tagFetishThe Date

The Date

byjane marwood©

Peter looked across the room, for perhaps the fiftieth time that afternoon. He attempted to hide his gaze by putting his hand across his forehead as if he was in deep thought.

As subtle and as artful as he thought his surreptitious look was, his action was not lost on Andrea. She turned her head, letting the sheer sides of her blond hair flick across her face as she looked across the room towards his table. She was most careful not to look directly at him, instead letting her eyes sweep across his position towards the open window. Her causal glance was rewarded with a deep blush from Peter's face as he quickly looked down at his work.

The large common room was laid out with over thirty tables and chairs. Each student was seated at his or her own table, their books and papers occupying much of the table surface. It was a hot afternoon and all of the long dormer windows had been opened to allow a gentle breeze to enter the room.

Andrea's Mountford's beauty was legendary within the sixth form college. Daily she spurned the attention of male sixth formers. She was always tactful, but such was the boys' humiliation at being turned down for a date that they rarely dared to ask twice. Unknown to anyone was her particular interest in one boy. Andrea had no interest in the jocks and school athletes who were part of the popular social crowd at the school. Even at her young age, she already had a clearly defined sexual preference - and was practical enough to know that her extreme good looks would win her any boy that she wanted. She had decided that that boy would be Peter Trent.

Peter was very, very different. Although he was extremely good looking and his body was perfectly proportioned, he was not overly muscular. His skin was smooth, almost feminine compared to the rest of the boys. His facial features were neat and his whole demeanour was studious rather than athletic. The sixth form girls found him attractive and Andrea was sure that he could have dated many of the girls if it were not for the fact that he was painfully shy.

Andrea had decided, quite some months ago, that she would ask Peter to the school Prom. She had researched her intending date and had learned everything about him. She knew that Peter lived alone with his mother, having lost his father during his early childhood. She knew, without doubt, that he was absolutely besotted with her... and yet was certain that he would never be able to buck up the courage to ask her out.

Andrea too, had no father. She lived with her mother and her aunt in a large, modern and well-designed house on the outskirts of Cleveden. The low profile house was the last house in an exclusive cul-de-sac. It was set in its own extensive grounds and had been cleverly designed to disguise the true extent of its size when being viewed from the roadway. The pool and tennis court, as well as the beautifully manicured lawns, were all completely secluded and hidden from view.

Both her mother and her aunt worked in private nursing. Andrea's mother was the matron and major shareholder of a small and exclusive cottage hospital, which was situated close to where she lived. Sheila, her sister, also worked in the same hospital as a nursing sister. Their income, along with the insurance they had been paid when they had both lost their 'doctor' husbands in the same car accident, provided them with an excellent standard of living. Andrea's mother had given birth to Andrea at the age of seventeen. She had had a hurried marriage, but a very happy one until her husband's tragic death. Her younger sister, who had lost her husband at the same time, had come to live with her after the tragedy. Andrea's mother, Cynthia Mountford was now thirty-four years old and her younger sister, Sheila, had only recently celebrated her twenty-fifth birthday.

Because of Cynthia's relatively young age for parenthood, the relationship between Andrea, her mother and her aunt, was such that they could talk easily to each other. No subject was taboo... or too controversial, or too embarrassing, that it could not be aired within this 'all female' household. However, there had been a genuine looks of surprise when Andrea had first told them of her sexual preferences for a male partner and the intimate details of her sexual desires. Although surprised at the admission, both Cynthia and her sister realised that Andrea had inherited this particular trait from their side of the family. What had particularly surprised both of them, were Andrea's plans to help achieve her goal.

Andrea had been delighted when, after their initial shock, they had helped with suggestions and planning until eventually, as the time for action became nearer, there had developed an 'expectancy'... a frisson of excitement, within the house.

It had been at breakfast that morning that Andrea had announced to her aunt, Sheila, that today would be the day, that she would be asking Peter to the School Prom. Both her mother and Sheila had laughed openly. "I bet, from what you have already told me of Peter, that he will be blushing down to his toes when you speak to him."

"I know mother, I think he will... but I bet he manages to say yes."

