Homecoming Queen

[Author's note -- All characters are fictional and depicted as over 18.]

Dear Bernadette,

I hope you are well. I'm writing to you because you were so kind to Robbie when you were his babysitter and, well, I have a favour to ask of you.

It's always difficult to ask for help, isn't it? And when I haven't kept in touch with you for so long, and with the unpleasant things that have been said about you back here in recent months...

As I said, it's hard to ask for help but I don't know what else to do.

Robbie's senior prom is next week and he's not going. Not only not going but also spending seemingly all his time in his room, sulking about it. He won't go alone and the girl he asked -- the only girl he's ever expressed any interest in and who we both thought felt the same -- had already agreed to go with one of the football team.

Robbie refuses to consider asking anyone else and, in his words, won't be the blind boy alone in the corner.

Honestly, Bernadette, I'm at my wit's end. You know how stubborn Robbie can be and, after we fought so hard to get him into a regular school it's awful that his time in high school is going to end on such a personal low note.

Would it be too much to ask for you to call him and talk things through? He always listened to you and, to judge by his angry responses to the gossip about your personal life, still hasn't quite gotten over the crush he had on you. I'm sure he'd listen, if only you could spare the time to talk with him.

I'm sorry. I know you're very busy but I can't think of anyone else he would listen to and time is running out.

Best regards,

Jayne x x

Ms. Jayne Pugh.

* * * * *

"What're you two up to?" Eric found B and Helen naked in the closet. At least, the spare room they'd taken over as a closet. He leant on the jamb in his running gear, watching his courtesans folding and packing clothes. They had a lot of clothes, considering they so rarely bothered wearing any around him.

"Packing." Helen offered an accurate but essentially pointless explanation.

"Can I borrow the jet?" B asked without turning.

"Sure. Do I get to know where you two are going?"

"Only me." B said, picking a piece of paper off the dresser and bringing it to him.

"She's expanding your social development program." Helen said.

Eric perused the letter. It was addressed to B, care of the gallery.

"I'm gonna be a prom date again." B clarified. "It's about time I went home anyway. Just to see if I can't mend a few fences with my folks. This is a great opportunity for that and I really want to help Robert if I can."

" If you can't, I'll send Helen to help." Eric knew that wouldn't be necessary: B always got her own way and the eighteen-year-old boy wasn't born that would pass up the chance to be her date.

B's look said that she thought that'd be unnecessary too. "Thanks." She hugged him, crumpling the letter between his shirt and her bare bosom.

"You're welcome." In theory, men find it difficult to refuse naked women. In practice, Eric hadn't tried. It wouldn't occur to him to refuse B, or Helen, anything. He loved them and expressed it most often by finding ways to indulge their wayward ways. Jealousy? There was no room for that in their relationship. B would go and do what -- who -- she wanted and Eric would look forward to hearing all about it.

* * * * *

"Robbie? You have a visitor." Jayne knocked on her son's door but, as was usual lately, he ignored her. She'd been shocked by B's unannounced arrival. She'd been even more shocked when B, over coffee, had explained why she was there.

When Jayne wrote that letter, she'd hoped that Bernadette -- B, she mentally corrected herself -- she'd hoped that B would call Robbie; talk to him; perhaps, persuade him to ask another girl to the prom or even to go stag. She'd never expected that B would turn up in person and she was more than a little unsettled by it. After all, she thought, B is the town scandal since news broke of what she does for a living and when people get wind of why she's back... well, Robbie will be the subject of more than a little gossip too.

B's plan was simple. She was going to be Robbie's prom date.

"Robbie? Please open the door." Yes, thought Jayne, as she knocked fruitlessly on Robbie's door, there would be a lot more gossip if B got her way.

* * * * *

Jayne wasn't stupid: She'd immediately suspected an ulterior motive and called B on it.

"Why are you doing this, B? It's not just about Robbie's prom. Are you using him as just another way to shock the people you grew up with?" Jayne was not in the pro-B camp when it came to the gossip. She felt so sorry for B's parents and just didn't understand why anyone would deliberately court such notoriety. B had been such a sensible, bright girl...

"I

do

have the right to face my accusers. But no, I'm not just looking for an excuse to shake up this complacent town. Robbie's been through a lot and he deserves his senior prom. Having me on his arm will get him noticed and, as we both know, people around here don't forget quickly. Notoriety is like cologne. I stink of it, but a little bit rubbing off on Robbie will make him a lot more attractive after I've gone."

