Prom Night

Drake felt mortified. He blushed furiously, angry at Sharon for wearing such a tight dress to the prom. Then, he laughed. What the hell did he care what the losers at his high school thought of him or his date? He and Sharon were graduating; they could leave this sorry town. They'd planned to go to New York or L. A. Sharon wanted to be a model or an actress, and he'd agreed to be her agent. They had their whole lives head of them, and they'd show these small-minded, small town bigots! Besides, Sharon, even with an erect cock plainly outlined by her tight-fitting prom dress, was the best-looking girl at his high school.

Drake was aware of the music playing faintly in the background.

"I'm sorry," Sharon said, a tear trickling down her sleek, rosy cheek.

He kissed the tear away and smiled at her. "What for?"

She dipped her head toward the offending erection. "This."

"I'm not," he assured her. "I love you - every inch of you."

She smiled. "You do?"

"Inside and out."

"Thanks."

He held out her hands to her. "Would you care to dance?"

She stepped into his arms; the music swelled.