As the bell in the corridor sounded for the second time Andrea glanced around the common room. She noticed that the room had emptied quite quickly. The sporty, non-academic types had been the first to leave, keen to get out into the sunshine and down to the sports fields. Only a few students were left within the room as Andrea got up from her desk. Her lithe body moved gracefully, the short pleated navy-skirt swaying against her long shapely thighs as she moved purposefully towards the desk where Peter was still studying. He looked up and blushed profusely the moment he saw her approach. His face looked shameful and guilt ridden as he looked at her anxiously. 'Perhaps', Andrea thought, 'he thinks I am going to say something about the surreptitious glances he has been giving me all afternoon.'

She deliberately stood with the front of her bare thighs pressing against his desk as she looked down at him. She knew that her good looks and authoritarian demeanour intimidated him. To her delight his blush deepened until his whole face was suffused in a bright red glow of utter embarrassment. He looked up at her, his guilty expression distorting the beautiful features of his face.

Her tone was light and friendly as she spoke to him. "Oh Peter, sorry to interrupt your work, but I wondered if you had decided whether you were going to the Prom this weekend?"

Andrea noted that Peter had blushed again. Purple blotches had appeared upon his cheeks as he willed himself to look into her beautiful face. His hands were trembling as she held his gaze with an enquiring look.

His lips trembled... it seemed that he was almost near to tears as he looked at her anxiously. "Er... no.... er miss." His voice sounded tremulous as he tried to string his words together. "Er no I don't have a date ...er ... mmmm."

"Now Peter... there is no need to call me, Miss." Andrea was well aware that her authoritarian manner had prompted this formality. She gazed deep into his eyes, seeing his look of artless supplication as he nervously looked up at her. The look in his eyes delighted Andrea. It was if he had bared his entire soul to her. She spoke to him once more.

"Well Peter, I was thinking it will be quite a nice occasion... and I have two tickets, but no date. So would you like to pick me up at this address... say around seven-thirty?" Andrea did not wait for a reply, but merely put a printed card down upon the desk and turned away from the blushing boy. She knew from his expression that his emotions were in turmoil; however she was quite certain that she would see the little Ford convertible car that he drove, arrive at her house promptly at seven-thirty. She knew he would have a busy time making his preparations. Most of the boys would have already hired Tuxedos or dress suits and she imagined there would be very little time or choice left for Peter to organize himself for the Prom.

*

Peter had dutifully driven up to the house at the appointed time. Rather than waiting for Peter to knock, Andrea had met him on the pathway that led to the front door.

"I am not the sort of girl to keep such a smart young man waiting. You look very nice Peter... a white shirt and black evening dress really suits you. I am all yours for the evening... as long as you get me home for midnight. Mother has given me strict instructions not to be one minute late."

Peter was mesmerised by her words and the apparition of such a beautiful girl. Andrea was wearing a sheer black cocktail dress, which showed off her firm breasts and narrow waist. The hem of her dress came to just above her knees, revealing her beautiful tanned legs. He could not help blushing nervously as she got into the car and placed her hand upon his knee. "Now you will promise to get me home by midnight... my mother can be very strict." Peter was so enthralled by her beauty and the intimate touch of her delicate hand upon his knee that he hardly heard her words.

*

The dinner and dance was an enormous success, thanks to Andrea's exquisite social skills. She managed to make Peter feel mature whenever they were in the company of others... and yet while they were on their own, she talked to him more as if he were a much younger boy.

For the first part of the evening, Peter had been hesitant in his conversation. At one point he had looked mortified when the captain of the football team had come over to their table just after they had finished their meal. He had ignored Peter completely and had smiled at Andrea as if they were old friends.

"Well Andrea, you look delightful! I would be honoured if you would care to have the next dance with me." Andrea had smiled at Peter and then turned back to the tall muscular teenager.

"Thank you very much Patrick, I must say you look very nice in your Tuxedo. Peter and I are going to dance later, but for now we are quite happy to be on our own listening to the music... Thank you all the same."