"Everyone will think..." Jayne didn't even want to think it, let alone say it out loud.

"That I slept with him? Jayne? Understand this: I will do everything I can to get Robbie to fuck me because that's all I have to offer him. I'm guessing he hasn't gotten himself laid yet?"

"What? No! I... I'd know." Jayne was stunned by B's bluntness.

"Of course you would. And Poor Robbie can't even get his kicks from porn. He must be so frustrated. What would you have done if Robbie had his sight and you found dirty magazines in his room?"

"I'd... I guess I'd ignore it. It's a phase boys go through, isn't it?" Jayne was thinking of the magazines her boyfriend didn't think she knew about. She was also thinking what Harry would say when he heard all this.

"Ok, so think of me as a Braille girlie magazine. Just ignore what's going to happen and pretend it's a normal part of Robbie's growing up."

"It's not the same. You know it's not the same." Jayne couldn't believe they were even discussing it.

"No, it's not the same. I won't teach Robbie to objectify women." B liked this line. It was her stock defence against feminist outrage at her modelling.

"I don't know... No...No, I can't let you-"

"Robbie's 18. He doesn't need your permission and I only need his." B didn't like to get confrontational - She was here to help -- but sometimes you just had to be cruel to be kind. "And the whole point of Senior Prom is that it's a rite of passage, like losing your cherry. Let him be a man, Jayne." B reached out and patted Jayne's hand.

Jayne, like many 'average' women -- she'd been called Plain Jayne all the way through high school -- didn't trust beauty. A part of her was whispering that B always got her own way because she was beautiful and that was so unfair. But most of her thoughts were coagulating into acceptance that Robbie was, as B pointed out, grown up.

And that's the train of thought that got her to the top of the stairs and knocking on Robbie's door. She hoped that Robbie would just send B away -- he'd been brought up properly after all -- but somehow she doubted he would.

There was no answer. She knocked again while B waited patiently behind her.

A hand on Jayne's arm stopped a third knock. "Let me try." B's tone was reassuring as she steered Jayne out of the way.

"Robbie? It's Bernadette." B called through the closed door before reaching for the handle and finding it not locked anyway. With a shrug she slipped through, closing the door behind her and turning the key. Now it was locked.

"Go away." A sullen voice drew her attention to a heap of bedding that must be concealing her quarry.

"I can't do that, Robbie. I have my reputation to consider." B moved over to the bed and sat on the edge, gently easing the sheet away from Robbie's face. He pulled it back off her and hid his face again.

"Go away." He repeated.

"No." B said in a syrupy sweet tone. Then she stood up and pulled her t-shirt over her head, tossing it onto a chair where Robbie's clothes were neatly folded. Blind people have to be tidy -- obsessively so -- or their environment becomes hazardous. B's miniskirt joined her top, leaving her naked -- well, almost. She kicked off her shoes, sat back down on the bed and started to touch herself.

Whether it was the scent of her arousal or the soft sighs of pleasure that got Robbie's attention first we may never know, but get his attention she did.

"What are you doing?" the sullen voice crept out of the bed.

"Masturbating." B carried on.

"What? Why?" Robbie's head broke cover and he sat up quickly.

B took advantage of the extra space on the bed and spun on her bottom to straddle his calves, spreading her legs wide and rubbing her moist pussy as noisily as she could, moaning as the increment in tempo lifted her that bit closer to orgasm. "Because its fun and there's nobody here to do it for me."

"No. Why are you here at all?" He still sounded sullen. If he could have seen her, he wouldn't have been asking such dumb questions but he could only hear what she was doing to herself and it's nowhere near as attention monopolizing that way.

"Ok." B stopped strumming her labia. "I'm here to be your prom date and-"

"No way. No fucking way!" Robbie almost exploded.

"And to fuck you senseless." B's sweet and reasonable tones belied the steely determination and bluntness of her intent.

"No fucking way!" Robbie tried to crawl backwards, to distance himself from his ex-babysitter, but his shins were trapped under her.

"I used to be your fantasy. I remember how big a crush you had on me five years ago."

"I was a kid."

"You were sweet and I was flattered. Now I'm returning the compliment. You're not a kid anymore and I want to be the one who makes a man of you." She reached out to touch the blankets where his hips should be. "Bingo! Houston, we have an erection." A semi at any rate.

