and achieve
something. It was in fact, quite a social occasion, boys without
girlfriends would find themselves besieged for weeks beforehand by
various female acquaintances, friends' sisters and sisters' friends
all eager to be invited to the biggest social event of their
year. Stephen withstood the pleading hints from neighbours, and
David's younger sister. He wasn't actually intending to go to the
ball at all, but his parents convinced him to go and his mother ensured he
got a properly fitted tuxedo at the suit hire shop.

Being unaccompanied, Stephen and David were seated at a table with the
rest of the dozen or so lepers who had arrived alone. They enjoyed the
dinner, and endured the headmaster's speech. Once the band started
playing, the furniture was re-arranged and Stephen found himself
standing with David and Margaret, a friend of David's family.
Margaret had dumped her nominal date as soon as she decently could
after the dinner & speeches.

"So are you here alone then Stephen?" she asked after David had made
introductions.

"Yes, I didn't get too many requests for an invitation, and none I
wanted to take up"

"So who did you eat dinner with then?" she asked, wondering if Stephen
was worth bothering with.

"Oh I was happy enough, they put all us social retards together out of
the way," Stephen pointed to the far corner, "where we won't cause
embarrassment."

"Well now's your chance to prove you're not a social retard at all." A
warm smile crossed her face as she lightly ran her hand along
Stephen's forearm.

"I guess it is. Who did you arrive with?" Stephen replied, wanting her
to do that with his arm again.

"Oh one of the rugby team guys." she gestured to the Rugby team boys
who were busy getting drunk from concealed hip flasks. "I think his
name was Alan something or other."

"Oh!" panic crossed Stephen's face, he didn't want to be the object of
an enraged jealous rugby player's anger. "Wh...Wh...What do you think
he's gonna do when he sees you over here talking to me?" Stephen
wasn't just worried; he was scared. Any one of those rugby guys would
use their fists if they thought he was trying to steal the girlfriend
of one of their own.

"Nothing. He's already got two so-called ladies batting their
eyelashes at him. He only invited me because he didn't want to eat
dinner with....." Margaret stopped mid-sentence, a horrified look on
her face.

"Us social retards?" Stephen completed her sentance. "It's okay, we
all know that we're the social retards that couldn't even get a girl
to pretend to be a date for one evening."

"Ohhh I'm sorry! This conversation isn't going too well is it?"
Margaret was nervous, she was usually calm and collected. But this
handsome friend of David's had her completely flustered. She wanted to
flee back to the safety of her friends among the rugby team.

Part of Stephen wanted to give a nasty bitter reply, telling this
strikingly beautiful girl to leave him alone, and choose some other
social retard as the object of her silly teasing game. He wanted to be
vicious and cutting, and ask her outright if he was the object of some
cruel game of 'Hunt the Nerd'. He scanned the rugby team, hoping to
catch the girls checking on Margaret's progress with humiliating
him. No-one was watching them, so he dared to hope that this girl was
truly interested in him. So he took her hand in both of his, flashing
her a nervous smile.

"Pretty badly actually. Shall we start again?"

Margaret relaxed, and told herself to concentrate as she ran her free
hand along Stephen's arm again, and watched his slight squirm as a
tingle ran up his spine. She was now holding both of his hands in
hers. "I think so." she smiled meeting his blue eyes with her green
ones. "So do they call you Stephen or Steve?"

"The family calls me Stephen but David here calls me Stevie. And you?
Are you just Margaret or some other name like Marge, or Meg?"

"The family calls me Peggy but I'm just plain Margaret to everyone
else."

As the two teenagers stood holding hands, nervously smiling, having a
much better second attempt at getting to know each other, David
realised that two was company and he was making a crowd so he moved
away. He was upset, he'd only introduced Margaret to Stephen to be
polite. She had been the object of his masturbatory fantasies for
weeks. He had wanted to ask her to the ball himself, he'd even got his
sister to act as go-between. But Margaret had politely declined, she
had already accepted Alan the rugby player's invitation.