Peter could hardly have believed his ears as Andrea had refused the invitation. His heart suddenly began to race as she placed her hand over his and smiled at him, completely ignoring the crestfallen look of the football captain.

Several times during the evening she had summarily refused invitations to dance, each time looking at Peter and holding his hand. Although she had observed Peter on many occasions, assessing his physique as much as she could with a visual appraisal. She had not had the opportunity to touch him. She subtly used the dance floor as a further opportunity to examine Peter's body, carefully building up a mental picture of his physical appearance. Sometimes touching his waist, other times his arms or shoulders as they danced.

Artfully she had built up a picture of his body, which she found to be exactly to her liking. She also relished the fact that mentally he was extremely malleable, demonstrating no tendencies towards bravado or false confidence. Several times during the evening, she looked at him, holding his gaze firmly as she spoke. "You look very smart Peter. It is so nice to be taken out by such a smart young man." Her words always had the desired effect and she would watch him blush profusely, at the same time looking at her with such love and supplication, that she felt a thrill run through her body.

Andrea easily managed to keep Peter unaware of the time until it was too late for him to do anything about it. Abruptly, during a slow dance, she looked at her watch and then at Peter.

"Oh Peter... what on earth have we done... it is almost midnight and it is a good forty minutes drive to my house. Oh dear... we must leave straight away". Peter had looked crestfallen as they hurried back to the car and began their journey back to Andrea's house. He began to feel very uncomfortable as Andrea spoke to him as they drove. "Oh dear I was having such a lovely evening Peter... and I thought, well I suppose I hoped, that you were keeping abreast of the time."

"I am, so sorry... erm Andrea... erm... perhaps your mother won't be too cross. We should only be about forty-five minutes late. Er perhaps I could explain it to her... I mean that it was not your fault, but mine." Andrea smiled to herself as Peter spoke the last words. 'Yes," she thought, "that is exactly what I would like you to do.'

"Oh would you Peter, I would be so grateful. I am afraid that my mother... and my aunt will be very, very annoyed. But if you tell them that I did ask you to get me home by midnight, then perhaps they won't be so cross."

Andrea placed her hand upon his knee and saw his face immediately flush to a bright crimson. "For that gallant gesture Peter, I am going to kiss you before we go into the house."

Peter's emotions were in turmoil at the promise of a kiss. He could never have contemplated what was to happen as he stopped the car outside the house.

"Put you hands down by your sides Peter and lean back against your seat... come along hurry, I don't want to appear even later than we are." He felt rather mystified at the instruction but her authoritarian manner made him obey. He placed both hands down on the sides of his seat and looked at her, his face flushing with redness as he looked her in the eye. Andrea smiled to herself as she watched his embarrassment and then his surprise as she leaned across and undid the middle button of his shirt. She could feel his heart beating wildly as she slipped her hand inside his shirt and laid her flattened palm across his chest. Slowly and sensuously she held his nipple between her fingers as she delicately placed her lips against his. She forced his mouth open with her tongue and kissed him deeply; the kiss completely robbing him of his breath and his sanity as she held him for over a minute. His body shuddered with a deep and reluctant emotion as she let go of him and slipped her hand out from the inside of his shirt. She thrilled as she realised that he had obeyed her implicitly, even though the moment had had him completely under her spell. He had kept his hands on the car seat, in exactly the way she had instructed him.

"There... Peter... that was for being such a brave boy."

Peter was almost near to fainting as she took his hand in hers and walked him up to the house. Before he could recover his equilibrium, she pushed open the door and quickly led him inside.

Peter flushed to a deep shade of crimson as soon as he saw that both Andrea's mother and her young Aunt were standing waiting in the centre of the large open hallway.

They were both dressed impeccably. Andrea's mother was wearing a plain dark navy-coloured skirt and crisp white blouse, while her young aunt wore a severely cut black business suit. Both women had their hair tied back in a sophisticated style, accenting the exquisite bone structure of their faces. It was quite easy to see where Andrea had obtained her beauty. Cynthia Mountford looked younger than her thirty-four years and had often been mistaken for Andrea's sister rather than her mother. Her make-up had been immaculately applied adding to her innate beauty.