"Get off me!" Robbie tried to slap her hand away. He wasn't softening towards her advances but her hand stayed where it was and he wasn't softening there either -- quite the opposite.

"Ok." B surprised him by hopping off the bed. She surprised him more when she flipped the bedding off him to get a look at the tent in his shorts. "Ooh!" she cooed. "Is that for me?"

"No." Robbie's hands tried to hide the bulge and grope for the bedding at the same time, failing on both counts and eliciting a giggle from B.

"Suzanna?" Suzanna was the girl who'd started all this by accepting someone else's invitation to the senior prom.

"No!" Robbie protested, wrestling with B for the sheet to cover his embarrassment.

"Well it looks very big, whoever it's for." It didn't -- only average -- but B knew her trade well, and a trade it was, even if this was pro bono. Pro bono! She giggled at her own pun.

"Get out!" Robbie was almost in tears of frustration and anger.

"I already told you, no." B had a better idea. She bounced back onto the bed, straddling his hips and resting her weight firmly on his bulging shorts, wiggling as she settled. "Now that's not nice." She caught his wrists as he flailed at her, trying to push her off. He was strong but she had the advantage of sight and guided his wrists so his palms landed squarely on her breasts as he tried to shove her. "That's more like it!" She taunted.

Robbie recoiled from her, breaking her grip on his arms. There were tears now.

"I bet that's the first tit you've had your hands on? Yes?" She ignored his tears, leaning forward, rubbing her mons over his crotch, harder by the minute, and stroking his chest.

There was no answer.

"Ok, Mr strong-silent-type. I'll just play with them myself." And she did: Twisting her hard nipples and moaning with pleasure as her hips gyrated against him. The heat of her pussy must have been a new and intense feeling for Robbie but he was as still as a corpse, trying his best to ignore her -- no easy thing. She let go of one breast and reached down to her crotch, quickly slipping her fingers past the waistband of Robbie's shorts to grab his cock. It throbbed in her hand.

With one practiced movement, she raised her bottom, hauled his cock out into the open and impaled herself on it. Job done!

"Oops! There goes your virginity!" She laughed. "Whatever else happens, Robbie dear, I'll always be your first lover." She leant right forward to caress his face, brushing away a stray tear and kissing him on the cheek. She was aiming for his mouth but he turned away from her.

"Why are you doing this?" He sobbed.

"I told you already. Because you had a crush on me... And because some silly girl hadn't the good sense to realize how fortunate she was... And because I'm an immoral harlot that half this town wants to tar and feather but, as I heard it, you're one of those who defended me." This time, she caught his mouth as he turned to speak. Her hands on his cheeks controlled the kiss until he gave in and kissed her back.

"I..."

"Shh..." She kissed him again to kill the conversation and resumed the rocking of her hips, squeezing his hard cock inside her. "Fuck now, talk later."

And that did the trick. Robbie's hips finally started to push up towards her. B lifted a little of her weight off his hips to give him manoeuvring room and matched her pace to his. Lifting his hands to her breasts, she sighed as, this time, he massaged the soft flesh inexpertly but with enthusiasm.

"I'm Sorry." Robbie convulsed briefly then sagged into motionlessness again. He'd come in one brief spurt -- all too brief but B was used to that from virgins. It would still be another notch on her bedpost.

"Silly boy." B lay on top of Robbie and nuzzled at his neck. "Don't apologise for coming. That

was

the purpose of the exercise." She could feel him starting to soften and wiggled her hips to dislodge him. "Besides, it was your first time. Am I right?"

"Yes." He looked sheepish, as all guys do admitting that. B loved virgins for that shyness. I was such fun watching them grow a self-confidence gland overnight. She moved off him and repositioned herself with her face close to his wilted cock, examining its moist slickness and forlorn limpness. Well, she knew a cure for that.

"And is this going to be your first blow job?" She asked matter-of-factly, taking his cock between her lips and starting to massage his glans with her tongue.

"Wha... Yes." Robbie, taken by surprise, relaxed and let B revive his penis. It didn't take long to get him hard again, then B really went to work, stroking his length while she nibbled along the underside of his cock all the way to his balls, which she sucked on gently before kissing her way back to his tip and deep-throating him briefly.

