The Trojan Lasagna

I worshipped this woman so much it felt like blasphemy to say the words, but her fingers dancing on my member really gave me no choice. "I want my cock in your mouth."

"Much better," she purred, still stroking me, "do you like what I'm doing?"

"Gawd, yes." I was back to two-syllable responses now, still struggling to hold in my release.

"You have a very nice cock, Josh. Nice and thick." Suddenly, she took me in her mouth and slurped. "And tasty. Is this the first time anyone's done this for you?"

Was she kidding?!?!? "Yes."

"If it's your first time, you're not going to last too long. Do you want to cum in my mouth, Josh?"

"Yes..." No reason not to be polite, so I added, "please!"

I felt Rosalie's fingertips lightly caressing my scrotum - no, scratch that, this bad girl was fondling my balls -- and it was like a trigger had been pulled. My whole body stiffened, I shot my load, and hell yes, it was pretty amazing. I must have pumped out three or four jets of baby batter into her warm and wonderful mouth; she swallowed it all, averting an extra cleaning charge when I returned the tux. When she pulled away, as she tucked my softening rod back into my pants, she affectionately kissed the tip.

"Such a nice cock," she whispered, "promise me you won't share it with any of the girls in there."

"Oh, I promise, Rosalie, I promise!" Now that my penis, er, cock was limp, blood flow had returned to my brain, so I could speak in full sentences again.

Taking a small compact out of her purse, my date looked in the small mirror and applied more red lipstick. "How do I look?"

Was this a trick question? My answer was the obvious one. "You look like the most beautiful woman in the state of Indiana."

Rosalie's eyes got a little wet from emotion, but she still managed to hold back her tears. "That's nice to hear. I'd kiss you but I just put on more lipstick, I don't want to smear it. Do you mind if we wait for a bit before we kiss again?"

Truth be told, I wanted nothing more than to kiss Rosalie and pour my heart out to her about how I loved her and how wonderful she was, but the promise of kisses to come would have to hold me for now. "No, I don't mind," I said, "your kisses are worth waiting for." While I did lie about minding the wait, that last part was very, very true. Rosalie was now my queen; I was willing to wait, however long it took.

++++++++++

As we approached the Hotel Valencia's ballroom, it was humming with noise -- lots of voices and music, along with the background tinkling of glassware. My heart was really pounding now, although I was unsure how much of it was because this was the big moment we'd been building up to all these weeks, or if it was from the adrenaline rush from my beautiful date having just gone down on me in the parking lot. At this moment in time everything seemed surreal, regardless of the cause.

Like the scratching of a record needle on vinyl interrupting a song, all my feelings froze when I saw Jim Dillon standing at the entrance. Jim was an obnoxious West-side bully who came from a very rich family. To put it mildly I totally loathed him, but as senior class President I couldn't avoid him; he was required to be at the door of the ballroom to welcome all the seniors to the dance.

When he saw me and Rosalie, his lecherous eyes drank her up. "Hey, curve-wrecker," he sneered at me, "where'd you find this hottie? Hopefully, you'll do something stupid so she'll dump you and dance with me instead!"

Humiliated, I looked around and saw several other senior couples staring. I didn't know how to respond, and I felt my face burn with embarrassment. Before I could even think of a retort, Rosalie fired back, "That makes no sense. Why would I want your kid's meal hamburger when I can get plenty of meat from Josh? No way I'm letting this stud go!" She slid her hand on my ass for emphasis.

My spirits were immediately boosted when I heard several of the couples murmur, "Ooooooh!" My queen had just executed a perfect denigrating burn on the class President, and in full view of other West-siders to boot. I was both impressed and grateful.

Before Jim could respond, one of the chaperones -- the Dean of Discipline, Mr. Wexler, who, due to his red hair and ruddy complexion always resembled a scowling fireplug - walked up and spoke to Rosalie.

"Excuse me, miss, but while we want you to enjoy the dance, the rules forbid inappropriate physical contact." Seeing Mr. Wexler, our class President quickly occupied himself with other newly-arriving couples. Mr. Wexler was the scourge of the faculty and students to the point where even the affluent rich kids avoided him.

"Sorry!" Rosalie quickly removed her hand from my butt.

Jumping to her defense, I explained to Mr. Wexler, "Sorry, sir, she didn't know, she goes to a different school!"

