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-------------------------------- Welcome to the Church of The Right
Reverend Cotton Mather.  This story is the sole property of the author, and
may not be copied or downloaded for the intent of profit.  Permission is
freely given for anyone to download or copy for their personal pleasure or
use, as long as there is no intent to charge money or barter for the
privilege of acquiring this material.

   ( 2001, Rev.  Cotton Mather



   HARD PROMISE Rev.  Cotton Mather



   - 4 After our last home game the whole gang was invited to a party at
Brittany and Jared Felson's house.  Brittany was a junior on the
cheerleading squad, and her brother was our star running back.  Since
everyone was going to be at the game, we agreed that we would go to
Fabrice's for our usual post-game pizza, and then head over to the Felson
house.  That would give Brit and Jared time to get home and get things set
up the way they wanted before everybody showed up.

   At the pizza parlor, Melissa was nervous about her parents finding out
about the party, even though her curfew had been extended for this evening.
She ended up calling home from Fabrice's so that her mother could hear all
of us in the background.  This way, according to Melissa, her mom wouldn't
think she was with just one boy, but was safely enjoying herself in a large
group.

   We headed over to the party.  Brad and Lindsey were only going to stay
for a little while, and then they were heading off to one of their secret
hideaways by themselves.  They promised to be back at the party in plenty
of time to give Missy and I a ride home, as usual.  We got to the house as
two more cars pulled up, and the whole large group of us walked in and
joined about 20 kids already at the party.  We found where the sodas and
snacks were put out, and helped ourselves before wandering off to find some
of our friends.  The radio was playing and there were some kids dancing in
the family room.  We chatted and goofed off with a bunch of people
scattered throughout the family room, kitchen and living room of the first
floor, until somebody mentioned that there were more kids in the finished
basement.  We found the stairway and went down into a large room, lit only
by one light by the staircase and a few scattered candles.  There was a
stereo playing softly, and we could see that this was a much quieter crowd.
There were a couple of groups of kids, but mostly this was the "couples"
area.  Once our eyes adjusted, we could detect couples scattered on the
floor around the perimeter of the room, taking advantage of the
surroundings.  We stopped to talk with some friends by the couch for a
little while, but it was plain to both of us that we were drawn toward an
empty dark corner.

   Eventually we found our way over to the corner, taking our sodas with
us. We sat on the floor side by side and watched the dynamics of the room
for a little, occasionally commenting on some surprising pairings that were
being temporarily created by the tides and eddies of the party.  I slipped
my arm around Missy, pulling her closer to me.  She rested her head on my
shoulder, her hand resting casually on my knee.

   "We're nearly alone again," I said softly to her.  "Are you still
afraid?"

   She turned to look up at me briefly, and then relaxed back against me.
"Not yet," she replied.

   I cupped her chin in my hand and gently lifted her head up and leaned
down to give her a tender kiss.  She reached up with her right hand and
tangled her fingers in my hair behind my ear as we kissed.

   "But then, we're not exactly alone like we were last time," she said
with a smile.

   "True," I agreed.  "But I don't think anybody is paying any attention to
us anyway," I added.

   She looked up at me seriously for a moment.  "And a good thing, too,"
she said as she pulled me down for another kiss.  We both slid to the
floor, facing each other.  Missy was next to the wall and I had my back to
the room as we rolled into each other's arms.  Our kisses became sweeter
and hotter and more demanding as the room, and its other occupants, seemed
to dwindle away from us.

   Once again my hand found the bare skin of her lower back under her
sweater, a sensuous strip of nakedness that created a delicious heat in my
solar plexus.  I knew that this was not the place to continue our
explorations of before, so I contented myself to this small pleasure.  As
her tongue and mouth became more insistent, I felt her reach down to my
belt and tug my crotch into hers as she once again wrapped her leg around
mine.  My rigid cock, standing up in my jeans, pressed against her pubic
area.  It seemed like I could feel the heat and moisture emanating from her
crotch, and the sensation went right to my bloodstream, making my cock even
harder, making my hips rub into her.  Her hips started to bump into me,
creating an exquisite pressure pulsating between us, and I lowered my hand
onto the firm cheeks of her ass and pulled her into me.  She moaned into my
mouth, and sucked my tongue into her insistently, and reached down to the
small of my back with both hands and clenched me tightly to her.

