Homecoming Queen

"Is there anything you haven't done?"

"Not that I can think of. There isn't actually much I haven't tried in front of a camera. Want to know why I'm so forward?"

"I think everyone in Idaho wants to know that."

"It's simple: Because nobody else is. I know I'm pretty -- beautiful even -- and because of that, guys too often think they've got no chance. Starting with that mindset, they quickly graduate to 'why bother?' I take the initiative because otherwise my best friend would run on batteries.

I enjoy being an object of desire and I enjoy sharing this pretty body with the rest of the world." She lifted his hand to her breast. His fingers responded instinctively, cupping the soft mound. "And I really enjoy having the world's most famous pussy."

"And all the people you've shocked? Hurt? Offended?"

"I can't help the prejudices of others but I don't hurt anyone -- at least, not without their consent."

"Your parents would disagree. Sorry B, I'm not judging you, I'm just playing devil's advocate here because there is going to be talk on Saturday night... and after, and I'm going to have to deal with it after you've gone back to your life."

"I know, but my parent's could just accept that my life is my life, not theirs and that I live by my rules, not theirs. They're hurt because they wanted a clone of them and I can't help that. Your Mom will feel much the same the day you leave for college. She's spent all these years being indispensable and now she's going to have to accept that her little boy has grown up."

"I guess so." Robbie went quiet for a while, but his hand still cupped B's breast and she knew he had a lot to think about today so she let him be.

* * * * *

Outside the airport, an immaculately shiny Ferrari was waiting.

"David!" B relinquished Robbie's arm and hurled herself into the waiting embrace of the young man leaning on the car. After a far from perfunctory kiss, she said, "You didn't have to come and meet us. But it's sweet that you did."

"I thought you might want your car back. Besides, I haven't seen nearly enough of you this year."

"So? A little bird told me you've been seeing quite a lot of somebody else. I'm looking forward to meeting your new 'first lady', Mr President." B had known David Barrio -- in the biblical sense -- since he'd pledged to Phi Kappa Delta. Now he was Fraternity President and being groomed for a position in Eric's business empire after graduation.

"You know you'll always be Phi Kappa Delta's First Lady... And mine." David still fondly remembered losing his innocence to B.

"Oh! Where are my manners?" B remembered that she wasn't alone and turned to find Robbie standing exactly where she'd let go of his arm. "Robbie, I'm so sorry. I forgot." She fetched him over to meet David. "Robbie, this is David Barrio, President of Phi Kappa Delta. David, meet Robbie Pugh, first recipient of the B Kennedy scholarship. I'm hoping he'll choose Harvard. That's why we're here." She hugged Robbie to her, reached up for his cheek and used finger pressure to turn his chin just enough to be able to kiss him. If he was self conscious, kissing her in front of a stranger, B's enthusiasm more than made up for Robbie's hesitancy and he soon gave in, giving almost as good as he got. When B let him, he held out a hand in the general direction of David. "A pleasure to meet you, Mr President."

"Just David. And it's good to meet you, Robbie. It's always interesting to meet B's new pals." He shook Robbie's hand firmly.

"Oh, I'm not a new pal. B used to baby-sit for my Mom."

"Really?" David's eyebrows rose and he cast an enquiring glance at B.

"True." B confirmed. "We're old pals... but new lovers."

"Are congratulations in order?" David was asking B if Robbie was another virgin for her trophy cabinet.

"Oh yes." B smiled knowingly.

"Then Mr Pugh," David took Robbie's hand again. "Congratulations and welcome to the club."

"What club?" Robbie looked puzzled by this entire exchange. He still shook David's hand though. Manners maketh the man and, around B, all you could do was hold on tight and hope it all made sense when the world stopped spinning.

"That elite and august body of men who've yielded their innocence to this sweet creature."

"Oh... Thank you." Robbie was dazed.

"We'll see you later, David." B steered the unresisting Robbie into the passenger seat. Its lowness caught him out and he landed harder than intended, but the seat caught him. "We'll pop by after dinner for a few games of pool." B moved around to the driver's side and got in, leaving David standing on the sidewalk as she drove off.

"Later!" He called after her.

"Robbie, I'm so sorry I left you standing there." B took the opportunity to apologize again. "I completely forgot I was being your guide dog."

"You're forgiven." Robbie had to strain to hear her over the whine of the engine. It was a noisy car.