He scowled, "Hmph. Doesn't your school have rules, miss?"

Rosalie answered, "They do, sir. I just love my boyfriend so much, in the romance and excitement of the moment I got carried away, I'm sorry."

Then, a miracle happened: for the first time in my 4 years of high school, Mr. Wexler actually smiled. Addressing my date in a kindly voice, he said, "Very well. Enjoy your dance, just keep the rules in mind. Mark my words, someday when you're a parent, you'll understand." Then he walked away, presumably on the prowl for other indecorous physical contact.

Once he was out of sight, I turned to Rosalie, shaking my finger and mimicking him: "Someday when you're a parent, you'll understand." We both laughed, giddy that our subterfuge was plainly working. I said to her, "See? I was right! Everyone believes you're a high-school girl!"

Rosalie didn't say anything, but the smile on her face spoke volumes. It was at this point that Principal Starr got up on stage and made a few announcements, after which the DJ got the music started. He played a mix of upbeat hip-hop tunes and slow romantic ballads. I'd never learned how to dance, but the slow dances I could fake, so we mostly danced to the slow ones. With Rosalie in my arms, I found myself wishing more than once that I could make time stand still.

After a few songs, we sat at a table and sipped some punch. When Rosalie excused herself to go to the ladies' room, to my dismay Jim Dillon came and sat next to me, a smug look on his face. "I figured out your secret, Lujack," he told me. "Your date's no high school girl."

Emulating my favorite Star Trek character Mr. Spock, I raised one eyebrow. "What makes you say that?"

"I can tell by the way she looks. She's too hot for high school. She's probably a freshman or sophomore in college!"

I put my hands in the air, as if surrendering. "OK, dude you got me. She's a freshman at Fairburn Community College. I met her when we were taking the same course last summer."

He jumped to his feet. "HA! I knew it!" He got up to leave, but before going said to me, "You may have a hot girlfriend, but you're still a fucking loser, Lujack." What an asshole.

About 10 minutes later Clarice Johnson, the stuck-uppest of all the stuck-up cheerleaders, came up to me. Grabbing my arm, she blurted out, "Lujack, your girlfriend is SO nice! I don't know how a dork like you got her to agree to be your date for prom, but I hope you're not stupid enough to break up with her when you go to college!" Then she turned and went off to join her friends.

Rosalie came back a few minutes later, smiling. I had to ask, "What exactly have you been up to?"

She giggled. "While I was in there, there was a girl, Clarice, who was crying because her date was acting like a jerk and pressuring her for sex. I dried her tears and reminded her that she wasn't his property, she was an attractive woman who had the power to make her own decisions. I also reminded her that if he didn't respect her, there were plenty of other boys who'd be happy to step up and take his place. I don't think she'd ever been told that before."

"Well you certainly made a good impression. When she came out, she told me I'd be stupid to ever break up with you when I go to college." Looking around to make sure no chaperones were watching, I put my arms around her, leaned down and kissed her softly. "I happen to agree, do you?"

Judging by her reaction, I could tell Rosalie was emotionally torn. She didn't say anything, but took me onto the dance floor and held me close as we slow-danced. The song was Stuck On You by Lionel Richie, which at that moment pretty much described my feelings about her. As we moved across the dance floor in each other's arms, I told her, "You promised me you were going to make this the best night of my life. I'm telling you right now, you have."

She gave a little laugh, then whispered, "I'm glad you've enjoyed yourself so far, Mr. Lujack, but the best is yet to come." I felt her hands pressing my butt, pressing my crotch into hers. This did not go unnoticed by the little friend between my legs, and he started to stiffen.

Rosalie noticed my excitement, and said, "After this dance, let's you and I go somewhere quiet. I have the perfect place in mind."

++++++++++

Turns out the perfect place she had in mind was a room on the 23rd floor. In the elevator on the way to our hotel room, Rosalie told me how she'd discovered her husband was cheating via some Hotel Valencia receipts that he'd accidentally dropped while doing an expense report.

A phone call to the hotel's business office revealed he actually had an open account with them, and by pretending to be his administrative assistant she got them to fax her over the receipts from the previous 12 months. A little date verification revealed some of his out-of-town business trips were, in fact, him meeting his homewrecker girlfriend here instead.

Knowing Robert was such a bad record-keeper that he'd see a Hotel Valencia charge and not think twice about it, Rosalie had called the hotel and used his account to book us a hotel room.