   I don't know if it was a conscious decision on her part or not, but she
had chosen to wear a pair of cotton blend pants with an elastic waistband
this evening.  The harder, thicker material of my denim jeans only had to
transmit through two thin layers of cotton to create a rough and intense
rubbing sensation against Missy's virginal slit.  Almost without volition I
slipped my hand under the elastic of her pants, and under her silken
panties, to caress the bare skin of the ass I had admired for so long.  As
I ran my hand down onto her butt, she broke our kiss and pulled my lips to
her throat.  I kissed and licked her from her ear to the base of her
throat, thrilling to the softness of her skin, as she held me even tighter
and jerked her hips into me.

   All of a sudden she tensed, then frantically rubbed her pubic bone
against my erection, and her breath caught in her throat.  I looked up at
her to see her eyes wide and unseeing, her bottom lip caught between her
teeth, her face tensed up in anticipation.  She rubbed against me, and then
her hips gave me one more hard bump.  The force of that last jerk caused my
erection to hit and glide across her flowered pussy lips, stimulating her
clitoris, and it sent her over the edge.  She bit down on her lip harder,
and she started to let out a squeak that climbed the register, until it
became a soundless exhalation.  My hand on her smooth ass pressed lower and
harder until I could feel the secretions of her orgasm soaking her panties
and oiling my fingertips.

   As she slowly relaxed and came down from her high, I slipped my hand out
from her pants and hugged her to me.  She rested her cheek on my shoulder
for a moment, and then lifted up to kiss me softly and sweetly.

   "I guess I got a little excited there," she whispered.  "Are you okay?"

   "Oh, yeah," I said softly.  "I'm probably going to walk funny for the
rest of the night, but other than that I'm okay.  Maybe even more than
okay."

   "Oops," she said sheepishly.  "Am I leaving you in pain?"

   "It's okay, kiddo.  Nothing that about an hour in a cold shower won't
cure."

   She reached down between us and rubbed my erection through my jeans for
just a second.

   "I don't think that's helping," I said to her in a bit of a panicky
voice.

   "No?  I'm sorry, Ray, it's just that all this is new to me.  Am I doing
something wrong?" She had a worried tone in her voice that calmed me down,
even as her hand kept on running up and down my erection.

   "No, you're doing something too right, but please stop.  I'm going to
have an accident in my pants if you don't," I said as I held her hand still
on my rampant cock.

   "I don't want to be the source of your discomfort, Ray.  What would you
like me to do, considering the surroundings?"

   "What I'd like to do is continue what we've started, but somewhere else.
Considering the surroundings, though, I guess I'm just going to have to put
up with blue balls for the time being." Missy looked hurt at that, so I
hurriedly added, "I'm just kidding, Missy.  I'm really fine...or at least I
will be in a minute."

   I smiled at her, and gently removed her hand from my crotch, then kissed
her again.  We sat up against the wall and looked for our sodas.

   "Was that the first time you've cum?" I asked her quietly.

   She blushed and lowered her head, and looked up at me shyly through her
eyelashes.  "Well...not the first time I've cum...but the first time I've
had help."

   "Wow, really?  I'm glad it was me, then, who was here to help you."

   "I'm glad, too," she replied.  She had a mischievous smile on her face
that made her look very wise and very sexy.  I wondered what she was
thinking.

   When Lindsey and Brad came back to the party, they were both breezy and
friendly.  I, on the other hand, was suffering from a bit of sexual
deprivation, brought on by our session in the basement.  Missy grabbed our
coats, along with Brad's keys, and told Lindsey that we were going to warm
up the car for them, and suggested that she and Brad take their time.

