Song of Euphoria

WARNING!

This text file contains sexually explicit material. If you do not wish to read this type of literature, or you are under age, PLEASE DELETE THIS FILE NOW!!!!

(c) copyright 2001 All Rights Reserved

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This is a story about Greg and Megan and Sam and Amelia (not at all similar to Bob and Carol and Ted and Alice).

The cast of characters:

Greg Clark: Age 20, 6 ft 1 in., 180 lbs, dark hair, slim build and average looking. Greg had a pretty level head on his shoulders, especially considering his heritage. He grew up, and still lived, in a run down 2 bedroom house in the poorest section of town. His father was an alcoholic who had trouble holding a job for more than two weeks at a time. His mother, also an alcoholic, was the town punching bag. She would fuck anybody (except her husband) any time, anywhere, and didn't care who knew it. He didn't hate his parents, but he hated what they had become. Because of them, he had been barely able to tolerate living at home, but knew that it was the most expedient way of achieving his goal, which was to save enough money to pay for a college education.

He was very focused on his goal, and was well on his way toward achieving it, by working two jobs and saving his money, which he had been doing for as long as he could remember. Even though he wasn't a 'hunk,' he had always been popular with the girls. He had had his share of sexual experiences, but had never had a serious girl friend. He was much too focused on his goal to let just any woman into his life on a permanent, or semi-permanent basis. He was honest, sincere and wasn't afraid to speak his mind. He was well liked because he treated everyone equally and with respect, and he had an infectious personality, some would call it charisma. His avocation was studying people and their behavior, as he believed the secret to a successful career in any field was understanding, and applying people, and their skills, properly. He was mature well beyond his years.

Megan Carlson: Age 19, 5 ft. 6 in., 120 lbs, blonde, slim build and beautiful. Megan had recently completed her sophomore year at Harvard. She had been attending various private schools, usually away from home, since she was 5 years old. As a result she had had very little contact with the people in her hometown. Over the years many guys at school, and elsewhere, had tried to bed her, with no success. She hadn't even let any of them get beyond first base. While she enjoyed a good time as much as anybody; she hadn't met anyone that seriously interested her. She had the ability to recognize that most of the guys that she dated were shallow and vain. She was rebellious, as most teenagers are, but not to the point of biting off her nose to spite her face. She wouldn't fuck any of these guys just for spite. It was very important to her that when she lost her virginity, it would be to a special guy. She had earned her reputation of being an 'ice queen,' but could care less what others thought. She was also her mother's protégé, very spoiled, and a snob-in-training.

Amelia Carlson: Age 44, 5 ft. 4 in., 115 lbs, blonde, average build and beautiful. Amelia is Megan's mother and a first class snob. She was born into the upper crust of society and strove to stay there, isolated from the 'commoners.' She had been determined to see to it that Megan be kept isolated, also. She made sure that Megan socialized with, and planned on seeing to it that she eventually married into, their class. Even though Sam was originally a commoner, she had trained him reasonably well and was quite proud of her family. She had married Sam only because her family's fortune had been squandered away by her inept father. She was physically attracted to Sam right from the beginning, but it took her many years to realize that she loved him deeply. She was a strong willed person who ruled the household with an iron hand, but was inhibited in the bedroom, afraid of 'letting loose.' She hadn't enjoyed sex to the fullest with Sam, mainly because of her inhibitions. She had never cheated on him, even though her beauty had gotten her many offers. She was never seriously tempted, because she had what she wanted and was not about to take any chances of losing it.