"Well, I shouldn't be... it was naughty and naughty girls deserve to be spanked." B wondered if that was on Robbie's fantasy to-do list. She kind of hoped so.

"Well you're still forgiven, but I'm sure you'll find a way to make it up to me later." Robbie was learning fast.

"I'm sure." B had 'later' all planned out already and was going to rock Robbie's world.

"What is this car?"

"My graduation present from Eric."

"It's very noisy."

"It's very fast too, and oh-so beautiful."

"Like you."

"Thank you. That's sweet."

"So what kind of car is it?"

"Sorry. It's a Ferrari something-or-other, which is as much as I can tell you. I keep it here in Boston because it's no use in Manhattan and the Fraternity President has the use of it when I'm not in town because it helps raise the kudos of Phi Kappa Delta."

"I see. Is there really a club for people you've slept with?"

"Oh yes. Helen and I have bedded a couple of hundred fraternity members each, both current students and alumni. About forty of them were virgins."

"And Harvard men tend to do well in the world."

"All part of my ambition of having the world's most famous pussy... Being the former lover of Judges, Senators, Wall Street Moguls and maybe even a President."

"And a blind boy from Idaho."

"And lots of guys who aren't going to change the world, but you might not be one of them. You haven't decided what you want to do with your life yet but believe me, as of this morning, your options are almost limitless. Anything I can't afford, Eric can. If you wanted to be the first blind man in space, it can probably be arranged. All you have to decide is what you really want to do."

"Why?"

"Why?"

"Why does it matter so much what I want to do?"

"Because I have nothing better to do with my time and money and Eric earns more each week than he can reasonably spend so will welcome anything that provides an interesting use for the empire he inherited. But mainly, just because."

"That's not a reason."

"Isn't it? You asked why. Let me ask you, why not? With the right help you might change the world one day but, if you don't, at least you won't spend years wondering what if..."

"That's a lot to get my head around on top of everything else today."

"I know it is, so lets simplify things. The only decisions you have to make tonight are what you'd like for dinner and whether or not you like the taste of pussy."

"Oh that's easy. Spaghetti. We always have pasta on Monday nights."

"And...?"

"Has anyone ever decided they don't like that?"

"No."

"Then there's your answer." Robbie was growing in confidence by the hour and B was pleased to see him taking the initiative, at least verbally.

"Ok. Here we are." B pulled up outside the main entrance of the Marriott and hopped out of the car, handing the keys to a valet. "C'mon Robbie." She took his arm as he got out and led him inside.

* * * * *

"Eric keeps this suite permanently." B was guiding Robbie around the various rooms, making sure there was nothing too delicate that might ambush him when he was navigating solo. "If you pick Harvard-"

"If Harvard will have me." Robbie was well aware that Harvard tended to like a little say in the matter too.

"Oh, that won't be a problem. If you pick Harvard, this is probably your best option for accommodation. Hot and cold running chambermaids, twenty-four hour room service so you don't have to cook for yourself, a spare room when your Mom comes to visit and, best of all, I'll be here pretty regularly."

"Will you take a few pictures of it to show Mom? It'll help put her mind at rest." Robbie handed B his mobile phone.

"Sure. That's a great idea." B parked Robbie on the foot of one of the beds and took half a dozen pictures of the bedroom, the bathroom, the reception room and the private lobby and elevator. Just for mischief, she sent Robbie an image from her own phone and set it as his wallpaper. She wondered how long it'd be before someone asked Robbie about the picture: It was her favourite image of her pussy and the gallery's logo -- a black and white study of her labia, spread like petals and photo-shopped into the centre of an orchid.

"Thanks." Robbie stood up and pocketed his phone as B returned.

"Time to play dress-up." B rummaged through the wardrobe and selected a dinner suit for Robbie. "Try this on. What size collar do you take?" She tossed a suit onto the bed and proceeded to flick through the collection of shirts Eric kept here.

"I don't know. Mom does the shopping." It sounded so lame. He was almost embarrassed to admit it.

"Of course she does. Let me see." She left the wardrobe open and began unbuttoning Robbie's shirt. He let her. He also let her undo his jeans, which he promptly stepped out of. "15 inch: An inch smaller than Eric. No matter. I'll get you a new shirt tomorrow." She knelt in front of him and Robbie was half expecting his shorts to go south as swiftly as his jeans had but B surprised him by lifting his foot to slip one leg of the dress trousers on. The other foot got the same treatment then she stood up and let him fasten his new pants himself.