   We got out to the car and Missy started it up and put the heater on
high, then climbed into the cold back seat with me.  She immediately
wrapped me up in a hug.

   "I'll try to make it up to you sometime, Ray, I promise.  Be patient
with me, okay?" she whispered.

   I put my arms around her and bent down to kiss her.  She pulled my arm
from around her waist as we kissed, and took my hand in hers.  She then
placed my hand on her soft breast underneath her coat, and then dropped her
hand onto my thigh.  My cock immediately inflated to capacity and began
throbbing.  Still kissing me hard, she moved her hand up to rub my erection
through my pants.  I could feel the precum bubble out, moistening my
underwear, just at this almost incidental contact.  As she stroked my rigid
cock, I squeezed her breast, feeling her nipple expand and poke through the
layers of cloth.  Missy unzipped my pants and reached in to pull my fat
cock out through the opening in my shorts.  It was my turn to groan and
moan as my temperature climbed and my swollen cock pulsed in her tiny hand.
She looked over my shoulder and saw Brad and Lindsey walking out of the
party, so she lay down on the back seat and rested her head on my lap,
facing the seat.  She grabbed my coat and pulled it down to hide my
erection, and brushed her hair across my lap.

   "Tell them I'm tired and that you think I might be asleep," she said to
me quietly, a gleam in her eye.

   Brad and Lindsey got into the car, and glanced at us in the back seat.
In answer to their unasked question, I told them that Missy had fallen
asleep, tired from the long week.  They looked doubtful, but turned around
and started driving off without comment.

   Missy, meanwhile, had not relinquished her grip on my turgid cock.  As
soon as she felt the car moving, she resumed stroking me, taking care to
cover her movements as much as possible.

   For my part, I was having considerable trouble keeping quiet during her
ministrations.  I was breathing through my mouth, trying not to scream out
loud, as the sensations coursed through me.  She was inexperienced but
enthusiastic, and I had been on the edge for hours at that point, so the
end was near.

   Suddenly I felt my balls constrict, and I clutched Missy's upper arm in
warning.  She was prepared, though, and continued to stroke me as I started
to cum.  She held a wad of tissues in her hand over my cock as I spurted,
her other hand continuing to milk me.  As the last feeble spurts pulsed,
she removed the soaking tissues and gazed at the drops of sperm spilling
down from the head to land on her fingers as they were wrapped around me.
She reached out with her tongue and licked the drops off, tasting a boy's
cum for the first time, then lowered her lips around the head of my flushed
cock, covering the entire head, and sucked hard.

   I very nearly lost it right there.  My eyes nearly popped out of my head
from the sensation her sucking caused, and my hips pressed up at her.  She
held the pressure of her lips on me for a moment more, then pulled my cock
slowly out of her mouth and licked her lips as she looked up at me with
laughing eyes.  She tucked my deflating cock back into my pants and relaxed
back down into my lap and closed her eyes, pretending once again to sleep
until we got to her house, where she slowly raised up, as if groggy, and
said good night to Brad and Lindsey.  She kissed me and held me close.

   "I didn't want to leave you to suffer from blue balls.  Good night,
sweet dreams," she whispered to me.

   I was astounded.  It was the last thing I expected to happen that night.
I was thinking that I would be jacking off half the night trying to relieve
myself from the party, fantasizing about Melissa, instead of enjoying a
post-orgasmic laziness in the back of Brad's car.

   She surprised me that night, and I think that was the first time I
started to think that I might be in love with her.





   - 5 "Hey, Doofus!"

   I turned around at hearing the familiar voice.  Jared Felson was walking
toward me down the hall.  His locker was just down from mine, and we often
stopped to talk before our first-period class.

   "You talking to me, Shit-for-Brains?" I grinned at him.

   "Shit for brains?  Me?  I'm not the one who's got the brown eyes, oh
observant one."

   "Just because the eyes are brown doesn't mean I'm full all the way up to
there with bullshit, like a certain overconfident running back I happen to
know," I shot back.

