Student and Teacher Ch. 19

He snapped his head in her direction—and away from a scrumptious young woman whose cleavage was on display to all and sundry.

"What?" he cried. "It's way too early. Just chill a bit."

"Hal," she said severely, "I don't want to be here anymore. You're my date—you have to take me home."

He glared at her with something approaching hatred, and Iris almost recoiled from him. But she held her ground, giving him a piercing look that actually ended up cowing him.

With a scowl he said sourly, "Oh, all right, you party-pooper. Come on."

He heaved himself up off the arm of the sofa he had been resting on and headed out the door, scarcely noticing whether Iris was following him or not.

The drive home was tense and uncomfortable. Iris just sat in the passenger seat staring straight ahead, and Hal drove unsteadily—he had clearly had a lot more alcohol than Iris had been able to keep track of—and with a glowering expression. When he pulled up in front of Iris's house, he got out of the car—and, to her surprise, walked around to her door and opened it.

That seemingly gentlemanly act almost reconciled Iris to her date, and her visions of pursuing a relationship with him in the coming months and years flooded back into her mind.

But those visions vanished abruptly when, after she had emerged from the car, he slammed her door shut and pressed her up against the vehicle, his body directly in front of her.

"Hal, what—" she began.

"Hey, babe," he said with a smirk, "let's cuddle for a bit."

"What? Here?" she cried frantically, appalled at the possibility that her parents might be waiting for her and, worse, peering out the window at the two of them.

"Sure, why not?" Hal said.

And with that, he thrust his body against hers and kissed her hard and sloppily on the mouth. She almost regurgitated at the stink of alcohol on his breath, and she also felt with alarm the sudden swelling of something in the area of his groin. She struggled to get out of his grasp but couldn't manage it. Finally she managed to pry her head away and cry:

"Hal, stop it! What do you think you're doing?"

He looked at her as if she were a dolt. He well know that practically every woman at school would have wanted to be where Iris was now, and he couldn't imagine any one of them not enjoying the sensation of being in his embrace—with the prospect for a lot more to come.

His puzzlement metamorphosed into annoyance, and then to hostility.

"Babe," he said in a low whisper, "you need to be taught a lesson."

And with that, he violently pulled down the front of her dress with both hands. Her bare breasts popped out with a bounce, and he gazed on them while licking his lips. Now his hands were squeezing those breasts painfully, and as Iris watched aghast he pulled her to him, reached around to her backside, and began lifting up her long dress to gain access to even more delicate parts of her anatomy.

Iris reacted in panic. She tried to wrestle out of his hold, but that was obviously futile. As he buried his head in her breasts, she almost screamed—and lashed out in sheer instinct.

She kneed him in the groin.

The blow was telling, and Hal let out a coughing gasp as if all the breath had been knocked out of him. He fell to his knees clutching the space between his legs, continuing to cough and sputter. Iris took the opportunity to flee, holding the top of her dress to her chest while rushing to the front door of her house. Hunting through her little purse, she managed to find her house key, slip it into the lock, and rush in. She slammed the door shut, resting her back on it as a wave of relief poured over her.

Luckily, her parents were lounging in their bedroom, apparently reading. Iris had to sneak by the partially opened door to get to her own room: she didn't want them to see the horrible disarray of her clothing, let alone the smearing of her lipstick over her cheek and chin—something she saw in the hall mirror as she raced along the upstairs corridor. Ignoring her mother's bland cry, "How'd it go, dear?" she flung herself into her room, locked the door, and collapsed on the bed. In a few moments she heard, to her immense relief, the revving up of Hal's car and its eventual retreat into the distance.

She slipped out of her ruined dress and flung it into the closet. She didn't know how she would explain its condition if her mother ever found it, but that was a question for another day. Putting on a terrycloth robe, she trudged into the bathroom, washed her face, and returned to her room.

Then she fell on the bed and cried herself to sleep.