Standing in the elevator, I was in a state of jubilant near-shock. The evening had practically turned Kafkaesque; what had started out as a simple prom date with my dream girl was transforming into a clandestine tryst with my lustful queen. Strains of the Rush song Time Stand Still echoed in my brain, because I never wanted this night to end.

++++++++++

Once in the room, Rosalie took charge. Handing me a couple of hangers from the closet, she pointed at the bathroom. "Go in there, get undressed and hand up your tux. Let me know when you're ready."

I promptly obeyed. "I'm all set," I called out.

"It will be a minute, I'm hanging up my dress," she called back. Just the thought of her being naked made me hard again. Then I heard her call out softly, "OK, come on out."

I came out of the bathroom; the only light was moonlight coming in where the curtains were parted. Rosalie was sitting up against the headboard with the covers pulled over her body, with only her head and bare arms visible. She eyed me up and down, then purred, "Well, don't you look tasty," then pulled back the covers slightly and patted the mattress invitingly.

Obediently, I slid in next to her. Fueled by lust, my senses were heightened. I felt the warmth of her body as I slid next to her, and her oh-so-feminine natural scent was better than any perfume I'd ever smelled. I asked, "Don't I get to see you naked, too?"

She was silent and unmoving for a minute, then confessed. "Josh, it was fun pretending to be a high school girl tonight, but I can't pretend I have the body of a high school girl. My bra hid how my boobs droop, and control-top pantyhose held in my mommy-tummy. Plus, I have stretchmarks and tiger stripes on my abdomen. There's no way I can hide that fact that I've had two children. I'm afraid you might not like what I really look like naked."

I stroked her hair, then leaned over and gently kissed her. "In my mind, you're already perfect. Nothing is going to change that,' I whispered, "nothing." This seemed to allay her fears, and she slid back the covers and moved around so she was now straddling my legs, facing me. Her body was glorious; putting my hands on her shoulders, I leaned forward and began kissing her neck. "You're already perfect," I repeated, moving my hands down to her breasts. They were the breasts of a fertility goddess, big and soft with huge aureoles and pointed nipples.

Despite being a virgin, I didn't need an instruction manual to tell me what to do next. I took her nipples in my mouth, alternately sucking and nibbling each in turn. Rosalie sighed happily and threw her head back in pleasure, and I felt her fingers wrapping around my erection, gently stroking it. Now it was my turn to moan in pleasure, and I let out a long low groan.

Then I felt my lover lift up slightly and guide my hardness into the warm wet place between her legs, then plunging downward to impale herself. I'd never felt anything so wonderful and cried out, "Oh, Rosalie!" Not exactly Shakespeare, but it was all my overwhelmed brain was capable of.

Just when I thought I'd never feel this good again, she began to rise and fall on me. If she hadn't gone down on me in the parking lot, I would have shot my load right then, but thanks to our pre-prom workout I was able to hold off a little longer. I leaned my head forward and attempted to kiss her, but was only semi-successful due to her moving on me. I kept repeating, "You're perfect, I love you," until she stiffened and pushed herself down on me hard, holding there as she shuddered.

Then she rose up and got off, laying on her back now. "Now it's your turn," she whispered, and guided me into the missionary position. Seeing her laying with her legs spread, I plunged in, thrusting inside of her until I felt my climax building. She gently ran her fingernails up and down my back, pushing her hips up to meet my thrusts and urging me on. Finally my release came, and I shot multiple jets of my seed into her.

I collapsed, and slid off of her and onto my side. She turned so we were facing each other. Reaching over, I began to place soft kisses on her forehead, eyelids, nose, and finally her lips. "That was better than anything I ever imagined," I told her, "I never want this feeling to end. Marry me." I hadn't planned to say that last bit, it just slipped out. But now that I said it, I wasn't sorry in the least because it was true.

Rosalie pulled me in close to her and kissed me deeply, to the point that my softening cock began to return to hardness. After the kiss, she whispered, "You're such a wonderful man, and I'd be lucky to have you, but you know I can't marry you until my divorce is final."

Hope rose in me, and I asked, "Are you saying you'll marry me when your divorce is final?"

She shook her head, "I'm saying nothing is for sure right now, so I can't give you an answer. Can you understand that?" I felt my hopes plummet. I was new to these adult feelings, and didn't know what they all meant. I gave the most honest answer I could.