Oblivious to the effect their continuing conversation was having on
David, the couple continued exchanging snippets of information: She
was an only child, living with her Father, her mother having died when
she was 6. He was the younger of two boys, with parents very much
alive. She was hoping to go med-school, he was staying at home to
enter the country's first Computer Science program at the local
university. He would be 18 in four weeks time, hers wasn't for
another 3 months. They soon ran out of easy conversation but neither
wanted to let go of the other's hands.

"Come on, let's dance" said Margaret after a moment's uncomfortable
silence.

"Uhhhmmmm, I don't dance." replied a horrified Stephen, who was
desperately trying to figure out how to keep his complete lack of
dancing ability from Margaret. He didn't want to ruin whatever was
happening to him by showing off just how uncoordinated he was on the
dance floor.

"Nor do I." lied Margaret, she was a skilled dancer. She dragged
Stephen to the dance floor saying "Besides, this is a 'Leavers Ball'
so you have to dance". Margaret deftly guided Stephen into place,
putting his right arm on her hip, and taking his left in her
right. "Keep those hands there, and you'll be fine." she whispered in
his ear as she placed her right hand on his waist. It wasn't quite
lady-like, she was supposed to place her hand on his shoulder, but she
couldn't lead her new catch around the dance floor from there.

Stephen's deepest fears did eventuate; by half-way through the second
dance lots of people were watching, but it was because he and Margaret
made such a good couple. He never noticed the crowd staring at
them. They were enjoying themselves. They stayed together for 4
dances, laughing, whispering and staring at each other. Margaret
giving Stephen gentle instructions directing their progress around
the dance floor; Stephen relaxing and enjoying holding this beautiful
girl in her green evening gown next to his body. Neither of them
noticed David glowering in the corner.

David wasn't just upset now, he was jealous: How could his best friend
steal the girl of his dreams from under his nose like that?
Particularly when Stephen was usually so damn nervous and tongue-tied
whenever he was around any other girl. But not this evening! Oh No!!
Something had transformed Stephen from the nerdiest geek in the hall,
into a charming gentleman. He wanted to go over and interrupt them,
cause a scene, do anything to stop what was happening over there. But
it was too late. The thunderbolt had struck them. Even if he did
interrupt them, Margaret wouldn't switch her attentions from Stephen
to him.

Realising there was nothing to be done, David sat down at an empty
table and waited until the couple had finished dancing and were once
again sitting across the table from him, still holding hands and
staring at each other.

"If you two are quite finished over there!!" he finally got their
attention.

"Oh David, we're sorry. We did rather get caught up in each
other. Didn't we?" Margaret smiled at him.

"Yeah Dave. I'm sorry. We didn't mean to leave you like that. But
ahhhh... did you want to dance with Margaret?" Stephen hardly looked
in David's direction as he spoke.

"No mate, it's alright." David admitted defeat. "I'll just say
good-night to you both. You two make a really good couple."

David stood up and went over to a mystified Stephen. "I mean it.
Everybody noticed you two out there. You're meant for each
other. Don't blow it mate." David slapped Stephen on the back, and
turning to Margaret he smiled and told her "Don't let him get away."

"I won't" she replied, squeezing Stephen's hand.

With that, David left, knowing he had done the right thing. It still
hurt, but it wasn't their fault.

"Ummmm... what was all that about?" Stephen asked Margaret.

"I think David wanted to be the one out there dancing with me, rather
than you." Margaret said.

"Oh." replied Stephen, still not really understanding. "I mean,
Ohhhhhh" as he slowly figured out some of what was going on. "I think
I'm going to have to thank him sometime."

"Yes you will have to. He was a perfect gentleman. He could've made
such a terrible scene. So while you're practicing your gentleman
skills why don't you go and get us a drink?"

Margaret watched Stephen cross the room, and fetch two glasses of
non-alcoholic punch for them. She compared him to her last 2 rugby
player boyfriends, and liked what she saw. "Hmmm... maybe good looking
with brains is better than a muscled stud without brains?" she thought,
as Stephen returned with the drinks.