Sheila was similarly made-up. Her glasses added to the severity of her business suit, giving her a studious and rather serious appearance.

Andrea addressed her mother. "This is Peter Trent who has been my date for the evening. I must apologise mother for being late... the time just seemed to fly by."

Andrea knew that the beauty of the two women, allied to their severe expressions would have the young boy completely at odds with himself. She looked at him, feeling a sudden thrill as his blushing face immediately confirmed her opinion.

Cynthia spoke first, her beautiful face and well-groomed hair adding a cool authority to her appearance. "What is the meaning of coming home so late? It is now ten minutes to one o' clock in the morning, both your aunt and I have been worried that you may have been involved in an accident. Well Andrea... what do you have to say?"

Andrea did not have to look at Peter before he answered. "I am sorry, Mrs. Mountford. It was entirely my fault. I promised Andrea faithfully that I would bring her home by twelve. She had told me that she must not be late and I let her down. I am so sorry."

Andrea was delighted with Peter's reply. Not only with the fact that everything that she had planned seemed to be working out, but also with the forthright contrition that Peter displayed, without stammer or excuse.

"Well Peter, if it really is your fault... and I presume from what you have told me, that it is. Then I forbid you to see Andrea again. Your lateness has shown me that you do not pay heed to her... or to the worry that you have caused her aunt and to me. I will bid you goodnight young man."

Peter blushed again, his face colouring up to a deep crimson. "Oh please Mrs. Mountford, I really have no excuse but I am really sorry for the worry I have caused. I don't know whether Andrea would want to see me again, but I really do care about her... I just... erm, I really just forgot about the time. It was Andrea that suddenly realised how late it was. Please, please accept my apology..."

"I am sorry Peter, but saying sorry and admitting your fault is fine for you... because you know that there is no penalty. Therefore the only way I can punish you is to forbid you ever to see my daughter again. If you were my son, then I would give you a good smack-bottom which would make you remember... and therefore modify your future behaviour."

Peter's face was blotched with purple patches such was his embarrassment and confusion. He looked at Andrea and then back towards her mother. "I am sorry er. Mrs. Mountford, I truly am... erm I don't know what else to say."

"I can see that you are Peter, but you only have yourself to blame. I do intend to punish you for the distress that you have caused me - and my sister. I can of course smack your bottom, but otherwise I stand firm in what I have said... that you must not see my daughter again."

She turned towards Andrea who had managed to hide both her amusement and her admiration for her mother's performance.

"Did you wish to see this young man again, by that I mean, go out with him again?"

Andrea managed to look suitably chastened. "Well yes mother, I really like him... although you know that I would never ever disobey you or go against your wishes.

Mrs. Mountford looked sternly at Peter who was blushing furiously and looking down at his feet. "I can see that you do not care to be punished, so you had better set off home. I expect you to respect my wishes... not to have any contact with my daughter again."

Andrea, you may say goodnight to Peter... and Peter... I want you to drive very carefully on the way home.

Peter looked forlorn and yet his heart was beating wildly after he had heard that Andrea did want to see him again. Mrs. Mountford could discern that his eyes were glistening as he looked up at her. His voice trembled with acute embarrassment as he tried bravely to look at her. "I am so sorry Mrs. Mountford... erm... erm... I really would like to see Andrea again."

Andrea felt a thrill run through her body as her mother spoke again. "In that case Peter, I will punish you if you are sure... I will not cause you embarrassment by punishing you in front of Andrea. Please go through that door to the right of you, which is my office. Take off your evening suit and strip right down to your underpants. Everything else off ... including your socks. Andrea... you may go and get ready for bed, you may come down and say goodnight to Peter before he leaves. Off you go, both of you!"

Peter was absolutely dumbstruck. He felt his face flush and his cheeks begin to burn with shame. He had not intended to accept a punishment, in fact he was quite sure that he had not elected to be punished... rather he had thought that Mrs. Mountford might relent and let him see her daughter again. He was about to protest when Andrea turned towards him.

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byjane marwood© 21 comments/ 184416 views/ 83 favorites

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