Sam Carlson: Age 55, 6 ft. even, 210 lbs, mostly gray, average build with a bit of a paunch, but distinguished-looking. Sam is Megan's father and a good person. He had dropped out of school at age 16 to help support his mother and father, and wound up working his way to the top of the business world. He was very intelligent and had a strong will to succeed. He was also an exceptional judge of character, which was the single most important reason for his success. He had earned a reputation as being a firm, but fair person in his business dealings. Success to Sam meant money, and his success translated into many millions of dollars. He didn't marry Amelia until he was well on his way up the financial ladder, and then because she was beautiful, and because he felt that he needed a socialite to punctuate his success. As beautiful and desirable as Amelia was, he was largely dissatisfied with their sex life. He tried, but couldn't seem to get Amelia interested enough to try anything new to spice things up. His attempts to improve their sex life were by persuasion, as he had wanted to, but hadn't summoned the courage to take charge in the bedroom, as he had done so effortlessly in the business world. He was apprehensive because of Amelia's dominant personality. He knew that she had married him because of his money, but he had grown to love her very deeply and he was sure that she loved him, even though she wouldn't admit to loving a self-made man, a former commoner. He had never cheated on Amelia, but had been seriously tempted a number of times. It was his strong moral character that kept him on the straight and narrow.

The story:

Coming from different worlds, Greg and Megan were not very likely to ever meet, let alone become lovers, but as fate would have it, one dark and lonely night...

As Greg was returning to the garage in his boss' tow truck, he was forced off the road by some lunatic chick driving a bright red sports car, he had seen the long blond hair flapping in the breeze. She had been speeding and took a blind curve much too tight, and it took all of his driving skills to avoid contact with her car. Neither he nor the truck was the worse for the incident, but it was a close call and it shook him up. He waited until his pounding, accelerated heartbeat slowed to near normal, gathered himself together and headed back to the garage.

As soon as he pulled in, his boss asked him if he'd do him a favor and take one more call. He told Greg that a young lady in a sports car had a tire blow out on the road that he had just traveled. 'Hmmmmm, could it be?' he thought. As tired as he was, he was more than anxious to take the call, as he wanted to meet the lunatic chick and give her a good piece of his mind. His boss went on to tell him that she was Megan Carlson, of THE Carlsons, and asked him to treat her with kid gloves.

'Kid gloves, my ass,' thought Greg to himself.

It took him about 20 minutes to get to where Megan was stranded, and she was furious. "What took you so long? I have things to do, I can't spend my life waiting on incompetent people like you to do their jobs!" She reprimanded him in an extremely disrespectful and angry tone.

He was amused at the fact that he fully intended to be the one doing the chewing out, but she beat him to the punch as she continued to berate him. He calmly, with a warm smile on his face, scoped her out. His eyes roamed from her pretty face down to her dainty, sandal clad, feet and back again, slowly and deliberately. She soon became unnerved at his quiet confidence, his unresponsiveness to her demands and the way he was visually checking her out, seemingly penetrating her defenses.

Her defense was to take the offensive once again. "What do you think you're doing? Didn't you hear what I said? Get busy, and fix my tire. Don't you know who I am?"

He continued to smile and said nothing. He had become enraptured with her beauty as soon as he had laid eyes on her. 'She's a Goddess, yes, a Goddess with a very bad attitude and a sharp tongue,' he thought to himself. He had heard stories about Megan and how beautiful she was, but it was the first time that he had seen for himself, and he was duly impressed. He had also heard people talk about how she was nothing but a spoiled brat and untouchable for a commoner. Her beauty had captivated him to the extent that he had completely forgotten that she had run him off the road only minutes earlier.

His eyes moved to make eye contact with her again. He gazed into her beautiful blue eyes and watched as the message that they conveyed changed from fiery anger and disrespect to one of softness and caring, but only for a brief moment. He felt like, during that one brief moment, he was able to penetrate, to view her subconscious, her soul. He liked what he saw in her eyes, in her soul, but not what he heard come out of her mouth.

"What are you staring at?" she snapped as the angry look returned. She had become even more unnerved at his penetrating gaze and calm demeanor.

Megan was disappointed in herself, she was impressed with what she saw in this young mechanic's eyes and she had momentarily allowed him to penetrate her icy barrier. She felt something, a stirring within her heart, and her crotch. There was something about him that excited her, but she couldn't understand what it was. She had dated better-looking guys than him who hadn't affected her that way. 'Why did he have such an impact on her?' She soon snapped out of it, and resumed her bratty behavior.