"Too big." He had to hold them up.

"That's why Mr Hawkes is coming at seven. Just let them sag. They won't actually fall down. Try the jacket." She held the tux behind him while he slipped his hands into the sleeves, then settled the garment onto his shoulders and moved to the front to fasten the single button. "A little taken in here and there and it'll be perfect." B was happy with her choice of suit so far.

The phone by the bed rang. B sprawled across the bed to reach it. "Hello?... Yes... He's expected. Please send him right up... Thank you." Then to Robbie: "Mr Hawkes is on his way up."

"I'll go and let him in... if I can remember where the door is." Picking up his white cane, Robbie turned and headed out of the bedroom, finding that doorway first time. B was impressed at the confidence with which he moved around such unfamiliar territory.

"Mr Hawkes?" Robbie held open the door.

"Indeed. Good evening, Sir." The elderly tailor moved past the young man into the reception room.

"Its good to see you again, Mr Hawkes." B came out of the bedroom and gave the old man a hug.

"The pleasure's all mine. Is this the suit you want altered?" He gently turned Robbie by the shoulders and appraised the fit of the jacket.

"Yes, for Prom Night, next Saturday. Can you do it?"

"Eh? Certainly. Certainly." He pinched seams and marked them with a triangle of tailor's chalk.

Robert, well used to listening to the tone of people's voices, noticed a certain tension in Mr Hawkes'. "She's naked, isn't she?" He asked the tailor.

"Indeed. In my experience its Miss Kennedy's default state of dress."

"Well this time it must be for your benefit, Mr Hawkes. I can't see."

"And Mr Hawkes won't look." B sounded sullen.

"Miss Kennedy, I note that you've lost that vestigial tuft of pubic hair you were wearing when we last met. I do pay attention to these little details, but we only have limited time to get this suit right and you want Mr Pugh looking impeccable, yes?"

"Point taken." B sounded happier now that the tailor had owned up to a sneaky peek. "As long as Robbie does look impeccable, you're forgiven."

"Thank you. Take the jacket off please, Mr Pugh."

"Robbie." Robbie hated being Mr Pugh. Mr Pugh was his rarely encountered father, who'd been unable to come to terms with 'the burden God had given him': Namely, having a blind son. He shrugged the jacket off his shoulders.

Mr Hawkes knelt to mark the trousers for alteration too. "Robbie. Is that your only cane?" Mr Hawkes asked.

"Yes. Why?"

"Only, if you can manage an evening without a collapsible cane, I have one in the shop that was ordered for an elderly client who unfortunately passed away quite suddenly. A sterling silver crooked handle and ferrule, much like many ordinary dress canes, but white. It might be more suitable to the occasion?"

"I don't know. It sounds too-" Robbie was thinking 'expensive'.

"Please send it over, Mr Hawkes." B cut in because she could see precisely what Robbie was thinking and she knew it didn't matter. Everything would be charged to Eric's account anyway and any guy who would commission Lalique glass dildos for his girlfriends would hardly notice the expense of a silver topped cane. Besides, B had been musing about getting Robbie into some of Eric's photographs and the cane would be a prop then, hence a legitimate expense. Perhaps something ironic involving a blind man and a pole dancer? She'd have to talk to Eric about it sometime.

"All done." Mr Hawkes stood up slowly. "If you'd like to take off the pants, Robbie... Miss Kennedy?" He turned to face her, this time making a point of looking her up and down before settling on eye contact. It made the wanton smile and Mr Hawkes had to admit to himself that she was quite strikingly lovely. "How long are you staying in Boston?"

"Only until tomorrow afternoon."

"Ah. Not much time. This will need a second fitting." He hefted the jacket and pants over his arm. "Will Mr... Robbie have time tomorrow afternoon?"

"We'll make time. I'll arrange an evening flight. Shall we come to you? After lunch?"

"That would help a great deal. Thank you. Good Evening Robbie." Mr Hawkes walked towards the door,

"Good Evening Mr Hawkes. And thanks for sparing me the time." Robbie was trying to find his jeans, unaware that B had moved them.

"Always a pleasure, Miss Kennedy." Mr Hawkes nodded to B as she held the door for him. He was one of the few people she accepted 'Miss Kennedy' from. She enjoyed the formal courtesy of the elderly tailor. She would insist on him calling her B if she ever bedded him, but not until.

"Until tomorrow." B flashed him a smile and closed the door. "Now then, Robbie... What are you doing?"