   "Hey, not overconfident, just sure of my abilities," he replied. 
"Besides, I'm not the one who was walking out of the party Friday looking
like I was constipated and in some serious pain," he added with a grin.

   "Well, that was Friday, and I'm feeling right fine on this Monday
morning, but thanks for your concern," I said.

   "So, Ray, what's up with you and the delectable Miss Melissa?  Brit
tells me you guys disappeared into the basement for quite awhile, and
didn't hardly come up for air."

   "You know," I said, looking up and down the hall.  I really didn't want
any eavesdroppers on this conversation.  "I saw your sister down there too,
but I'm surprised she even noticed us.  She looked like she was too busy
liplocked with Donny to pay attention to anything else."

   Jared looked pained when I said that.  I knew he wasn't terribly fond of
Brittany's boyfriend.

   "Ah, shit, you had to go and tell me that, didn't you?  Well, at least
it was our house, and there were a bunch of us around.  That little fuck
wasn't gonna try anything much with most of the football team there.  I
just wish Brit would get tired of his skinny ass soon.  I'm tired of his
smirks, but I can't kick his ass while she's still hanging on to it," he
said.

   "Maybe she just needs a little of the good lovin' from the Ray Machine,"
I said to him, giving him my best Groucho Marx eyebrow shimmy.

   "Nope," he said with a smile.  "You're too tall and big for Brittany. 
She likes 'em skinny.  Besides, the Ray Machine is, I believe, in the
process of being wrapped up and stamped with a big 'Hands Off' sign by
someone else in a letter sweater."

   "Does this mean that Melissa is coming off your list now, buddy?" I
asked.

   "No way!" he called back as he walked toward his first-period classroom.
"She stays on the list until she finds out what a true doofus you really
are, and decides to try the obvious quality of a star running back
instead!"

   "Ain't gonna happen, Jared.  She doesn't know any quality running
backs!"

   We waved at each other across the sea of heads starting to fill the
hallway as we went our separate ways.





   Later that night I just couldn't resist.  I was tired and cranky from
doing homework and not being able to talk to Missy.  Fuck it, I said to
myself, and I called Melissa's house.

   "Hello?" It sounded like her mother had answered.

   "Hi, is Melissa there?"

   "Who is calling, please?" She sounded suspicious.

   "Um, this is Ray.  I'm in her Algebra class, and I have a question about
our homework," I said.

   There was a pause.  "Just a minute," she said.  I heard the handset hit
something hard.  There was a loud thunk, then silence.

   A small voice came on.  "Hello?"

   "Hi, it's me," I said.

   "What are you doing?" she fiercely whispered.  I think she had her hand
covering her mouth and the microphone on the handset.

   "I just wanted to talk to you.  I told your mother I had a question
about Algebra."

   "Algebra?" she said louder.  "Just a minute, I'll get my notebook."
Then, quieter, she whispered, "Don't hang up."

   After a couple of minutes I heard another telephone being picked up, and
Missy's voice called out, "Mom!  Hang up the downstairs phone!  I've got it
up here!"

   She waited until she heard the click of the other telephone hanging up,
then whispered to me, "What, are you nuts?  You know how my parents are!"

   "I missed you.  I didn't see you all day today, except at lunch. 
Besides, they're going to have to find out about us someday, aren't they?"

   "Yes, of course, but not TODAY, you goof!  What am I going to do with
you?" she said, almost to herself.

   I lowered my voice into what I hoped was a seductive tone.  "Would you
be open to some suggestions?" I asked.

   "Ray!  You are terrible!" But I could hear just a trace of a giggle in
her voice.  Score another point for the Ray Machine.

   "Listen," I said quickly.  "A bunch of kids are planning on getting some
rooms at the Holiday Inn for after the Snowflake Dance in December.  Do you
think you can talk your folks into letting you stay out all night?"

   "Oh, God.  I doubt it, I really doubt it.  Besides," she added
pointedly, "nobody's even asked me to the dance yet."

   "Hey, not my fault," I said hastily.  "Your parents haven't let you date
yet, and I didn't want to be turned down, you know?"