He chuckled to himself, she came across as a spoiled brat all right, but he wasn't daunted. He became convinced that she was a completely different person than she wanted people to believe. Those few moments of penetrating eye contact were enough to convince him that she was the woman for him, and he the man for her. 'She doesn't know that yet, or does she?' he thought. Of course, her radiant beauty didn't hurt any.

She continued her verbal barrage as he slowly removed his eyes from hers and began the task of changing the tire. He had yet to utter a word, which served to fuel her fire.

He continued with the task at hand, at a much slower pace than he normally worked, as she continued her verbal assault. He finally had had enough, as he put the tire iron down, slowly rose to a standing position and turned to face her.

They made eye contact again and he saw, for another brief moment, that same look of love and caring that he had seen before, and again, it didn't last long.

"Why did you stop working? Get busy. I told you that I don't have all night," she snapped again.

He merely continued his soft, penetrating gaze, directly into her eyes, and once again her look softened. There was a multi-part message in that look of his. He was showing her his strength of character and was telling her that he wouldn't be intimidated no matter how much she berated him. He was also telling her that she was his, now and forever. Those were surreal moments where time had become suspended, as their eyes remained locked onto one another for what seemed like hours, but, in reality, was only a matter of seconds.

She felt like she was floating in the clouds, wrapped safely and securely in his arms. No man had ever made such an impact on her, as he had in those very brief, but wonderful, moments. She began to believe that he was a very special guy, very special indeed

She landed back on earth with a thud. 'What was I thinking? How could I even think about him in that way? He's just a stupid mechanic. I can't allow myself to feel this way.'

When she came to her senses, even she was mature enough to realize that she needed to change her approach if she ever expected him to finish the job.

"OK, I've been behaving like a spoiled brat, I'm sorry. Now will you please finish changing the tire?" She offered grudgingly, but in a soft, pleading tone. She pondered what she had just said. 'Did I just admit that I was a spoiled brat? What in the world has come over me?'

His smile broadened as he once again turned to the task at hand, and finished in less than five minutes.

He rose and looked at her once again. She was glad that he had finished, but for some reason that she couldn't understand, sad that they must now go their separate ways. As she turned to retrieve her purse from the car in order to pay for the service call, she stepped into a rut and lost her balance. She fell to the ground in such a way that a brush with a nearby bush had scratched her shoulder and tore the spaghetti strap on her dress, exposing her bra-covered left breast.

Greg immediately moved to her aid, bent over, grasped her upper arm with his soiled hand and helped her to her feet. They both felt something as he touched her, something excitingly electric. As he was helping her to her feet, he spoke to her for the first time, "Are you all right?"

"Y-yes, I'm fine. Just a little shook up is all." After she composed herself, she smiled and asked, "So, you can talk after all?"

He smiled warmly at her, as he saw the torn strap and exposed bra and reached over to her. He noticed that the scratches were superficial, and he took hold of the two ends of her dress strap. Normally she might have recoiled in fear that he was going to take advantage of her in some way, but she felt no fear. She allowed him to reposition her dress to cover her bra and tie the strap.

"Thanks," she said as she once again looked into those penetrating, beautiful blue eyes of his. She felt the stirring once again, even stronger than before. She was very, very confused, as she continued to maintain eye contact.

He spoke again, "You're a very special young lady. On the surface a spoiled brat, but deep down a very loving, caring person."

Even she didn't believe the part about being a loving, caring person. "I don't think..."

He didn't let her finish. "I think that both of us know that something special has taken place here tonight, I feel it and see it in your eyes, and I believe that you feel it too. I don't expect that you'll admit it to yourself, but there's no doubt in my mind that we're meant for each other. I realize that we come from different worlds, but that obstacle can, and will be, overcome."

She was flabbergasted. 'What did he just say?' She thought. 'How could he ever think that they were meant for each other?' Even though she had seen something very wonderful in those eyes of his, she wasn't about to admit it to herself. 'Admit that she was attracted to a commoner - NO WAY!' She reverted back to her bratty self.

"You're daft! You're just a common mechanic, I could never be interested in someone like you," she blurted as she quickly turned, hopped into her car and sped off. In her haste, she had forgotten to pay for the service call.