"Trying to find my jeans."

"They're in the bedroom." B crossed the reception room to the bedroom door. "And so am I." She sprawled on the bed and listened to the tap-tap of Robbie's cane as he navigated the room next door.

"Where?" Robbie stopped just inside the room.

"On the back of the chair in front of the dressing table, but you don't need them now. Come here." B had been very patient this afternoon, not molesting her new lover in the airport, during the flight or even since arriving at the hotel. Now she figured she was due a little R and R before dinner.

Robbie found the corner of the bed and B's outstretched toes found his crotch, massaging his cock through his shorts. He dropped his cane and reached for her ankle, following her calf then thigh with his hands as he crawled onto the bed beside her. His fingers quickly found her labia and went to work, making B moan with lust. He could feel his underwear getting tighter by the moment.

"Lick me." B pleaded.

Robbie altered position to get his head between her legs and followed his nose as the musky scent of her arousal guided him directly to his goal. As he flicked his tongue against her engorged labia for the first time, B grabbed two handfuls of his hair and pressed his face firmly to her pussy. Robbie took the hint and buried his tongue as deeply as he could in the warm, soft flesh. It tasted wonderful. Better than he'd expected. Better than anything else he'd tasted. Sweet and slightly spicy like Christmas cookies.

"Mmm." B seemed pleased with his enthusiasm and relaxed her grip on his hair so he could breathe again. "Don't ignore my clit."

Robbie, obedient to her desires, moved his attention upwards. It didn't take much finding and he licked at her clit with enthusiastic zeal until B instructed him otherwise.

"Gently, Robbie. Less is more."

Robbie eased up, tickling the sensitive nub with the lightest touch of the tip of his tongue.

"That's it!" B sighed. Robbie certainly had aptitude.

After a couple of minutes of that, with B on the verge of climax, Robbie abandoned her clit to roam south again and plunge his tongue into the depths of her vagina. That felt wonderful too but she still felt cheated of her orgasm until, following the rivulet of juice trickling from her, Robbie's tongue crossed her perineum.

Instinctively, B hitched her knees up high over her tits to make her ass more accessible. Her effort wasn't wasted and Robbie followed the trail of her juices all the way to her anus, tickling that tiny declivity just as he had done so well to her clit.

"Oh yes." B offered encouragement. She loved being rimmed, just as she loved rimming others. It was quite possibly the most intimate caress she knew. It was also wonderfully pervy and B was all about that. Clearly, Robbie wasn't opposed to the idea either. He must know that he'd strayed from the usual hallowed ground but he continued to tease and probe her bottom for nearly a minute before moving back up to her clit and, this time, letting B have her long awaited climax.

"Oh my god! Yes.... Yes... Oh god... That's good!" B didn't hold back: Robbie's mother was well out of earshot this time. She grabbed his head again and made sure he didn't stop until she was completely exhausted.

When she did let go, Robbie moved up her body, resting some but not all his weight on her and kissing her belly, breasts and neck on his way to her mouth.

"Thank you, Darling. That was wonderful." B gave him a rave revue for his debut performance of cunnilingus.

"Really?" Robbie had heard about girl's faking orgasms.

"Really. You're a prodigy. I've got to introduce you to Helen sometime soon." B nuzzled his neck and felt very mellow towards her new pet.

"Don't tease."

"I'm not teasing. I share everything with Helen and your golden tongue is definitely worth sharing."

"So you didn't mind when I..."

"Licked my ass? Hell no! I loved it. Most guys need an invitation and you're certainly the first first-timer to do that, but you can do it anytime. That goes for Helen too. We're both really into anal games. Oh, Robbie, I wish you could see the pictures that Eric's taken of me. You'd know just how much of a slut I am."

"Well I can't, and I don't like to think of you as a slut. That's one of the words people back home use when they talk about you."

"Robbie... Darling... it's sweet of you to defend me but I really am a slut: A very happy slut. I love sex in all its kinky variety and I love showing the world the things I get up to."

"It's still not a nice word."

"'Nigger' was never as nice word for black people, but they've taken it back and clipped its claws so now it can't hurt them because the only people allowed to call them that are other black people and then it's used as a term of fraternity. The gay community took back the word 'queer' in much the same way. It doesn't hurt if it's your own term for yourself. So I'm a happy slut and, occasionally, a whore. Nice girls don't do the things I do and definitely don't do them in front of a camera."