   "Well, they might make an exception for one of the big events of the
school year.  I'll work on them.  Does this mean that you're going to ask
me out if I can convince them that I'm old enough to go out on a date?"

   "You could ask ME out, you know.  It shouldn't always be up to the guy
anymore."

   "With my parents, that'll be the day," she grumbled.

   "Okay, if you insist, then I'll do the asking.  Melissa Samuelson, light
of my life and holder of my heart, will you accompany me to the Snowflake
Dance?"

   There was a pause long enough that I wondered if she was still on the
line.

   "Do you mean that, Ray?" she asked quietly.

   "Of course I do, Missy.  I would like you to go to the dance with me. 
What did you think?"

   "Not that part, dummy.  The other part."

   "What?  Light of my life and holder of my heart?"

   "Yes, that part.  Do you mean that?"

   Suddenly I knew that this was very important to her.  The glib answer I
had ready died on my lips.

   "Yes," I said softly.  "I mean it.  I belong to you until you send me
away."

   There was another long pause.  Then, so softly I barely heard, she
whispered, "Thank you, Ray.  And I am yours, too.  Good night."

   And with that the line went dead as she hung up the phone.

   Oh my God, what did I do?  I thought to myself.  Suddenly I was nervous.
Did I just commit to something?  Did my mouth just make a promise that my
body wouldn't be able to keep?  Christ in a Bucket, I hope I didn't just
step into some very deep shit, I thought.



   I didn't sleep very well that night.





   - 6 Two weeks later I was going to eat dinner with Melissa, her little
sister Megan, and her parents at the Samuelson house.  All week long Missy
was coaching me about her parents, desperately wanting me to make a good
first impression.  I was pretty desperate, too.  I was having nightmares
about dribbling ice cream down the front of my suit, or sneezing a big
goober out all over the table, or some such other calamity during dinner
with her parents.  I was nervous as hell about it, but no matter how bad it
got for me, I knew it was worse for Melissa.

   She was getting a lot of flak from her parents about bringing a boy to
dinner, and her sister was incessant in her taunting.  For an 11-year-old
(never a good age anyway, in my book), Megan seemed to be particularly
annoying and spiteful, and I hadn't even met her yet.

   "Missy," I finally said in exasperation, "you're 15 years old.  What do
they want to do, keep you in a convent until you're 21?"

   "Probably," she muttered.  We were in the library, having gotten passes
out of our respective study halls so we could be together for a little
while.  "But until I can talk some sense into their thick heads, we've got
to do it this way.  So lighten up, Raymond."

   We had only been seeing each other for a couple of months, but I knew
when she called me Raymond, that I had better pay attention.  Who says a
16-year-old hormonally charged jock couldn't learn anything?

   "Remember.  With my dad, a firm handshake is necessary, but don't
squeeze so hard you crush his fingers.  Look him in the eye when you're
shaking his hand, but not in a challenging way.  Don't disagree with him if
he says something you think is wrong; just keep your mouth shut.  I know it
isn't right, but just do it, for my sake, okay?" She looked at me with
those big blue eyes, her head down so she was looking askance through her
eyelashes.  Who could resist?

   "Okay, I've got it.  Meek and mild, that's me.  Agreeable right down to
my shoes."

   "And don't let Megan get on your nerves.  She will try, you know."

   "Yeah, I know, but really, how much trouble can an 11-year-old really
be?"

   "Hoo, boy, do you have a lot to learn," she said.





   So there I was that Friday night, driving in my dad's car over to
Melissa's house for dinner with her family.  I had a fresh haircut, I was
showered and shaved, and so nervous I thought I'd sweat right through my
suit coat.  I kept on wiping my sweaty palms on my pants, vainly trying to
will myself to calm down.  I managed to park in her driveway without
knocking down any trees, or driving over any rose bushes, which,
considering my mental state, was an accomplishment.  I knocked on the door,
half hoping they had forgotten about this and had gone out somewhere.  I
was relieved when the door opened and Missy was there.  She was dressed in
a simple black sweater with gray pants.  There was a fine gold chain with a
small pearl pendant around her neck.  She had curled her blonde hair so
that it lay on her shoulders, soft and lustrous.  She had never looked
lovelier.