The rest of the evening passed in a whirl, Stephen was dragged from
group to group, with Margaret's proprietorial hand letting all the
girls know, 'This one's mine girls'. Stephen loved the attention;
being paraded around by this beautiful girl was good for his ego.

When, at the end of the evening, the dances became slower, Stephen and
Margaret were on the dance floor again. They were dancing slowly,
staying in one spot, arms wrapped around each other, gazing into each
other's eyes.

Stephen wanted to kiss this vision, but how would she re-act? Dare he
risk it? He stopped moving, held her closer to his body, staring with
renewed intensity.

Margaret didn't flinch. She knew what was about to happen, and she
wanted it. She also knew that one wrong move from her would cause him
to drop her and flee. She had to encourage him, and help him get over
his fear, without scaring him away.

After a moment's further hesitation Stephen gave her a gentle, chaste,
questioning kiss. "Is this okay? Do you want me? May I have another?"
it asked of Margaret.

Margaret joined into the kiss, she relaxed, fitting her body to
Stephen's, letting her left hand slip from his waist to squeeze his
bum. Her tongue slipped through her lips, and gently, fleetingly
played with Stephen's. "Of course this is okay. Of course I want
you. Of course you can have another." Stephen had his reply.

They parted, their eyes sparkled at each other.

"I....." Stephen whispered. Did he love her? It was too soon to
tell. 'I want you.' would be more truthful, but crass.

"Shhh....I know." Margaret placed her forefinger against his
lips. "Don't say anything, just hold me."

They held each other silently for a few minutes, and finally parted,
Stephen holding her right hand in his left. "Let's get out of here?"
he suggested.

"Good idea." Margaret replied, "Do you have tickets for the after
party?"

Oh god!! The after party!! Stephen's mind reeled.

The traditional post-ball Bacchanalia: Kegs of beer, bottles of hard
spirits, loud music, stupid drinking games, drunkenness, fighting and
who knew how many virginities would be lost in the seedy pre-dawn
hours. The after party was organized by the rugby players and to be
brutally honest, they wouldn't have sold Stephen a ticket if he'd
tried to get one. He didn't even know where the after party was being
held.

"Uhhhhh. Aaahhhhhhhh. Ummmmm. No. I was going to give it a miss. It's
not really my scene." Stephen mumbled almost inaudibly. "Oh god!
This is it. All the girls want to go to the after party. She's gonna
dump me now for sure." he thought, as he waited for the bombshell to
be delivered.

"Great! Let's get out of here." Margaret said, with obvious relief.

"You mean? I thought...." Stephen started a question.

"...that all the girls wanted to go the after party?" Margaret
finished the question. "I can't think of anything I'd like less! Is
there anything worse than watching a whole pile of rugby players
drinking 'til they spew?" Margaret was not a typical high school
girl.

Stephen led Margaret out of the function venue, and signaled to the
doorman for a taxi. When it pulled up, the doorman opened the back
door, waiting to assist Margaret into the back seat.

"Didn't you drive tonight?" she asked Stephen; she had been hoping for
a romantic drive the long way home around the beaches. She might have
even got Stephen to park at a quiet spot so they could walk along the
sand.

"My dad won't let me drive at night yet. He says I need more
practice." Stephen's reply was out of his mouth before he could think
about it.

"Oh god. That was so uncool. I am such a dork!!! This time she is
just gonna dump me. Get in the taxi and zoom off without me." he
thought.

"Well come on then." She got into the taxi. "You are going to see me
home aren't you?" she flashed a smile at him; the romantic drive past
the beaches might be off, but she wanted Stephen.

Stephen trotted round the back of the taxi, and got into the back seat
from the other side. "Is that alright?" Stephen asked, still worried.

Margaret grabbed hold of his hand, and gave it a reassuring
squeeze. "Yes it's fine. At least your Dad shows that he cares about
your safety." She gave the taxi driver her address, and turned back
to Stephen, "Some of us aren't that lucky."