"It's complicated, but I guess so. But you know I love you, right?" I felt her hand gently caressing my face.

"You've made your feelings quite clear, and I can't describe how good that makes me feel. I'm just sorry I can't give you the answer that you want right now." Then I felt the fingers of her other hand cup my scrotum, then begin to caress my now-soft cock. Thanks to my 18-year-old refractory period, my hardness returned immediately. She whispered, "I think it would be nice, though, if you could..."

Needless to say, I could, and we did. One more time before going to sleep, once when she woke me in the middle of the night, and one more time when we woke up. Afterwards we called for breakfast room service, and as we shared our coffee and cinnamon rolls I realized we hadn't used a condom. Since I hadn't expected to end up in a hotel room, I hadn't brought any.

"Rosalie," I said gently, "I'm afraid I've not been very responsible. In all the excitement, I kind of forgot about condoms."

She pulled her face to mine and kissed me deeply. "Don't worry, I just got off my period," she replied. "I'm not near ovulating yet, we should be OK." We'd put the hotel-provided bathrobes on before our room service arrived, and as she'd leaned forward her left breast popped out. Not bothering to cover it up, she teased, "Oh, my, look at that, I took your virginity, now here I am being a bad girl again. Do you want me to be a bad girl for you again, Josh?"

Turns out, yes, I did. Twice. One time in bed, then again in the shower. Having 18-year-old stamina has its advantages.

++++++++++

The weeks following the prom went by quickly. I graduated then started working a part-time summer job to save up spending money for college, putting together bouquets and making deliveries for Goldman's Florists.

After the amazing prom night I wanted to start spending a lot more time with Rosalie, but she said no. Her big fear was that Etta and Jayden might say something to their father about me that would raise his suspicions and mess up the divorce mediation.

As far as her kids were concerned, she wanted them to keep thinking of me only as their friendly neighbor. I understood, but I hated every minute of it. My parents didn't really say anything, but I could tell they were relieved that, despite my single-minded adoration of Rosalie, my relationship with her appeared to have come to a screeching halt the day after prom.

When I wasn't working, I spent a lot of time in my parents yard, mowing the grass, weeding the garden, and various other yardwork. I'd often peer over the low fence separating the properties just to catch a glimpse of my Rosalie. It was like a knife in my heart when I'd see Robert come pick up Etta and Jayden on his court-assigned visitation days, they'd scream "DADDY!" with such joy at the sight of him.

To be honest, I was crazy with jealousy; it should have been me and not Robert that the kids were screaming with joy at. Apparently, although he was a shitty husband he was trying to be a good father. Even so, he'd betrayed my Rosalie, so I loathed that prick.

The moment that really killed me though, was last time he came to drop the kids back off. To my surprise, as he left, he gave Rosalie a hug. Even worse, she hugged him back! I couldn't understand why she'd even let that unfaithful scumbag touch her. It just wasn't fair that this cheater got to put his filthy hands on her while she'd forbidden me, the guy who adored her, from being with her. It was tearing me apart.

As smart as I was academically, I was an absolute idiot when it came to relationships. The signs were there, but my infatuation with Rosalie had made me blind. Like the ancient city of Pompeii, I was completely unprepared when the eruption came.

I'd just pulled in to the driveway and turned off the motor of the Galaxie after finishing an afternoon of deliveries for Goldman's. As I got out of the car, Rosalie was standing in her driveway, waving me over. My heart soared. Finally! After several weeks of no contact, I was anxious to talk to her again, so I walked quickly over. Not able to resist, I extended my arms to give her a hug but was rebuffed by a firm hand to my chest.

Seeing the hurt look on my face, Rosalie was immediately apologetic. "I'm sorry, Josh, but I can't hug you."

Taking a light-hearted approach, I said, "Why? Do the kids have chickenpox or something?"

She didn't smile. "The kids are fine. It's just that in the last few weeks, things have changed."

"Not on my end, I'm still..." before I could say anymore, she put two finger to my mouth.

"Not for you, Josh. Things have changed for me. There's no easy way to say this, so I'll just say it. Robert broke up with Ariel. He says he's been a fool, and he doesn't want a divorce. He's begging me to reconcile."

I definitely did not see that one coming, and the look on my face must have said it all. My whole body went numb; I felt my life crumbling down around me in slow motion.