On the way home she thought of what he had said. The more she thought about it, the angrier she got with him, for saying something that ludicrous. She decided that she had to put him in his place, to get even with him. 'Her dress was torn, she was dirty, why not?' She thought.

Sam heard her car pull into the driveway and rose to greet her at the door. He noticed her disheveled appearance and asked her what had happened. She blurted out a lie about how the young mechanic had tried to take advantage of her. She also let Sam know that she had managed to get away before he actually did anything. Megan's stomach churned as she told her father the lie, 'Why do I feel so rotten? He's nothing, why should I care what happens to him?'

Sam fumed as he observed the torn dress and the dirty hand print on her upper arm. He comforted Megan, and when she calmed down, he told her that he'd take care of the mechanic in his own way. She smiled to herself, got up and proceeded to her bathroom to get cleaned up. 'That'll teach the brazen clod,' she thought. She also felt the guilt again, as she tried in vain to convince herself that she had imagined all the crazy, but wonderful, feelings that she had experienced with him.

Sam called the garage, but Greg hadn't returned as yet. He let Greg's boss know, in no uncertain terms, that he wanted to speak to Greg immediately upon his return. Greg arrived five minutes later, was given the message, was told of Sam's apparent anger. Rather than dodge the bullet, Greg believed in facing up to adversity, and called the number that Sam had left.

Sam answered and, very uncharacteristically, began to shout obscenities and threats to Greg over the phone, a strong indication that he was livid over what had happened to his daughter. Greg remained calm, he knew that he had done nothing wrong, and waited for Sam to say his piece. When he paused, or stopped, Greg calmly denied his accusations and offered to meet him face to face. Greg's demeanor had a calming, but unsettling, effect on Sam. While Sam did calm down, he felt unnerved over the young man's refusal to be intimidated. Sam wasn't used to that, as he had been able to intimidate most people when the situation called for it. He decided that he would, indeed, meet the young mechanic, and proposed a meeting the next day at his office. Greg agreed, even though it meant missing several hours of work.

At the conclusion of the phone conversation with Sam, Greg was both puzzled and pleased. He was puzzled as to why Megan had lied to Sam and pleased that he had an appointment to meet the man that he had long admired, based on reputation only. Many of his friends and other townspeople worked at Sam's factory, and had told Greg repeatedly what a tough, but fair, man Sam was. They all admired him.

Greg showed up right on time the next day, and told the receptionist that he had an appointment with Mr. Carlson. She contacted Sam's personal secretary and was told to have Greg wait for her.

Sam's secretary arrived a few minutes later and escorted Greg up to Sam's private office. Sam had had some time to calm down and think since last night, and was inclined to give Greg the opportunity to tell his side of the story. Sam felt that he had sounded so calm and sincere on the phone that he deserved at least that much. Besides, he knew that Megan was a spoiled brat and very capable of making up, or embellishing, the story.

The secretary showed Greg in and closed the door behind him. He calmly walked up to Sam and extended his hand. "I'm Greg Clark, and, even under the circumstances, am be very pleased to meet you, sir."

Sam remained seated and didn't take Greg's hand, he intended to make him feel as uncomfortable as possible. He uttered gruffly, "I'm not so pleased to be meeting you, young man. Let's get on with the business, tell me your side of it and then I'll decide what to do about you."

Greg calmly told his story, leaving out the part about telling Megan that they were meant for each other. The two men maintained eye contact the entire time. Sam saw something in Greg that impressed him. It also led him to believe that maybe Greg was telling the truth, but he didn't want Greg to know that, not at that moment, anyway.

"Why should I believe your story and not my daughter's?" He asked.

"Because Megan's a spoiled brat, and capable of anything when her dander's up and wants to lash out at somebody, in this case, me," he replied calmly and assuredly.

Sam couldn't believe the nerve of the young man as he gruffly responded, "You have a lot of nerve, calling my daughter a spoiled brat right to my face!"

"Actually, sir, I think we both know what a spoiled brat she is, or what she appears to be. Deep down she's a warm, caring person, and I suspect we both know that, too."