   "Pow," I said, gazing at her in awe.

   She blushed, shook her head, and dragged me into the house by my arm. 
She looked around quickly, then reached up and gave me a quick peck on the
lips, careful not to smudge her lipstick.

   "Take it easy, Ray.  You look like you're walking to your own execution.
It's only dinner," she said with a bit of a smirk.

   She led me into the living room.  Her father stood up and strode over to
us.

   "Daddy, I would like you to meet Ray Kennedy.  Ray, this is my father."

   "Pleased to meet you, Mr.  Samuelson," I said as I held out my hand.

   "Ray," he acknowledged, as he grasped my hand and shook it.  'Melissa
has been telling us about you."

   "Only the good parts, I hope," I said.  I glanced at Missy, but she
seemed fairly calm, not really nervous at all.  Maybe, I thought, things
will go okay after all.

   "Sit down for a moment, Ray," said Mr.  Samuelson.  "Dinner will be
ready in a few minutes.  Melissa, would you like to offer your guest
something to drink?"

   She jumped slightly, caught by surprise, and asked what I would like.

   "Uh, just water is fine with me, thanks," I said.

   "I'll take a glass also, please, Melissa," said her father.  He turned
his attention back to me.  "So, Melissa tells me you are in the 11th
grade."

   For the next half hour he grilled me on school, my grades, football and
basketball and baseball, my college choices, my career choices, and a dozen
other subjects.  About the only thing he didn't ask me was my hat size.  By
the time he was done, I felt like I had been wrung out and hung up to dry.
Missy's mother dropped it briefly to be introduced, and then she hustled
back toward the kitchen to finish preparing dinner.  Missy sat by me on the
couch when she was not needed in the kitchen, which probably tempered her
dad's questioning somewhat.  I was grateful for her presence.  There was
still no sign of her sister Megan.

   Finally, Mrs.  Samuelson announced that dinner was ready to be served.
We all stood up, and Mrs.  Samuelson ushered us out of the living room and
into their dining room.  There were only four places set at the table.

   "Oh, by the way," said Mrs.  Fergus, "Megan is eating dinner at Ivy's
house tonight.  She'll be home at about 7:30."

   We sat down, and Mr.  Samuelson said grace, and we started passing food
around the table.  The conversation became lighter as we ate, now that the
ice had been broken, and I started to relax a little.  Missy gave me a
quick secret smile as she passed the vegetables.

   Mrs.  Samuelson was a good cook, and I was effusive in my compliments.
She tried to pass it all off as a normal Friday ritual for them, but I
thought she looked pleased with my comments.  Mr.  Samuelson looked on, all
seriousness, but I think he was a bit amused.  The good news, in my
opinion, is that I made it through dinner without sneezing out a big goober
all over the table.  I took it as a small victory over my nightmares.

   After dinner we wandered into the family room for coffee and dessert.  I
heard the front door open and a loud voice called out, "I'm home!" The door
slammed, and we heard the sound of feet pounding up the stairs.

   Mrs.  Samuelson got up and went to the bottom of the stairs and called
up, "Hi, dear.  Come down and meet Melissa's friend from school."

   The feet came pounding back down the stairs, and a small, thin and
gangly dark-haired girl walked into the family room.

   Mrs.  Samuelson introduced us.  "Megan, this is Ray.  Ray, meet
Melissa's younger sister, Megan."

   I said hello to her, but she just stared at me without saying anything.

   "Megan?  What do you say?" asked Mrs.  Samuelson.

   "Did you kiss her yet?" Megan asked sarcastically.

   "Excuse me?" I said.

   "I said, did you kiss her yet?" she repeated.  "Or should I use smaller
words for you?  You don't look all that bright."

   "Megan, you are such a brat!" cried Melissa.