During the 10 minute ride, Stephen nervously tapped his hand on the
door handle; what should he do when he got there? Ask the taxi to
wait, and just quickly walk her to the door? If he paid off the taxi, she
would know he wanted to kiss her again and just be with her? Would she
let him? He wiped his hand on his trousers, trying to clear his sweaty palm.

The taxi pulled up at an aging four story art-deco apartment
block. Stephen got out, and assisted Margaret out. "Aahhhmmmm...
uuuuhhhhh...." he half started to tell the driver to wait for him.

"Pay him," She whispered, "you can get another taxi home later".

"We're on the top floor." Margaret took Stephen's hand and led the
way. "Sorry it's a bit of a hike." They walked up the six flights of
stairs, in silence. Stephen getting more and more nervous, wondering
what was going to happen next.

For the first time that evening, Margaret was also getting nervous,
she wondered what state her father would be in this time. As they got
to her door, Margaret couldn't resist teasing Stephen just a little.

"Well here we are." She said brightly, holding his hand and looking
him in the eye. Challenging him to make the first move.

"Uhhh..yeah" Stephen was the proverbial rabbit caught in the headlight
glare of large truck on a dark country road.

Margaret took pity on him. She swiftly manoeuvered him backwards across
the landing, and pressed him up against the stairwell balcony with her
hips. Then she moved in and kissed him. This was no chaste,
questioning gentle kiss. It was a lustful, heaving sexual act. She
held his head in both her hands, plastered her body against his, and
kissed him. This time, there was nothing fleeting about her tongue, it
demanded entry to his mouth, running across his teeth, dueling with
his tongue.

Stephen recovered from his shock, and wrapping his arms around her
held her against him and pushed back with his groin. They both moaned,
broke the kiss for a quick breath and went back to it, their hips
thrusting and grinding against each other. Stephen's cock had sprung
to attention; Margaret could feel it poking her midriff.

They came up for air a second time. Margaret stepped far enough away
from Stephen to run her hand down his body and wrap it around the
bulge in his trousers.

"You better be careful with this." She whispered, as she gently
masturbated him.

"Ohhh god!!" Stephen gasped. He was seconds from blasting a load into
his rented tuxedo.

She gave his cock a final gentle squeeze, and she kissed him again
gently. "Remember, whatever happens with my father in the next few
minutes, I'm yours and you're mine.", taking her hand from his cock
and grabbing his hand in hers she continued, "Well!!", she took a deep
breath "It's now or never. You'd better meet the father."

Stephen detected her nervousness, and tried to lighten the atmosphere,
"Is it going to be that bad?"

"You'll see." she replied, as she unlocked the door and guided Stephen
inside.

They walked down a short passage, and into a small but tidy living
room.

"Hello Peggy. Who's this you bought home?" a short, balding,
overweight man slurred from an easy chair in front of the TV.

"Damn! He's awake!" Margaret muttered to Stephen, her worst fears
realised.

Margaret's father was drunk. He wasn't slightly inebriated, or merry,
or half-cut; no euphemism was appropriate. He was falling down drunk.
When he stood up to shake hands with Stephen, Stephen had to hold him
up while he steadied himself. He then disappeared into the kitchen,
with a slurred instruction for them both to stay there.

Stephen and Margaret sat down on the sofa. "So that's why you didn't
want to go to the after party?" Stephen held her hand.

"Exactly! I've got a drunk for a father; I don't need another drunk
for a boyfriend." she replied, bitterly angry with her father; even
though she'd known he would be in this state.

Before the pair could talk further, her father lurched out of the
kitchen and weaved his way across the room to Stephen holding two cans
of beer. "Here you go boy. Get this into you. It'd be rude to let me
drink on my own." he grinned widely, amused as only a drunk can be,
at his own weak joke.

"Yes it would be rude." Stephen replied, taking the can and opening
it. He took a token sip. He saw the look of horror on Margaret's face,
and whispered to her "Don't worry, I know the score." as he put the
full can of beer on the floor beside him. Margaret heaved an inward
sigh of relief; one of her previous boyfriend candidates had attempted
to match her father drink for drink. It seemed Stephen had brains as
well as looks.