B was a most accomplished fellatrix: the product of practice and enthusiasm. Robbie had no basis for comparison but what was happening to his cock was surpassing anything he'd imagined. He moaned as B's tongue crossed the most sensitive part of his glans -- it was a divine torture, but he tried so hard to hold onto his load just a few seconds longer.

He tried... and failed, coming in B's mouth with little warning. B swallowed and continued licking his cock until it stopped twitching and was pretty much clean. She only released him when despite her caresses he started to soften.

"Still want me to get out?" She crawled back up the bed to kiss his cheek and snuggle close, her breasts pressed against his arm while he caught his breath.

"Yes." Said Robbie with undisguised irony, reaching tentatively toward her face.

B intercepted his hand and drew it to her lips, kissing his palm. "Well then, before I go, would you like to take the tour?"

B lay still and quiet while Robbie's fingertips; sensitive enough to read Braille, mapped her face and body. It wasn't the first time he'd touched her face to 'see' it like this, but being touched everywhere with such delicate deliberation was definitely new. It was obviously new to Robbie too. His fingers trembled as his adrenalin levels soared, but he took his time and was meticulous in his attention to every detail. B Only moved when absolutely necessary, spreading her legs, lifting her arms and, once, rolling over. It was as sensual as one of Eric's massages and her already sticky pussy was dripping by the time Robbie had finished.

"You're beautiful." Was all he said when he'd finished.

"Yes." B knew she was. It wasn't arrogance to admit what everyone else told her so often. "I get told that a lot, but I like what I see in the mirror too."

"I wish I could see you." Robbie rarely expressed regret at his blindness. His wistfulness caught at B's attention and she drew him close, cradling his face against her breasts.

"I know, Robbie. I know." She held him for a long time, stroking his hair and wondering how to lift his spirits. Then an idea blossomed. "Robbie?"

"Yes?" He pushed away from her bosom, sitting up straight again. B noticed that he was erect again.

"The way you see..."

"Stereognostically."

"Is that what it's called? Ok. I can't do that. I can close my eyes and touch things but I can't build a mental image of them the way you do."

"Because your brain is hardwired for visual images."

"Whatever. My point is... I know what I look like to most people. I can see myself just by looking in a mirror. But I don't know what I look like to you. Can you tell me? Describe me to me?"

"I can try."

"Please." Rolled into lotus position facing him.

"Ok." He reached towards her again.

She was pretty sure he remembered what she 'felt' like -- it had only been a few minutes -- but if Robbie wanted another excuse to touch her, well, that was what she was here for. She resisted the urge to guide his hand to her face, sitting perfectly still and waiting for him to find her. His touch, when it came, was as feather-light as the first time, but his fingers trembled a fraction less.

"Your face is very symmetrical; small chin; small nose too -- straight, and small."

B stifled a giggle as his fingertips touched her nostrils.

"You have full lips -- are you pouting?"

"No. They're naturally that full."

"Full lips and..." He paused as B's mouth opened, running the tip of his index finger over her bottom teeth. "Even teeth."

"All the better to bite you with." B jibed.

"Great complexion. Not even a hint of any zit scars or spots. So soft." This last observation was almost a whisper, as if he were speaking to himself.

"Your eyebrows don't meet in the middle. That's a good thing, right?"

"Right." B was surprised he knew that.

"Two eyes. That's a good thing two. Your ears don't stick out." His finger and thumb traced the shape of her ear down to the lobe. "Pierced." He wiggled the sleeper rings she wore. "Hair, shoulder length, straight, well conditioned. Hmm." He leant close to sniff her. "Smells of coconut."

B took the opportunity to kiss him while he leant close.

"Mmm. Breath, sweet; just a hint of peppermint." His hands stroked her neck. "Slender, long neck. "His touch on the nape of her neck sent an involuntary shiver of pleasure down her spine. He felt it. "Oh. An erogenous zone."

"Yes." B confirmed, somewhat redundantly.

"Skin still smooth, positively silken." His hands had reached her shoulders and were moving slowly together along her clavicles, intent on meeting just above her breasts. "So soft." Robbie cupped her breasts, pausing to enjoy the moment. B gave him all the time he wanted. Her nipples grew even more prominent as they responded in their own special way to his touch. "So soft." He repeated as he gently caressed her bosom. "Except here... and here." He rolled her hard nipples between finger and thumb then traced the goosebumps on her areolae in little circles around those prominent buds. "What size are these?" He asked, cupping the underside of her breasts again.