   "Oh, did I hit home?" said Megan.  She sashayed over to sit on the floor
by the fireplace.  "Or are you just too much of a Little Miss Perfect to
sully your lips with someone else's germs?"

   "Mother!" cried Melissa.  "Can't you do something with her?"

   "Megan, you must be nice to Melissa and her friend," chided Mrs. 
Samuelson.

   "Oh, all right, I'll be nice," she sulked.  "I always have to be nice
'cause Missy is always so perfect.  'Why can't you be like Missy?' I don't
WANT to be like Missy.  I am myself.  I'll NEVER be like Missy." She looked
around the room, daring anybody to disagree with her.  "So, Ray, what do
you do?  You look like a jock.  What do you play?"

   "Ummm...well, I was on the varsity football team, and I'm on the
basketball team, and then in the spring I'll probably play baseball..."

   "I play soccer," Megan interrupted.  "None of those other sports
interest me.  Have you ever played soccer?"

   "Well," I said hesitantly, "I played for a couple of years, but I wasn't
real good at a game I couldn't pick up the ball in, so I dropped it."

   "Figures," she muttered.  "Just another brainless jock who doesn't
understand a game he can't play."

   I turned to Melissa.  'What a sweet sister," I said to her.  "I think I
know now why there are only two kids in this family."

   Mrs.  Samuelson choked on her strawberry shortcake, and Mr.  Samuelson
nearly spat out a mouthful of coffee.  Melissa looked as if I had struck
her.

   Oh shit, I thought to myself.  I've really cooked my goose now.  I was
just about to apologize when Mr.  Samuelson burst out laughing.

   "By Christ, that's a great comeback, Ray," he said, still chuckling. 
"Megan, I don't think he is quite as brainless as you think he is.  And
he's right, you have been a brat.  It's past time you apologized to Ray and
to Melissa for your behavior."

   Megan looked sullen.  Finally she said, "Okay.  You're right.  I
apologize.  I'm sorry you're a brainless jock." She stood and walked out of
the room and up the stairs.  We heard a door slam.

   Mrs.  Samuelson turned to me and said, "I am so sorry for that, Ray. 
Megan, I'm afraid, is quite headstrong.  I'll go talk to her."

   "No, no, please," I said.  "Don't go up there and make matters worse on
my account.  I was out of line, and I apologize to both of you, Mr.  and
Mrs.  Samuelson, and I will be happy to personally apologize to Megan,
too."

   "Sit down, Ray, and stop talking nonsense," said Mr.  Samuelson.  "Megan
deserved it, and she's going to have to accept the consequences of letting
her mouth run.  Linda will handle her, and I will have a little chat with
her, but you have nothing to apologize to her for.  Now, tell me about this
Snowflake Dance that Melissa has been bending our ears about."



   An hour later, I felt like I had been through a negotiating session with
Yasser Arafat.  I was exhausted from the experience of dinner with the
Samuelsons, but by the end of the evening both Missy and I felt very good
about how it all went.  Her parents had accepted me, and Missy could stay
out until 2:00 AM the night of the Snowflake Dance.  It wasn't perfect, but
it was a lot more than Missy ever expected her father to agree to.  I said
good night to her folks, and she walked me to her front door.  We stepped
through, and she softly closed the door behind her, then wrapped her arms
around my neck and stretched up to give me a soft, sensuous kiss.  I hugged
her tight to me, glad the ordeal was over, and playfully grabbed her
earlobe between my teeth.

   "Careful," she whispered huskily.  "Don't start something you won't be
able to finish tonight." She rubbed her hips against me then, and kissed me
hard, then let go and turned to go back in.  She turned with her hand on
the doorknob and said, "Way to go tonight, Ray.  You were a star."

   "Just trying to come through for my Missy girl," I said, the very
picture of modesty.

   "Well, you did come through, but I think it was for both of us," she
said with a smile.  "Tomorrow at Fabrice's?"

   A grin traced itself across my face.  "Tomorrow it is," I said.