"Hey Peggy, what happened to that rugby player? Whash hish name?
Alan? Didn't he come and take you to the ball? Why'd you come home
with this one instead?" Margaret's father gestured vaguely in
Stephen's direction with his recently opened can.

Margaret explained, that Alan had only been her excuse to get into the
leaver's ball, and she much preferred Stephen to Alan. Her father was
confused:

"Then why didn't Stephen come and pick you up?"

And so a very strange meet the father session commenced. Whenever
father had finished a can of beer, he would heave himself up from his
easy chair, and lurch his way to the kitchen to retrieve another pair
of cans. Upon his return, he would hand one to Stephen and plop
himself back in his easy chair, to watch TV and sporadically talk to
Margaret and Stephen.

During the father's first reeling trip to the kitchen and back,
Margaret frantically whispered details of her father's descent into
alcoholism after her mother had died.

"Usually he would be passed out in his bedroom by now, and we'd have
had this place to ourselves." she finished. Margaret glanced quickly at
the kitchen door. After making sure it was closed she grabbed Stephen,
pulling him into a passionate kiss, again holding his head in
her hands and dueling with his tongue.

When the kitchen door opened, revealing father carrying another two
cans, the disheveled pair separated. Margaret managed to
surreptitiously drag her hand across Stephen's cock and along his
thigh, making him give a sharp intake of breath.

They endured three more stretches of strained conversation, during
which they held hands and stared at each other not really paying
attention to the father. Whenever he was looking at the TV, they would
steal kisses, allowing their hands to roam furtively, each trying to
elicit a quiet moan of pleasure from the other.

Three more trips to the kitchen for another pair of beers gave
Margaret short periods during which she could masturbate Stephen,
while she nuzzled at his neck.

She had never been this forward with a boy before. The most she'd ever
done, was a simple chaste kiss at the door, without any body contact,
before she left them standing. But Stephen was different; she didn't
know what had come over her, but she wanted him with a ferocity that
scared her. She had derided other girls who acted like this on a first
date. They were sluts, but she didn't care. She willed her father to
pass out, to go to bed, anything that would leave them to each other.

Stephen wasn't thinking; he just lived for the moment as Margaret
continued to kiss and masturbate him.

Each time, Stephen was saved from an embarrassing orgasm, by father's
return from the kitchen clutching another pair of beer cans. Stephen
would politely take the offered can, and put it unopened on the floor
before pretending to take a sip from his open one.

On the fourth trip Margaret admitted defeat, "He's not going to pass
out any time soon. I'm so sorry. You'll have to go." She whispered
sorrowfully to Stephen, dragging him to his feet. She scribbled her
phone number on a slip of paper, and thrust it into his jacket
pocket. She didn't expect he'd be ringing her back, after the
disastrous end to the evening. "Shall I call you a taxi? Or will your
dad come and get you?"

"No it's alright. My place is only about a mile away, across that park
and up the hill" Stephen pointed out the window. "It'll only take me
20 minutes to walk it."

Margaret initiated a final lengthy bout of passion, pressing Stephen
up against the back of the apartment door, feeling his cock pressing
up against her. When they came up for air the third time, she pushed
him out the door and closed it firmly. She hoped he hadn't noticed the
tears that were beginning to run down her cheeks. Horny, frustrated,
and in tears she put Stephen's unopened beers back in the fridge and
took herself to bed. She didn't expect to hear from Stephen again.

Stephen walked slowly down the stairs and out of the apartment
block. He was savouring the passionate kisses, the feeling of her body
grinding against his, the smell of her perfume, the taste of her
mouth. He absent-mindedly reached into his trousers, and adjusted his
still hard cock, placing it more comfortably up against his
stomach. His thumb slipped inside the foreskin, and he scooped out a
gob of pre-cum. It was a good thing Margaret had pushed him out when
she had, he'd been very close to cumming during that final session
with him pressed up against the apartment door. Savouring the smell
and taste of the slimy smear on his thumb, Stephen headed for home.